Emblems of Power

by C L Patterson

As the two walked down the West Stair, Kosai looked up, trying to peer through the green light and catch a glimpse of the Oasis, but as they descended, the light grew dimmer and dimmer until, at the end of the stair, Kosai and Mearto stood in complete darkness. Mearto grabbed a metallic object and snapped her fingers. There was a bright crack of flame, which quickly dimmed as Mearto adjusted the brightness of an oil lantern.

  “Lanterns are at the bottom of the stair on your right about three feet off the ground,” Mearto said as she grabbed a second lantern and lit it by touching the glass. The wick of the lantern burst in flame. Kosai took it and adjusted the dial so that it let off a comfortable glow. “Follow me.”

  As he followed Mearto, Kosai looked around at the seemingly never-ending aisles and shelves of books. Each bookcase reached the ceiling and was fitted with a sliding ladder. The walkways were narrow and every way Mearto led Kosai, there were more and more books. Kosai glanced at some of the titles as they walked. Few were on subjects Kosai was familiar with or had studied briefly such as politics, alchemy and history. Most of the books were about subjects he never heard of. He followed his teacher through the labyrinth of books until she stopped just inside one of the alleys.

  “Do you want me to read all of these?” Kosai asked, shocked at the amount of books and their width.

  “No one has ever read all of these books,” she said as she scanned the titles, drawing her finger across the spines of the books. “We are always acquiring more. There is an unlimited source of knowledge within these walls, and there is still more to discover both within and without. The section that I want you to read is… this way,” Mearto said.

  Mearto led Kosai deeper into the library. Books were crammed next to each other filling the entire shelf. Some books seemed to be untouched for years based on the thick film of dust that covered their spines, pages, and shelves. Other books were no more than a stack of pages bound together in leather.

  Mearto continued to lead Kosai through the library. Each dust covered book and shelf looked exactly like the last. When Mearto stopped, Kosai hoped that she would stay.

  “Here is your first assignment. You are to scan each of the books on that shelf.” She pointed to a book shelf where most of the books’ titles were worn or faded. There were eight rows of books that were above the one she was pointing at, two below. The book shelf she was pointing to spanned twelve books before it connected to the other book case.

  “How do I get out when I am finished?” Kosai asked, hoping that she would return to escort him out of the maze. Mearto grabbed Kosai’s lantern and placed it into a holder on the shelf.

  “That is your second assignment. If you want to eat or sleep comfortably, you have to get out of here by yourself.” With that, Mearto turned and walked away, the light from her lantern growing dimmer with each step.

  “Well that shouldn’t be too hard,” Kosai said to himself. He sighed as he picked up the first book that was on the left side on the shelf. The book had a brown leather covering and the title had been pressed instead of painted. Kosai wiped the dust off the cover. The book was titled “The Faye and Their Workings” and was a much thinner volume than the others, looking to be about one-hundred pages, and had the feel of a journal, rather than an actual book. Kosai glanced at the cover again as he sat down and began to read.

  The first five pages were blank, but as he turned the sixth page, the edge of the paper sliced his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood. As he brought his thumb to his lips to suck on the wound, a small drop fell on the page. When he looked at the page again, there was one phrase written with what looked like a quill pen.

  The first lesson you must learn about the Faye is patience, so be patient.

  Kosai read the words, nodded, and turned the page. The next page was blank, he turned it, and the next page was blank, as well as the next, and one after that. He realized that each page was blank as he quickly thumbed through the pages. When he got to the last page, there was another phrase.

  Were you patient?

  “What?” Kosai asked in frustration. The words on the page seemed to ask the question a second time, and then more words began to appear in the book.

  I told you at the beginning that you had to be patient!

  The words that wrote themselves faded and Kosai jumped back, pressing his back against the adjacent bookshelf. The book fell from his lap, closed, and then opened itself to the sixth page.

  The first lesson you must learn about the Faye is patience, so be patient.

  “Ok, patience, right.” Kosai hesitantly picked up the book, and waited for more words to appear. “Can… can you hear me?”

