Malia stood before the library door, a tired slump to her shoulders. She knew that the assignment wasn’t technically a punishment, but she couldn’t help but feel the sting as she stood alone in a seldom-used corridor, watching for a threat that would never come.

Lord Hesling had been unassuaged by the cloak and letter, finding the explanation of someone stealing flowers in some ways worse than if it had been an actual attempt at espionage. The fact that “some commoner” had managed to sneak into his walls and “fling his guards around like ragdolls” had left the man fuming, until his wife had managed to calm him down. Malia would have been more grateful if she hadn’t been informed that the cost of the flowers would, in fact, be coming from her pay.

Demaric had gotten the worst of the fallout, as he had managed to be incapacitated in the course of the chase. She had originally worried that he would attempt to redirect blame back to her, but she had been pleasantly surprised that he had taken full responsibility for his tumble, as well as the excessive force that may have escalated the chase. Her respect for him had grown quite a bit after that.

Unfortunately for him, he was now to serve as a second to Lethel for the training of a new batch of recruits. Considering Lethel’s training methods, she expected Demaric would be getting run as ragged as the newbies. She tried to muster some sympathy for the man, but his moping for the last couple of days really was getting quite excessive. She hoped for his sake that this batch was fast learners, and not another group of favors being repaid with a guard appointment.

The one upside to the posting was that it gave her unfettered access to the library, as long as she was sparing in her visits and wasn’t away from her post when a patrol rotation walked by her posting. She had a knack for keeping time in her head, a trick she was sure many had picked up when forced to wait for someone to relieve them, but she wasn’t willing to trust it to the point of extended time in the library. She also had to contend with the off-chance that part of the extended Hesling family would decide to spend a few hours reading. She hadn’t seen it happen in the last couple of days, but why else would you keep a library.

Despite her confidence in her internal timekeeping, she had begun to worry that she had missed the latest patrol. She eyed the door warily, contemplating slipping back in, when she heard the soft clomping of boots making their way down the corridor. A lanky figure rounded the corner, his gait a touch too unhurried and his posture a little too lax for the job he was currently supposed to be performing.

Oh. It's Mekial, no wonder the patrol is late. Mekial was the son of a chef that Lord Hesling’s cousin had become particularly fond of, and had somehow made it through training. She was fairly certain that Lethel’s current harsh training regimen had come as a result of that lapse.

Mekial gave her a brief nod, then stopped to catch his helm before it slipped from his head. I’d call him an idiot for wearing the thing, but at least it makes him look somewhat authoritative. The lad has a head like a cabbage with ears.

“Everything quiet on your end Malia?” He tried for a deep, authoritative tone, but a timbre of nervousness spoiled the attempt.

“Of course it’s quiet, Mekial, it’s a library. That’s the entire point of a library.” She felt a bit of guilt as he turned red and began stammering, but she couldn’t think of a good way to salvage the exchange.

“Umm, very good Malia, carry on then. Hopefully it all stays quiet.”

He turned and began walking back the way he came, a great deal stiffer. Damn it, I really could have handled that better. I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile, not making enemies of other guards. Even if those guards should probably be wearing an apron rather than armor.

She sighed as he rounded the corner, and promised herself that she would make some effort to bond with him at a later date. As the sounds of boots quieted, she slowly eased the door open, and slipped inside. She gently closed the door again, and made her way to the shelves. Her current goal was the histories, specifically the unofficial ones.

She wasn’t quite certain what Calamir was looking for, her current instructions had just requested that she look for “discrepancies with commonly held knowledge” and let her act on her own initiative from there. She had expected interest to be more directed to the restricted runes, and a few had been smuggled out where she was able, but he had insisted that this was much more important to the movement.

So far, she felt her results were pretty disappointing. There had been a battle that was listed as having been won to her recollection, but the book she found listed it as a stalemate, and another battle within the kingdom that she couldn’t remember ever having heard of. She attempted to dig into it more, but couldn’t find who the battle was supposed to have been against. It probably spoke to her personality that battles were the only things she had noticed so far. She had told Calamir that history wasn’t her best subject, but he had simply insisted that she would do fine, and that whatever she found would help.

The book that she had been reading on her last pass was still sticking out on the shelf slightly, an embarrassing oversight. She picked another at random, making a mental to straighten the shelves on her way out. A small reading nook was positioned slightly out of sight of the door on the opposite side of the room, and she made her way over to begin reading. There was a small journal and pen tucked into her inner pocket already, waiting for any notes she might need.

This particular book was an unexciting history of agriculture in the region. It was doubtful that it would contain anything useful, but she was determined to prove to herself that warfare wasn’t the only thing she could focus on for research. Besides, how can I doubt what will be useful if I have no idea what I’m supposed to be looking for?

