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Chapter Five: Night-Spirits
The spell of Believing was an extremely compound enchantment, requiring days of preparation. King Ackador pulled out a giant book from his large shelf and positioned it in front of us, open at the page explaining the spell of Believing. The letters glared back at me which were approximately the size of my head. King Ackador read the page aloud:
The spell of Believing has been known to exist since the beginning of time. This spell, taking five days to prepare for, has amazing effects. It is has only been used once, and nobody is even sure that is true, since the spell is told to have been used while creating the prophecy for the Three. This spell is used to reveal the true identities of people, such as if they are good or evil, or one of the Three. To properly use this spell, the Speller must do the following:
~ Eat nothing for two days
~ Bathe five times a day in Talia Flower water
~ Commit one evil thing
~ Commit one good thing
It seemed an odd spell to perform and it meant I would have to stay in Lorisol for six days. Five days to prepare, and one to enchant. I couldn’t imagine not eating for two days, or committing an evil thing. It was a dreadful thought, but King Ackador refused to help us any further unless I performed the spell.
“When will she start the preparation?” Loren asked, looking up from the book.
“Tomorrow, at sunrise. I will have guards take her to an old hut near the outskirts of the kingdom. Then, we will have them guard the hut and pass through food after her two day famine,” King Ackador explained. Then he looked at me. “You may explore Lorisol as long as you wish today, but you must be at Perstish’s house by midnight. You must rest for at least two hours before preparing the Believing Spell.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” I curtsied the best I could. I had rarely been made to curtsy since I had been a slave for the majority of my life.
“You are a friend of a friend, therefore call me Ackador,” The Lorisol King muttered, in an annoyed tone. I stifled a giggle. It seemed like King Ackador didn’t like being referred to as royalty.
Loren and I were escorted out of King Ackador’s chambers and led out of the castle. When the doors to the castle were closed, I had to adjust myself back to the busy streets of Lorisol. Unlike the king’s chambers, the streets were extraordinarily loud.
“We have some researching to do, Seraphina,” Loren said, dodging a train of kids skipping down the street.
“For what?” I asked.
“If you are truly the Singer, one of the Three , we need to learn more about your title,” Loren explained. “So we are headed to one of the most famous, oldest libraries of Chrizxta, the Library of Lorisol.”
The closer we got to this legendary library, the more crowded it got. The style of housing and clothing changed noticeably as we neared the Library of Lorisol. The streets became wider and older and the stones duller. The folk that dwelled in this area weren’t average Lorisol people. They were artisans of many trades—painters, sculptors, potters, book binders, quilters and sewers to name a few.
At length Loren and I reached the library. I hadn’t seen a library since the early days of my life when King Lionel was still ruling Iffrar—King Malville had ordered the Iffrarian library to be destroyed when he came into power—but the Lorisol library was nothing compared to the one from my own homeland.
The Library of Lorisol was long and wide and made of white stone. The outside walls were covered in carvings of angels and gods, flowers and the heavens. There was a swirly banner carved into the very center of the wall up high.
Avra ulinkum valenzia verita libraconsis
“What does that say?” I asked, pointing up at the bizarre words.
“Nobody knows. It was carved long, long ago and many architects have studied the words but to no avail. It is a mystery to everyone,” Loren gazed curiously, his brows furrowed, up at the stone banner. “We must not dwell on little things right now, Seraphina. Come; let us go into the library.” Loren excitedly grabbed my arm and we jogged lightly up the stairs. I remarked that each step was engraved with little fat angels and baskets of cloud.
The interior of the library was as incredible as the outer of it. The floors were robed in rich red velvet carpet that shaped your footprint when you walked. The walls had paintings of courtiers and flowers. All around there were floor to ceiling bookshelves full of manuscripts, parchments and books. Workers dressed in crimson tunics were sorting books, helping people or working at tall, narrow wooden desks reserved to sign out any literature.
“Welcome, visitors. If you need any assistance, please feel free to ask one of our workers,” Loren and I were startled as a door greeter welcomed us.
“Thank you,” Loren nodded with a smile at the boy. The greeter seemed younger than us, maybe fourteen. We continued on into the library.
“Now, where shall we start?” Loren thought aloud.
I answered, “Well, we might want to look through transcripts from the early years of Chrizxta.”
“And where would we find those?” grumbled Loren.
“Over where the green bookshelves are,” A worker who had been eavesdropping put in. He pointed to the left, indicating in which direction the green bookshelves would be. “All the way at the end. It is about a twenty minute walk. In case you need me later, I’m Josefe.”
“Thank you, Josefe,” Loren smiled and then patted me lightly on the shoulder, signifying that we were to leave. After Josefe was out of earshot, Loren whispered to me, “Big library.” I giggled.
We passed many lofty bookshelves, each a different colour for a different category. I saw golden shelves, purple shelves, even a rainbow coloured shelf. Then, finally, I saw a few dark green bookshelves a little ways ahead. The shelves seemed as old as the manuscripts they held and nobody—not even a worker—was here.