  Kosai sat silently and watched the words on the book fade back into the white pages. In a few seconds, the pages were white again, with no evidence of former ink. He crossed his legs, sitting, patiently, on the stone floor. After a few moments, black lettering re-appeared on the white pages.

  Your past is written in your blood, and your blood is in my pages. I know you now. I know all the questions you would think of asking for they too are written in your blood. You need not ask me aloud.

  The words stayed on the page, and Kosai read them over and over.

  “How much do you know about me?” Kosai thought. Eventually the words faded and new ones began to appear.

  I am the only book you will ever need. My writer wrote me with the ability to absorb information from other books or libraries. I have gained all the information within this library, and better yet, I have only kept what information is useful. Every principle and idea that you would ever need to know is found in my pages, but tell no one that you have found me. To others, I look like nothing more than a blank journal. Many have opened me, their blood is in these pages, and I know them. Your blood has been the first to unlock my pages.

  “Why mine though?”Kosai looked up from the book as he heard a group of people run down the West Stair. Kosai closed the book, placed it on the shelf and closed his eyes, trying to listen to the exact count in the group. As he closed his eyes, the group split into two. Kosai listened for few seconds longer and figured there were three in one group and two in the other. They were going to try to box him within the aisle. Kosai looked up at the shelves, and attempted to climb upwards. But as he began to pull his body up, the wood moaned and cracked slightly. Climbing up to the higher ground for advantage was not an option. The group closed in on him.

  Two appeared at his left, three at his right. They were taller boys, each wearing the uniform with a green stripe and holding their own lantern. Tan cloth masks covered the lower part of their faces. Kosai’s skin tingled and bumped. He stood with his back to the bookshelf where he found the book. Each boy stretched their open hand towards him, fingers up, palm out, as if telling him to stop. Kosai breathed and his vision darkened, his knees trembled and he stumbled forward, falling against the other bookcase, knocking a few books off the shelves and onto the floor.

  “Not this time,” Kosai said. He swung blindly at the group to his left. The boys backed into the open. Kosai reached for one of the boys as they stepped away and caught one by the collar of his shirt. Kosai reached his left leg across the boy’s right and tripped him. As the boy fell, Kosai swung him into the crook of his elbow, placed his other hand behind the boy’s neck and squeezed. The student coughed, spat and squirmed as he struggled to breathe. Kosai tightened his grip. The boy swung the lamp violently at Kosai’s head, missed, dropped the lamp, and went limp in Kosai’s arms. The other four stood in front of Kosai and closed their hands.

  “Not another step or I kill your friend here. If I hold this grip for another minute, he will die. Take a step closer and all I have to do is lift,” Kosai lifted his arms, tilting the boy’s head up slightly, “and twist,” he started to turn the boy’s head slowly and stopped when he felt the pressure of the neck bones resist further movement.

  “You won’t do it,” one of the boys whispered. The words were clear, but the tone and es
sence of the voice was mutated and sounded like a crackle of a fire mixed with words.

  “I have killed dozens of men in self defense, both by the sword and with my hands. Do not force me to do the same here.”

  “You won’t do it,” whispered another boy. Kosai squeezed his arms tighter. The blood of the young man in his arms pulsed against his forearms.

  “Maybe he will,” another boy whispered. The words seemed to come from all around him. Kosai assumed the boy who was backing away from the group was the one who spoke.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Again the words seemed to come from all around him and they sounded like crackling flames. A boy lifted his hand and pointed an open palm at Kosai. “I advise you to run out of this room as fast as you can.” Kosai assumed the boy who raised his arm was talking. The remaining boys looked at each other but didn’t speak. After a moment, the three bolted for the exit. One stopped and turned to look as Kosai began to loosen his grip, but disappeared behind a bookshelf.

  “You would sacrifice your friend to kill me?” Kosai ask surprisedly, still holding unrelenting his grip.