It had only been a few minutes since she had sat down, struggling her way through a particularly dry section on the effects of water-attuned farmers and the implementation of irrigation, when the door to the library opened. Panic hit her before she could think, thrusting the book under the chair. Considering the material, it wasn’t particularly incriminating, her first instinct was to not be caught with a book.

After her brain reasserted control over her body, she snuck a peek around the shelf concealing the doorway. Standing just inside the door was a ruffled young man wearing fashionable clothes that appeared to have been recently soaked through with sweat. He was staring at the shelves with a slightly distant look, as if unsure of where he was. Is this one of the house guests? His clothes seem fairly expensive, but why would he be sweating so much?

The man seemed to start, quickly flipping his head to scan the shelves. She pulled back slightly so as not to be caught in his gaze, but he didn’t appear to be looking for a person. He quickly oriented, and made his way towards the runic texts in the back.

Well, this is interesting. Definitely not a guest, but a man on a mission. Did he really manage to sneak through the entire house just to get to the library? If so, it’s fairly impressive. She got up and made her way behind him, trying to catch a glance at what he was reading. It appeared to be a book on striking runes, about what she’d expect from someone who had made their way into a noble’s library.

He turned around suddenly, startling her. Thankfully, he seemed to be just as startled, and she managed to adopt a suitably stern expression before he could catch his bearing.

“I think you better explain what you’re doing in here. Now.”

The man flinched back, surprising her with how rattled he was. Maybe he isn’t the criminal mastermind I thought he was. He’s practically shaking. She took a closer look at him, realizing that he was even younger than she thought him to be. Gods, I can see where he knicked himself shaving this morning.

“I’m so sorry! I got lost on my way out, and suddenly I found myself in the library. There were all these books, and I wanted to see if it was laid out like the academy library. I realized I had never read this book, and I knew I’d never get another chance to see new runes after I failed the interview for the guards. I’m so sorry, please don’t arrest me!”

The young man’s panicked rambling shocked her at first, but she quickly found herself relaxing. So the kid was trying to join the guard to gain access to the runic library. I’d be more upset if I wasn’t doing the exact same thing. Still, who just blurts it out like that?

“Breath kid, why don’t you start over. What's your name? Why did you want to read new runes?”

He hesitated, seemingly unsure of what to say. At a quick hand wave from her, however, he began speaking again, heat quickly entering his voice.

“My name is Deilan. As for the runes, I just know if I can find the right rune combinations, I can do something amazing with them. We’re discovering so many new ways to use old runes, but there’s so many more being locked away. I know these are supposed to be dangerous, but it’s so unfair that something that could be doing so much good is in this library, and others like it, gathering dust.”

He quickly cut off, a look of horror spreading over his face.

“That is to say, that’s a completely selfish and wrong thought I have. I can see now that it’s wrong, and nothing good can come of it.”

She managed to suppress a chuckle at his spluttering walk back, sweat beading on his forehead. What a weird mix of passion and self-preservation. He could go a long way if someone helped him learn to temper the former and emphasize the latter. She paused at the thought, an idea beginning to coalesce. Calamir did say he wanted young blood in the mix.

“Let’s suppose you had the opportunity to help make a change in that regard. What would you do?”

He hesitated once again, before shaking his head. The resolute look on his face told her that she probably wasn’t going to get any further with him here.

“Am I under arrest?”

She shook her head lightly, and the tension left his shoulders. He really is too easy to read, this may be more effort than it’s worth.

“No, you’re not under arrest. You’re going to leave this library, and we’re both going to pretend this never happened. If you’re interested in learning more about the restricted runes, and want to do something about them being restricted, come to this address tomorrow after sundown.”

She pulled out her journal and jotted down the address for a restaurant she knew had private rooms. This was a risk, but Calamir had made it clear that it had become time to take some risks. Besides, she’d rather trust her gut on this painfully earnest idealist than whomever Calamir drummed up. He hesitantly reached for the sheet of paper, confusion writ plain on his face.

“Why?”

“Because I like the passion I see in you, and I think you could make a difference. But I need you to understand that what you did here was dangerous, for more reasons than you know. So come talk to me somewhere a bit more private. I think I can help you, and depending on the choices you make, maybe you could help me.”

He nodded thoughtfully before turning towards the door.

“Leave the book.”

He started, before turning back to her and handing her the book. He walked back towards the door a bit quicker than before, opening it slightly and slipping out. She shook her head slightly, walking to retrieve the book she had hidden beneath the chair and returning them both to the shelves.

I think that’s enough library time for the day. That was either just the person I needed, or the dumbest thing I have ever done.

Only time would tell.