The Catalyst

Isilme Duskmere - A Gift of Bitter Wine

 Isilme's step was light as she entered the library, yet the librarian still heard her.

"Greetings, Isilme," came the calm, smooth voice of the golden-haired male. He appeared beside her almost like magic, silence marking his footfalls.

"Well met, Zlatho." She replied, a joyful smile on her lips. Despite being in the city, the library was always quiet, rarely busy when she came. By contrast, the Librarian was ever present and  helpful. If she was honest, Zlatho was the reason she continued to return to this place. She had long ago read everything of interest concerning dragons, yet Zlatho had seen some in person. His stories and conversation were endless, causing the girl to spend many more hours within the tall walls than she would have thought possible otherwise. His golden eyes regarded her for a moment as he thought.

"If memory serves me correctly, today marks the beginning of your 115th year." He stated, a smile quirking his lips as he spoke.

"Your mind is as sharp as ever," she responded, smiling in return, "You remember correctly, Bookkeeper."

Zlatho chuckled at the young woman, barely a handful of years into her adulthood. "Did you truly come to spend your day with me in this dark hall rather than in a tavern full of wine?"

"There's wine there, yes, but also gambling and drunkards who have more appalling manners than the beasts of the forest." She laughed, brushing away a strand of golden hair that had fallen over her shoulders, the points of her ears marking the girl as an elf "No, I would rather spend the day here in conversation with you. It was either you or the forests, and O'Su insisted that I perhaps spend the day in a form of civilization."

"In that case, I am honored you chose me," Zlatho said, his feet carrying him towards the back room where the two usually resided during their conversations. "I know how hard it is to pull someone called to nature away from its beauty." 

Isilme followed, a grin coming to her "It is. O'Si promised to go hunting with me tomorrow, if I remained in town today." She giggled "O'Su knows he cannot keep me from the forests altogether. I suppose he'd prefer that I go to a tavern, or find a soulmate." Vivid blue eyes casually scanning the shelves and bindings of the books they passed, recognizing a few from her time reading them.

"Is love not what every young person dreams of finding? For some, it is stronger than magic, I've heard." Zlatho asked, motioning for her to sit in the well kept armchairs meant for reading. 

"It is." She relented, curling up in the chair, "And its not that I don't want to find someone, but--" 

"No one here interests you?" Zlatho finished, taking a seat across from her. "I find it hard to believe that there's not at least a single male in town who would make a good love for you." She asked. 

She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders "I'm not drawn to any of them. I've received plenty of offers - as has O'Su - of others asking for permission to court me. None of them... None of them see me. They see beauty. It's not hard to say that I wish for more..." 

Zlatho nodded in understanding. "It is not an extreme wish. All wish to be seen or loved for who they are inside, not the beauty they have, nor the titles they hold." A playful grin quirked his lips, "One would almost guess you rejected others because you held feelings for me." he teased. 

Her blue eyes widened in surprise before she laughed, shaking her head vigorously. "Hardly!  I respect you, quite highly, in fact. You are like a mentor to me, as well as my friend. My feelings do not extend beyond that, though." 

Zlatho simply smiled at her reaction before changing the subject.

The following hours were spent in the back of the library, lost in conversation with the golden-eyed Librarian. Every now and again the moment was broken by someone wandering in after a book, to which Zlatho would help them before returning to her.

As the sun began to lower into the horizon, Zlatho returned from assisting a final patron, however, this time he held an ornate wine bottle and two delicate glasses.

Isilme laughed lightly "Do you mean to intoxicate me before sending me on my way?" she teased.

"Not at all. I simply realized we have been speaking at length and have had no refreshments. This is my attempt to remedy said err, and to celebrate this day for you." He replied, handing her one of the fragile cups. The smell of warm spices filled the air as he pulled the stopper from the bottle. Filling her glass first, Zlatho watched her for a moment as she inhaled the scent of the wine.

Isilme felt her friend's eyes on her as she took her first drink. The spices were pleasant, lending the warmth that humans would associate with winter. The flavors shifted as she swallowed, and the pleasant spices were overruled by a sharp metallic taste, making her grimace.

Zlatho watched her with keen eyes as she did so, his own drink untouched as he swirled it about within the glass.

There was silence between them for a moment, expectant, and weighed with importance.

"The aftertaste is... questionable, though the flavor is excellent otherwise." She ventured, feeling as if this moment was important somehow.

The tall librarian kept his gaze on her in a way that he hadn't since her first days in the library. When she had first come in search of tomes of Dragons he had regarded her the same way, as if her actions were somehow important... as if they were somehow personal to him.

Then the moment was broken. Zlatho smiled at her, still swirling his own wine as he spoke again. "My apologies about the aftertaste. It is a side effect of this particular ones fermenting process, I'm afraid."

It was Isilme's turn to regard the male with a focused look, blue eyes searching his face. Not for the first time she wondered about him. He had been at the library since she was young, had known her name as a child, and yet hadn't aged a day in over 80 years. As near as she had ever been able to tell, his ears were rounded like a human, yet he seemed different from them. Perhaps he was some manner of sorcerer who had kept himself young through magic? It was the only -reasonable- theory she had to work with.

Resigning herself to the idea she might never know -as he changed the subject when asked- Isilme took another drink, determined to finish the wine, bitter taste and all.

The rest of the visit passed in simple conversation, the colors of sunset painting through the high windows and casting long shadows. Neither of them seemed to notice, their gazes adjusting to the dark as if it was nothing.

At long last, Isilme rose to return home, the light of the moon now the sole source of illumination in the room.

"Farewell, Isilme," Zlatho said, escorting her to the front door. "Though bitter in flavor, my gift for you this day was the wine. As you grow in skill as a hunter, follow nature and the gift of this wine may bring you to a future you'd not expect."

Isilme stared at him, confusion written on her face. "Ever you speak in riddles, friend, yet this one makes less sense than your normal ones."

Zlatho simply smiled, "There is meaning in everything. One day, you'll know the meaning of what I say."

"If you say so," She replied curiously, not seeming too convinced. As she drifted through the streets on her way home, she mulled the words over, committing them to memory. In the end, the only thing she could think of was that the wine had been magical in some way, yet it had caused no effects besides the aftertaste.

"I guess I'll just need to do as he said. He's not been wrong yet." She mused, stepping foot inside the home that she loved.