  “His life is of little worth to me compared to what I have to give up.” At those words, the boy closed his hands and the lamps went out. Instantly, Kosai thrust the limp body in his arms forward. The limp body hit the attacker. Kosai used the distraction and rushed his opponent. He jumped and kicked forward just before where he thought his attacker would be. His strike landed in the attacker’s gut, but it wasn’t as strong of a strike as Kosai would have liked. Kosai could hear the attacker take a few steps back. Kosai rushed his opponent again with another arial kick. It landed solidly in the masked youth’s chest, doubling him over and sending rolling backwards into a main alleyway. Kosai was just able to make out the outline of the book cases and where his assailant lay.

  The masked youth stood slowly as Kosai approached. Jagged arcs of lightning sparked around the boy’s hands, the bright flashes of light briefly illuminating the area. When the sparks stopped, Kosai was left blind again, his eyes adjusting rapidly to the bright light, but slowly to the suddent darkness.

  “Do you think I would approach you in open combat?” the voice said again from every direction. Kosai tried to block out the voice and focus on another sound, but all he could hear was the voice. There was another spark of lightning. Before Kosai could react, the masked youth threw a white orb at him. It struck Kosai in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Kosai’s skin burned underneath the chainmail.

  Another arc of lightning cracked in the masked youth’s hand. Kosai rolled out of the way just in time. His armor and uniform clinked and rattled as he moved and he hoped that the masked youth’s senses were not as attuned as his. Kosai dared not move in the dark for fear of being heard. There was another crack of lightning, brighter and bigger than the last, and for the briefest second Kosai saw his assailant. Kosai rolled again just as another blast exploded next to him and rushed a third time. Lightning sparked again, giving Kosai a clear picture of where to land his next blow. The masked youth closed his fist, and started to back pedal, but he was too slow. Kosai sidestepped another electric orb, transferred his weight, and launched into the air.

  He twisted, spun his leg around and planted his shin into the boy’s skull. At the crack of impact, the boy went down. Kosai didn’t hesitate. He rushed to the unconscious attacker, kneeled on his chest and removed the cloth that covered his face.

  One of the lanterns flickered back to light and Kosai looked around to ensure he and the two boys were alone. The other boy he had choked was unconscious, in the same position Kosai had left him. Kosai decided that the lantern’s wick was not completely extinguished when it was put out and re-lit of its own accord. The youth who had shot lightning from his hands was beginning to stir.

  Kosai looked down at his own uniform briefly. His armor and shirt were blackened from the initial blast and smelled of burnt metal.He then looked at the masked attacker. He looked close to Kosai’s age. He was Kosai’s height with a average build of a healthy diet and underutilized muscles. Slight stubble was beginning to form on his upper lip and his face was not that of a young teenager, nor of an adult. The boy groaned as Kosai tapped him on the cheek. After a few more taps, he woke and tried to shuffle away. Kosai forced him to the ground, shoving his forearm into the boy’s neck, poised to strike with his other.

  “Who sent you?” Kosai whispered intensely, listening to his surroundings and making sure that the rest of the group was leaving. The other four were already climbing up the stairs.

  “It doesn’t matter.” The boy let out a light chuckle as he spoke. “You were dead the moment you walked in here.”

  “I could crush your throat and kill you in seconds, and no one would hear your screams,” Kosai whispered as he placed his finger tips on the young man’s throat between the jugular and Adam’s apple and squeezed. The boy coughed and grabbed Kosai’s hands. He kicked and squirmed, and then Kosai released.

  “We heard a rumor that you are going to destroy the school,” the boy croaked quickly. His blonde hair had been combed off to one side and was now ruffled. Gasping for air, he stared back at Kosai.

  “Who did you hear it from?”

  “The Seer,” the boy said. Kosai smiled and struck the boy across the jaw. Still kneeling over him, Kosai memorized his face. The boy looked like he was from a wealthier family in Linnouse with his blonde hair and blue eyes. There was a small amount of fat under his chin and in his cheeks. A bruise began to form on his face. Kosai nodded in satisfaction, knowing that he could find the boy again, if needed.

