Once Forgotten 2.2

Rya entered the Library, questions buzzing through her mind like annoying flies. She wanted answers. She needed answers. If her master was as old as she believed him to be, or even older, there would be some sort of a record of him somewhere. And what of the Fallen God? She shook her head. There would be absolutely no way to validate that story. Besides, Nadarin “vanished from all sight” after he cast himself down. Still…there would be no harm in looking, right?

She casually searched through several of the sections she had found the previous day, finding a few books of interest. She settled down to read, immersing herself within the pages of history, legend, and myth.

After several hours of careful reading, she closed the last book with a sigh of frustration. An elderly old man shuffled up to her. “Is something the matter?”

Rya gave him a smile. “I suppose so, but I’m not sure that anyone could help me.”

The old man chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I happen to run this establishment, and I also happen to know every single article, book, volume, novel, story, document, and record here. Now, what can I do for you?”

Rya blinked for a second, then went into a description of what she was looking for. The elderly man nodded sagely. “Yes, there are a not so surprising number of students and people who take such an interest in this character. However, I do not just let everyone know such information. Kadrin, and the things surrounding him, are all part of a dangerous world.” He fell silent. She felt his eyes pierce her soul, inspecting every inch of her. “However, you, I believe, are not everyone. No, you have been touched by power. True power at that. I wonder….” He fell back into silence.

Rya decided to lay all her cards on the table. The way this conversation was going, it was just like a game of *drakes and jargas. “What do you know of the Tragedy of Nadarin?”

The old man’s eyes widened. He glanced about nervously and gestured her to be silent. “Confound you, child! Keep your voice down!” He took a deep breath. “That story is not at all a very popular one. One of the Eleven Above casting himself down? The vast majority believe such a tale to be heresy. They believe they’re Gods and Goddesses to be beyond such things. However, how can we, mere mortals that most of us are, ever hope to truly understand their divinity?” He grabbed her arm and began leading her. “Leave those volumes, but keep hold of that scythe.” He chuckled at her look. “Oh yes, I know who you are. Now come!”

He led her deeper into the library, deeper than what she knew was allowed for common folk. The sections they were in now were meant only for the master scholars, wizards, engineers, and other masters of crafts. He pulled up short and turned to Rya. “Now, miss, you, if I am correct, are the current holder of the Windcleaver. Though it changes form to fit the person that holds it, there is no denying its identity.”

Rya’s eyes widened. “You know of the Overseers?”

The elder stroked his beard and nodded. “I know of them at what I believe to be a basic understanding of them. In all honesty, common folk like myself don’t really know that much about them. Even you, new as you probably are to that world, may even know more than I.” He paused. “Now, what can I help you with? Would you like to start with your more…questionable research? or do you wish to continue your search for Kadrin within the history of the Realm?”

I think I will continue my search for Kadrin.” Rya answered.

The elder began leading her through the section, handing her the odd volume or book. “Now mind you, you have quite a bit of reading ahead of you. Kadrin has a tendency of disappearing completely from the records, so there are many gaps. As for your other search, you may as well give that one up. If indeed Nadarin did cast himself down, he certainly left no human record of it other than his story. But the real question is why did he spread the tale of his fall? Why would he do such a thing? Would it not be better if he kept it all secret?”

Rya shrugged. “He wished the mortals to see his side of things. To see what he saw as the truth of things. What the other Gods disagreed with him on.”

The old librarian froze in his tracks. “Beg pardon?”

Rya turned to him. “I mean, if he did see the world as stagnating because of the Sealing, wouldn’t it make sense that he would try to persuade us that what we did was a mistake? That it wasn’t the solution?”

The librarian was silent for a long while before finally nodding. “Yes, yes. It makes perfect sense! Why did I never see this before? Both the mortals and the other Ten were against him. If his brothers and sisters would not listen to him, why not go to the mortals?”

Rya nodded. “Plus, from what we know of the Gods, they decided long ago that they would not directly interfere with our decisions. They would provide us with guidance, but it is ultimately our choice of what we do. But in that case, wouldn’t Nadarin be going against that?”

