The Black Librarian Archives

by Taylor Clogston

  “Look, we really need one more person to join. Even if it’s just for a semester, would you mind? You needn’t participate in the actual excursions if you’re worried about danger. In any event we’ll make at least as much money as sewer tenders.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” asked Dan. “What’s all this talk of treasure hunting?”

  “Dungeoneering!” said Tor Pin.

  “We use dungeon shards to find treasure,” said Richard. “Surely you’ve heard of them even in whatever place you come from.”

  “I lived in the country,” said Dan. “But there was a library nearby, so I’ve read stories where people explored dungeons and found treasure. What do you mean by ‘shards,’ though?”

  Marit’s mouth formed an impatient line. “I promise this is as good a deal as you’ll find on such short notice, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” She glanced at Tarissa. “Right guys?”

  “R-right,” the redheaded girl replied. She didn’t seem appreciative of the way Marit had taken control of the conversation, but pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from a pouch at her waist. “Sign here, Dan, and we’ll explain stuff over dinner.”

  Dan took the club charter with hesitation, but used the pen proffered by Richard to scratch his name at the bottom. He didn’t feel like he had much say in the matter.

  “Wonderful!” said Tor Pin. He stood and took Dan’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Welcome to the club. You won’t regret your decision.”

  ***

  Dan spent another hour walking the grounds and taking in the sights before returning to find the Treasure Hunting Club packing up their tent. He helped them and then joined as the club walked to the Laughing Eel. It was more boisterous in the evening, with a greater ratio of students to merchants and apprentices than earlier in the day. To his relief, Dan’s new companions treated him to dinner. They piled their table with beef stew and the inn’s crusty bread, along with pitchers of cider and a whole platter of baked tomatoes. Dan dug in while the others explained their club’s purpose.

  “The ancient mages knew they wouldn’t last forever,” said Tor Pin. “On the verge of extinction due to systematic oppression from the Knights Miracular, they invented a new kind of magic which allowed them to section off little… well, little ‘worlds’ is probably the best way to put it? It involves manipulation of the Sea of Mana, but its inner workings aren’t entirely known to modern scholars.”

  Dan swallowed a bite of stew. “Never heard of it. All I know is mana powers the beads Mystics use.”

  “Yeah,” said Tarissa. “And powers the other schools. You’ll learn about that in introductory classes. Oh, before we go any further, let’s get this out of the way. It’ll make explanations easier.” She opened a leather pouch at her waist and pulled out something which looked similar to the lens the headmistress had used to test Dan’s magical aptitude. “You seen one of these before, country boy?”

  Dan nodded. “The headmistress told me I have affinity with all three types of magic from it.”

  Marit leaned in. “Really? That’s interesting. We knew you were a spirit user, but can you use Mysticism in a high capacity too?”

  “I don’t actually use magic much. Ruckus doesn’t give me useful magic, and I’m here to be a Librarian, so it’s a waste of time to worry about Mysticism.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Richard. He reached across the table and stole one of Dan’s pieces of bread. “What does Librarian magic have to do with it?”

  Tor Pin adjusted his spectacles. “Interesting. I’ve never met someone with aptitude for all three types.” He turned to Richard. “I forget you don’t know the mechanics of your abilities, Richard. Librarian magic connects to the Sea differently than the other two schools. A Librarian stores up his power slowly, over a great span of time, but it’s pulled into Mystic beads as readily as ordinary bodily mana, wasting potentially years of progress in moments.”

  ”Then what’s the use of being a Librarian if you can be a Mystic?” asked Richard.

  Tarissa sighed, leaning back in her chair. She had closed one eye and appeared to be staring through her device by the lamplight above. “Not everyone wants to be a combat magician, and not everyone wants to use more than one kind of magic. It’s inconvenient, yeah, but Librarians are an odd bunch.” She set the glass object down. “Now, the headmistress probably has a standard ennescope which reacts to the presence of mana threads, but I got my hands on a fancier one which gives more information. Usually you don’t need to know more than what kinds of mana are present, but I want to get as much knowledge as possible.”