  “I can’t have you following me,” Kosai said as he stood up. He grabbed the book that wrote itself, tucked it between his trousers and shirt on his right hip, grabbed both lamps, and ran towards the exit. He closed his eyes and listened as other people entered and exited the library and mapped out in his mind where he needed to go. After listening for a couple seconds, he ran straight towards the West Stair.

  When Kosai reached the West Stair, he blew out the torches, set them on the rack and then continued his run upward skipping two or three stairs at time. He bumped into Mearto at the entrance to the main level. Each stumbled, trying to catch their balance. Kosai grabbed the rail. Mearto stumbled for a moment and started to fall backwards. Instinctively, Kosai reached an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. She placed a hand on the rail and the other on the wall opposite. Kosai took a breath and regained his composure, trying not to look in a rush or wearied. As he breathed through his nose, he caught the smell of sea salt and lilac.

  “Kosai,” Mearto said sharply. “Please remove your hand, I am quite fine now.” Kosai blushed and removed his hand, realizing that his hand placement was slightly lower than he desired. “I see you have made it out of the library and I assume you must be a quick reader in order to finish your assignment. What is that smell?” Mearto sniffed the air and looked at Kosai’s uniform. “What happened to your armor? It looks burnt.”

  “I um… need to take a break and make a visit to the Seer. You…” he paused. She smelled of lilac and sea salt. Hadn’t he smelled that before? Mearto looked at Kosai expectantly for a moment. Kosai was almost overcome by the aroma, hinting at something, something important...

  “Kosai, I don’t have all day.”

  “You should go into the library, where you showed me. There is someone there who needs you,” Kosai said while slowly walking around Mearto, and further up the West Stair. Mearto nodded and continued to walk into the library.

  Kosai calmly walked up the stairs and tried to wipe the black burn residue off of his armor. The stairs were made from a black metal. The staircase spiraled tightly upward. The hand rail was a flat piece of metal that followed the stairs and was supported by twisted cast iron rods. A sweet smell of flowers and honey grew stronger as he walked up the stairs. The wooden door at the top of the stairs had a rounded top and cast iron handle. He hesitated a moment, gathered his compos
ure, and pushed the door open.

  Moist air poured over his face, dampening his hair and eyebrows. Moss and luscious green grass covered the ground. Three tiered fountains, a third of the size of the main fountain in the heart of the city, were spread about the Oasis, splashing and spilling clear water throughout the green landscape, creating small streams that carved through the ground like blue snakes. The streams came together in a type of moat that circled around the Oasis. Grass, twigs, and insects floated in the water. Kosai guessed that the Oasis was another spring, but couldn’t figure out how the water traveled to the top floor. He shook his head, putting away the thought and walked forwards.

  Goldenrod yellow, blood red, and fire orange flowers interlaced with ivy covered the surfaces of the fountains. The pedals formed a long bell shape, similar to a trumpet and were aptly called trumpet flowers. On the perimeter of the oasis was a covered walkway which was supported by large, white, stone pillars. Ivy and other trumpet flowers crawled up the pillars. Pollen was suspended in the air, like miniature floating golden orbs. Bushes, small shrubs, and fruit trees were also in the oasis, giving the scenery depth and texture. Small buds of fruit were just beginning to grow on the trees. Bees dug deep into the flowers to extract nectar. Kosai looked around and spotted three beehives. Chickens clucked and scratched at the ground, attempting to pick out grubs and beetles with their beaks.

  At the center of the Oasis was a reed-woven chair that looked like half an egg opened up and stood on end. The Seer sat in the woven chair, legs crossed, hands in his lap, and his eyes closed. Some students walked slowly around the Oasis, others sat within the oasis, meditating. Kosai, seeing that the Seer was alone, took the opportunity and approached him.

  “Sir,” Kosai whispered. The Seer opened his eyes and smiled at Kosai.

  “Kosai, it is good to see you.” He laughed to himself again. “Oh, that one never gets old. But I do!” The Seer let out a deep belly laugh, and then wiped his eyes. “Tell me, how are you getting along so far?”