“Really? How large of a collection is it?”
Mikha’el cannot suppress a louder laugh.
“Do you really not know of the Valachian library?”
“No...”
“Well, My Lady, it would take a structure some twice the size of your fair castle to hold it.”
“How can that be? Your village had no such building.”
“You stayed in but one cottage. The library was underground at one time, but after Eoin’s death, Alastor asked us to hide it somewhere more secure.”
“Why?”
“It contained numerable tomes which he thought might be too dangerous in the wrong hands, but far too valuable to destroy.”
A light seems to illuminate Morion’s face.
“I think Alastor intends for us to use this library, Mikha’el.”
“My Lady?”
“What do you know about the Scyld?”
“Beyond that they exist? Nothing.”
“I guessed as much. If it is at all possible, I would like to look through the Valachian library for information on the Scyld.”
“That can easily be arranged, but what have the Scyld to do with Alastor?”
“It was to them that he traveled, but there is more to it, I believe.”
Mikha’el thinks for a moment, rubbing his chin.
“When would you like to visit the library, My Lady?”
“As soon as possible! I do not wish to remain idle here any longer.”
“Very well. I shall go make the necessary preparations. I will come back to you when all is set.”
“Thank you, Mikha’el.”
“Thank me not. As it concerns Alastor, it concerns Samael, and as our Knight said, we must remain vigilant.”
Mikha’el, as is his custom, bows and leaves. Morion, tired from her work, now has a palpable feeling of success. The day ends on a higher note than last, her nightly duty of diary writing letting her chronicle this new task proper. When she has finished, she goes to sleep, finding a dream unlike any before it.
Epilogue
The Last Dream
Return to Table of Contents
Morion is in an ancient underground temple.
Pillars fallen.
Wall carvings faded beyond recognition.
She is not herself, but a bodiless specter, an observer.
In this temple, she finds a scene that makes her heart heavy with dread.
A black dragon lies, defeated, on the ground. Beaten and bloodied, but still alive. Looming over it, a red dragon stands victorious. Standing beside the red dragon, a skeleton wearing black robes. The skeleton holds in its claw-like hands two marionettes, their strings cut. In the right hand, a female puppet, and in the left a male. Though motionless, the eyes of the puppets blink and cry while beholding the fallen black dragon.
The red one roars triumphantly while the robed skeleton cackles madly. Morion tries to shout, to call out to the black dragon, be she has no voice here. She can only watch what occurs next.
The red dragon pulls its head back and strikes, ripping at the throat of the black dragon, killing it. The roaring and the laughing grow louder and louder, darker and more insidious.
Even in her dream, Morion weeps uncontrollably.
~-~~-~
The Legacy Will Continue…
The Black Knight Page 52