“Look for something related to the beginning of time or the Tale of Three,” Loren whispered. I don’t think he meant to whisper—this place was a silent, old place and somehow made you whisper. Deep, dark mysteries lurked here and nobody dared to disturb them.
It took us a while to find even one book linked to what we were looking for. Loren used a sliding ladder to scour the top shelves and I stayed on the ground, searching where I could. A lot of parchments were diaries and autobiographies of useless creatures—at least for Loren and me. Eventually, after a couple of hours, Loren came across an old battered manuscript rolled up in a tube. In messy writing, someone had written “Memories from Dawn” on the cylinder.
“I think I’ve found something!” Loren cried, almost tumbling from his position on the ladder. He righted himself quickly and threw down the tube. I caught it easily. “Open it!”
I popped the top of the tube off and gently slid the rolled up parchment into my hands. I was overcome with a sense of amazement, fear and mystification when the ancient script touched my fingers. I sensed the same feeling I had when I stood in front of the Lorisol castle, but this time I stored this feeling away for the mean time. There were others that needed to be done.
“Let me see it,” Loren eyed me suspiciously as he tenderly took the manuscript from my hands. He had sensed the return of my light, golden feeling from before.
The manuscript turned out to be almost illegible for the writing was smudged and faded from years of being ignored. Parts of the parchment were completely missing so whole paragraphs were gone. Rips frequented the sides of the pages and ink spots from previous researching dotted here and there.
“What a mess! This will be no use at all!” Loren cried in frustration.
“Don’t give up already, Loren. There may be something here,” And as I said that, my eyesight started to fade. I shook my head back and forth to escape the darkness that was creeping over my eyes. Then I realised it wasn’t darkness, but light. The colour in front of me was golden and sparkling—like my reaction from in front of the castle. Suddenly, the light disappeared and I was left looking at a worried Loren in my face.
“Are you okay? You suddenly fell into some sort of trance,” Loren said.
“I’m fine.”
*
Just outside of Lorisol, a shadow crept around the kingdom’s walls. It was dusk out and every time the sky darkened, the night-spirit became more visible. The evil creature floated close to the wall, touching it with his wispy fingertips. He could sense that the girl and the knight were in the kingdom somewhere, and he wouldn’t let them leave it. He had vowed to his master that no matter how much destruction he left in his wake, the girl and the knight would return virtually unharmed. The last time, the night-spirit’s victims had got away, but he wouldn’t let them this time. If this shadow creature had to burn the whole kingdom Lorisol to the ground to capture these two, he wouldn’t hesitate.
A silent howl behind the night-spirit made him twist around, ready to attack, but only saw his fellow night-spirits coming to join him. Their cries could not be heard by anyone living with a good heart, but those who did hear were enveloped in a mixed feeling of joy and terror.
“Do not hesitate to kill everyone who blocks your passage. Kill them all. Leave no mercy!” The night-spirit against the wall said to his small army. In reply, his night-spirit soldiers raised their left arms in salute and headed through the wall in front of them.
*
“I can read the manuscript now.” I told Loren.
“What?”
“You know what I said! I can read it!”
“Then...tell me what it says!”
I lifted the roll of parchment and flattened it against a wooden desk. I began reading at the top, every letter glowing in an eerie gold light.
“I write this to the people of the future, those curious about what the beginning of time was like. I talk here about those Three Chosen and evils and goods. I—” I stopped reading as a red-clad, red-cheeked worker came around the corner.
“Miss! Sir! King Ackador and the Lorisol knights have ordered an evacuation to the tunnels. We are under a surprise attack from the night-spirits, by the command of the Evil Ruler!” The worker cried. His eyes bulged in fright and his hands waved frantically, trying to beckon us out of the library. I looked over at Loren who was frozen, looking at the worker.
“Thank you, we shall be out very soon,” Loren said calmly, as if the worker had just announced the daily closing of the library. The worker frowned at Loren, perplexed by his composure, and jumped away like a rabbit.
“We shall bring this with us. We will need to read it before long, but time is cut short now,” Loren rolled the parchment back into the tube and tucked it under his arm. “Do you know where to go?” I shook my head. I had no idea where the tunnels were.
“Follow me, then.” Loren ran past the green shelves and turned the corner into the main aisle. Everything was deserted. Abandoned writing tools lay on desks, books lay open and chairs were empty. The whole library was quiet.
“It must be a serious attack if everyone left so quickly!” I observed. Loren nodded, clearly too concentrated to give a spoken one. We burst out onto the street, unfortunate that the doors closed behind us loudly, echoing in the square. We waited with baited breath for a night-spirit or two to come galumphing down the road, anger and all. Nothing happened.
“That was close!” But I had spoken too soon. Within seconds I heard a yell from Loren, and, as I turned toward him, I was pulled back by clammy hands. I saw Loren being pulled by two night-spirits the opposite direction. By the ease that they pulled him, I could tell that Loren was unconscious. My neck started to clog with terrible fumes and the shadow creatures surrounding me stunk of foul cheese and eggs. I shook, trying to knock the wispy hands and arms pulling me back, but I did not succeed. Then, from behind me, I heard someone speak, a cold, merciless voice.
“Stop.”