“Not necessarily.” The librarian replied, shaking his head. “If the legend is true, he gave up most of his divinity. Therefore, he would not be using divine powers to sway the hearts of the people. No, he would simply be teaching truth to those who will listen. Besides, perhaps some of the other Gods have begun to question his motives. His side of things.”

Again, Rya nodded in agreement. “Well, I suppose I should get to reading through all of this, but it’s getting late.” She said, glancing out at the fading light outside.

“I will keep your books separate. When you come in tomorrow, just ask for Jerard. That would be me.” The old man smiled. “I thank you, young miss. You have given me much to ponder over.”

He took the books and shuffled off, leaving Rya to find her own way. As she did, a hand reached out of one of the aisles and grabbed her. She found herself staring into the eyes of a young man wearing a long cloak. “Researching a God is a dangerous thing. Especially a Fallen one. You best be careful, Rya, Keeper of the Wind, lest you end up face to face with the Immortal.” He hissed. He released her and vanished around a corner.

Rya stood there for several minutes, taking deep calming breaths. Trembling slightly, she picked up her fallen staff and hurried on her way. She was more cautious now, glancing down the aisles for any signs of her oppressor, but there was no trace of him. Somewhat calmed down, she made it back to the main section of the Library and exited the ancient building. Brint was waiting for her.

He frowned when he saw her, noticing her involuntary flinch when he touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re face is pale like you’ve seen the Dead.”

She shook her head. “I-It’s nothing.”

Brint’s frown deepened. “Not, it’s not nothing. Something happened. What?”

She looked away. “I…I think I was just threatened…”

“What?!” Brint cried, alarm flashing across his face.

She gulped. “I…I was coming back from the restricted section, when…I was grabbed. This…strange man…he….pulled me down an aisle and pinned me against the shelves.”

“What did he do to you? Did he harm you?”

She shook her head. “No, he didn’t…he just…threatened me. He said, ‘Researching a God is a dangerous thing. Especially a Fallen one. You best be careful.’ But what really got me…Brint…he knew who I was! He knew exactly who I was, Overseer and everything!”

Brint pulled her into an embrace. She clung to him, trembling. “It’s going to be alright.” He whispered. She clung tighter. Brint stared at the Library, frowning. ‘Who was it that threatened her? He knows much if he knows who she is.’

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Kadrin strode through the city, blending in with the darkness the night brings. During the day, his movements were somewhat limited, but at night, he had free reign. At night, the city was much different than it was during the day. The taverns were filled with people getting off work; homes were lit up with the fires of homes, spouses returning to their families.

And night is also when the more…unsavory crowd was about. Guards made regular patrols of the majority of the city, but like all cities, there were a few places that drew those considered unsavory. And it was to one of these places Kadrin now made his way to. He turned down an alley, leaving behind the clean, lighted main area and headed into the darker side. As he moved, the buildings around him became grimier and more run down. Garbage began to litter the ground, a foul stench rising from the gutters. But Kadrin didn’t take notice of any of it. He continued on.

“It has been some time, has it not?” A voice asked from the shadows.

Kadrin froze and slowly turned to the shadow as a snik caught in a hunter’s lamp. “You…I can’t believe it’s you…”

“Yes, it is. I almost wasn’t going to speak with you, but I must.” The voice was feminine, light yet held a power of its own. A small wave of power rushed over Kadrin, causing him to stumble back a step. “I have taken a…interest in your cause.”

“Why?” Kadrin asked.

A sigh came in response. “Because there may just be something to all of this. Darkness has grown too powerful. Much more than I thought it would. That and I am not blind. Every day, I see the demons growing stronger. I see what they are preparing for. They intend to destroy the Realm as it is and remake it as they see fit. I will not let that happen.”

“So what do you intend to do?” Kadrin asked, more cautious than he had been in more than five hundred years.

She was silent for a long while, the air heavy with her answer. “I give you my…support. But I will not interfere. You will be the one to…get your hands dirty.” With that, Kadrin knew she was gone. The shadows were empty, bare of any signs of life. Kadrin gave a weary sigh and trudged on, his burden heavier than ever.