  Richard poked his sister in the ribs. “Tarissa doesn’t have any magic herself, but that doesn’t stop her from being the best scholar on the Sea of Mana in a hundred years!”

  “Someday,” said Tarissa, rolling her eyes. “For now, I just gather information.”

  “A most admirable goal!” said Tor Pin. “The company of a dedicated scholar is exciting when compared to the studiousness of the average student.”

  “Quiet, four eyes,” said Tarissa. She tapped the top of the lens and then slid it toward Dan. “You know the drill. Drop of blood, please.”

  Dan pulled away the bit of cloth he had used as a bandage. He winced as he exposed the small wound and dripped two bright drops of blood onto the glass surface.

  To Dan’s surprise, Tarissa pulled the object apart into three brass-rimmed sections, each of which she smeared with a bit of his blood. They looked like little glass pyramids now, though as he watched he could begin to see tiny suspended flakes shimmering in the lamplight.

  Except the brightness didn’t come from the lamp. It wavered as it became brighter, splitting into blue and red and green fragments that moved inside the glass like fireflies in fog. In each of the glass sections, one of the colors became more dominant until only a single color of flakes remained in each. The particles flitted and spun, mesmerizing Dan as he leaned in closer.

  “It looks like your Librarian affinity is pretty low,” said Tarissa.

  “But I still have it.”

  “Oh yeah, you can definitely use it, but compared to this aptitude for Contractor mana… Miracles, you should really rethink your career.”

  Dan sighed. “You’re not the first person today to say that.”

  “Oh, and your aptitude for Mysticism is nothing special, but you’d still be a better Mystic than Librarian.”

  Tor Pin began scratching notes on a paper he had materialized from one of his robe’s many pockets. “Fascinating. A movement pattern I have never seen.”

  Richard yawned pointedly. “Pretty lights. Are we done yet?”

  Tarissa raised a hand, waving away her brother’s affected boredom. “You’re right, Tor Pin. It’s becoming more erratic as it enters phase state. It’s almost like…” She drew back as white light suffused each of the pyramids.

  Dan pulled away, instinctively covering his eyes. He could hear Tor Pin speaking, but for some reason it was difficult to make out the words.

  “…Deactivate…Not supposed to…”

  And then the light was gone. The room had gone quiet, and many of the nearby students looked over at the club’s table with bemused expressions. Dan shrugged in what he hoped looked like an apology, and conversation resumed in the tavern.

  Richard rubbed his eyes. “Miracles above, sis, what was that?”

  Tor Pin picked up one of the pyramids. “No damage seems to have occurred,” he said. “What caused the ennescope to malfunction?”

  “I don’t know that it was a malfunction,” said Tarissa. “Everything seems to be fine. Here, let’s try again with my blood.” She pricked her own finger and touched a pyramid. This time the blue sparks that appeared dissipated after a few seconds. “Yeah, it seems to be working fine.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” said Dan, raising his hands in protest. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”

  Tor Pin ignored him. “The threads of
mana didn’t manifest in phase state like they should have. That could mean one of several things, I suppose. We can leave aside malfunction, though that seems the most likely.”

  “Yeah,” said Tarissa, “and no offense Dan, but you don’t strike me as clever enough to pull an elaborate trick on me using my own device.”

  “But the only alternative to that would be…” Tor Pin trailed off. He glanced at Dan again, who shrugged, wishing he understood what was going on.

  “Dan, your connection to the Sea is weird, whatever the explanation.” Tarissa began cleaning off the pyramids with the same sort of smelly liquid the headmistress had used. “I’d very much like to do more research later when I have more information available.”

  Sighing, Dan downed the last of his cider and turned to the only person at dinner who hadn’t joined in the conversation. He pulled back at the look of intense concentration on Marit’s face. “Is something wrong?”

  She shook her head, seeming lost in thought. “No, I don’t think so. Err, Dan, where did you come from before the orphanage?”

  “Well, I lived with a couple foster families in a big city, but they hated me. A very kind person rescued me from that life and brought me to the orphanage. Before all that…” Dan faltered. He didn’t want to remember his old life. “I lived with my parents, when they were still alive.”

  Marit flushed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. I was just… curious.”

  Dan would have told her it wasn’t a big deal, but Richard punched him in the shoulder, making him wince. The redheaded boy leaned in close to Dan. “Hey, don’t let her get you down. She’s always too serious. Have some more cider and we’ll celebrate the re-founding of the Treasure Hunter’s Club!”

  Dan smiled, but through the rest of the night he couldn’t help but remember that blinding white glare and the troubled expression on Marit’s face. It wasn’t until he retired to his room, Ruckus already asleep beside him, that Dan realized he had never told Marit he was an orphan.

  Chapter 4

  Dan woke with a start and wondered where he was. Ruckus raised his head at the foot of the bed and yawned.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” said Richard.

  Dan turned with a groan, rubbed his eyes, and saw the redheaded student standing beside the dormitory window, dressed and stretching. As he yawned, Dan remembered the events of the previous night. After their sort-of-party, Dan had returned to the dormitory to which he had been assigned. As they were now in the same club, Richard had requested to share a dorm with Dan, and that request had been granted. Like many of the other students waiting until arranging Clubs to determine rooms, Richard had been staying at a dingy inn between semesters.

  The dormitory was nicer than the room Dan had shared with his siblings at the orphanage. Stone tiles covered the floor and rose to meet the wall’s rougher blocks. A dirty, four-paned glass window was set into one wall, and the rising sun painted their room a warm orange. The opposite wall bore a hearth, though the weather wasn’t yet cold enough for a fire. Warped wooden chests rested beside each of the equally rough beds. Dan sat up in his own bed, blinking at the light glaring into his eyes.

  “So,” said Dan. “What’s our business for the day? Will you help me get set up with the classes I need? I was told I should do that.”

  “The University puts a lot of emphasis on getting clubs sorted out first, since it’s the way a lot of students earn their tuition,” said Richard. “No one arranges classes this early in the semester.” He grinned. “That said, we’re going on our first treasure hunt at eight. No time to lose!”

  “…Right.” Dan looked at Ruckus. “How’d you sleep?”

  “About as well as a spirit can.” He hopped off the bed. “Let’s go get breakfast, I could use some ham.”

  They met Tor Pin in the dining hall attached to the main building. It was on the other side of the campus from the men’s dorms, making Dan dread the prospect of making the trek in the winter. Stone tiles made up the floor as with the rest of the University buildings, but the walls were clad with wide cedar boards stretching into an awning above the hall. Several hatches high above were tied with cords which Tor Pin explained could be hauled down in case things got too smoky. Dan wasn’t sure of the safety concerns of a dining hall built from flammable wood, but then he wasn’t a tradesman.

  Breakfast was porridge of oats with watered-down honey and dried berries accompanied by goat’s milk. To Ruckus’ dismay, there was no ham. It was fine fare compared to what Dan was used to, and their seats were close enough to the food line that it was still hot by the time they sat.

  “Where are the girls?” Dan asked as they began to eat.

  Richard smirked as he poured honey on his bowl of porridge. “Sure you don’t mean ‘Where’s Marit?’ I saw how were looking at her last night.”

  “Just curious,” Dan mumbled, flushing. “And I wasn’t trying to stare at her, she was just acting weird.”

  “Sure,” said Richard, spooning a bite of porridge in his mouth and gulping it down before continuing. “The girls have a kitchen attached to their dorm. My sister cooks better than the jokers we have in here, so she cooks over there a lot and gets a refund on board fees.” He sighed. “I wish we had a kitchen next to our dorm. It’d make things so much nicer when it gets cold.”

  “As if you could cook,” said Tor Pin. “You would make me do it all while you just sat there and ordered me around.”

  “How long have you been here?” interjected Dan. “I should have asked that last night. Sorry for being rude.”

  “No worries,” said Richard. “My sister and I are third-year students, so this’ll be our fifth semester. Tor Pin was here last spring but not winter; it’s more common than you’d think. I don’t know about Marit, she’s almost as new to the club as you.” He set down his spoon and reached for more honey syrup. “Sis, Tor Pin, and I have been treasure hunters the whole time we’ve been here.”

  Dan felt relieved. Treasure hunting couldn’t be so terribly dangerous if someone as laid-back as Richard had survived two years of it. “Why does the University allow such a dangerous club to exist?” Dan asked. “It seems to me they’d do everything they could to keep their students safe.”

  Tor Pin snorted. “You would be surprised. So long as the spirit of the club is not at odds to the law and so long as the proper paperwork is filed, there are virtually no limits. Guild-sponsored clubs have strict regulations, but those aren’t as a result of University involvement.”

  Richard stood and gathered the table’s dirty dishes. “Stop boring Dan. Help me clean so we can get to the fun part.”

  Dan followed. He wondered if, should the worst happen, anyone at the University would even know he was gone.

  ***

  They had agreed to meet at the iron gate after breakfast. Tarissa and Marit each carried a sack bulging with blocky shapes.

  “Took you long enough,” said Tarissa. “We were wondering if you all decided to take a nap.”

  Dan followed behind as the party walked through town to the autobus station. He had expected more people to be active, but they only passed a few dozen bakers and butchers and merchants setting up their wares, and not many students at all. In the smaller city of Elrein, there had always been a great hustle at dawn as farmers and merchants jostled elbows to complete business before the day grew long, and the lack of raucous voices struck Dan as odd. When he mentioned it, Marit gave him a skeptical glance.

  “It’s a schooling city, so a lot of the economy is based around the lives of the students. Most shops open at about seven in the morning when students get out of early classes.”

  “That’s so late,” said Dan.

  “Sure, I guess.” Marit shrugged. “They close up later, too, so I guess it evens out.”

  After a short time spent waiting the autobus arrived, and the treasure hunting club stepped on board. Dan still possessed the thick ticket which would take him anywhere in the city as long as it was still the mo
nth he had purchased it. The others paid halfpenny fares, and as a dozen other people boarded—mostly farmhands and cartography club members—the bus began its rattling, smoky passage through the countryside to the east of Ormuil.

  Pine needles crunched underfoot as the club disembarked at the edge of a dark forest. Tarissa confirmed the autobus would return in a few hours and then led the group through the tree line, past the point of a beaten path. Unease crawled down Dan’s back as he recalled fairy stories of people stepping off forest paths to be swallowed forever by monsters, but he was reassured when Marit turned to give a hesitant smile. Of course these people knew what they were doing. They wouldn’t get lost.

  Dan remembered what they had explained the previous night, how dungeons could only open at the intersection of two ‘leylines,’ places where connections to the Sea of Mana were greatest in the natural world. It all just looked like trees and undergrowth to Dan, but Tor Pin, who led the group, seemed to be reading some signs off a map he held.

  “Is this it?” asked Dan. Ruckus stopped beside him and sniffed the air.

  “Smells very nice here,” said the spirit dog. “I think this is it.”

  Marit stretched and leaned down to pull something out of her boot. “Yep,” she said. “Just a second.”

  Dan stepped back, surprised, as Marit used a thick-bladed knife to scrape wide sheets of moss from a boulder protruding from the ground. The revealed stone looked like granite at first, but as it remained exposed to the air its surface smoothed and marbled in a milky pattern of blue and gray.

  “Is that the leyline?” asked Dan.

  Tarissa shook her head, looking impatient. “No, it’s just a rock that soaked up a ton of mana because it’s on the leylines. Stone does that. Over time, it becomes a great place to use as a shard anchor.” The redheaded girl stepped forward and rummaged in her leather punch, pulling out a gleaming piece of glass which she dropped onto the surface of the boulder. It hovered, thick cracks streaming light beginning to suffuse its surface. Tarissa turned back to Tor Pin. “Go on, I can’t do the next part.” Bitterness chilled her words.