Gate of Containment

Chapter Three - Conversation

I jolted awake. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face, and I reached up to push away the baby hairs that stuck to the slick on my forehead. Burning hot sweat that sizzled off the heat of my hand. In my nightmarish delirium, I looked around. The twin windows facing me glared bright new sun into my eyes.

I had fallen asleep reading, tucked tightly into the nook of the chair I sat in. The book I'd chosen laid open on the floor. As I looked down, an illustration of my great-grandfather was illuminated by the dawn. His arms sprawled to either side, face beaming with a sense of mischievous evil as a floating pair of hands placed a crown upon his head. I leaned down to grab it, reading the small piece of text below the image.

"The Crowning Vaeril Tassarion." I rolled the words off my tongue. I let myself wander to the next page, handwritten words glaring back into my soul. "It is my greatest joy to report a new Age of Power in the lands of Winbow. I have completed the journey to -" A flush of golden entered the room in a flash. I peered over my shoulder in an instant, slamming the book in my hands shut.

"Reading something I'm not supposed to know about, Princess?" I'm sure a mortified look came across my already flushed face, as the man let out a chipper laugh.

"Bounds no!" I gasped, flashing him the cover of the old leatherbound book. "History, if you really want to know, Inalios. Something I'm sure you lack the knowledge in." I rolled my eyes.

Inalios stiffened for a second, tightening his lips. He lifted a rugged hand, rubbing them against the tight coils that graced his head. "It depends on what kind of history you're looking for, I suppose." Iron met iron as his hand fell, and he wandered to the chair opposite of mine. "That is, if you're willing to ask me in the first place." Two loud thuds occurred, a finely sheathed sword hitting the ground, and the Found Constable hitting the seat. He sighed.

"It's about, well, my Great-Grandfather." I felt his eyes move over me as I opened the book once more. And again, he stiffened. The anxious energy wafted off him like the stink of fresh sulfur. "I was thinking about the document Myshallah read last night. But with the state of things, and Mother storming out, there wasn't much room for questions." I found the page with the illustration. "They called him -" Inalios held up a hand to interrupt. A knack only he could use, for his voice was too inviting to speak over.

"The First Boundless King." A chord stuck inside me. Boundless? "And from what I hear, a truly wicked man. Born to commit only evils - as if his Balance was cursed from the very beginning. You know the tales, Eradia." His shortness surprised me. It seemed this week was full of surprises.

"Yes, Inalios, but I . . . I can't help but wonder. Marcia hasn't spoken a word to me about her time serving Vaeril or Amaranthar. What record can she set straight that her written words already haven't?" I recalled the comment my father had made during Myshallah's reading, his sudden panic forcing my mind to wander. "I did try to ask, after everyone's dismissal. But she filled me with wine and conversation until I forced myself here."

"No wonder you look so rough." I flared my nostrils. He smirked. "No need for hostility. You've already got my attention, as do you always." The flush that had faded from my cheeks dared to creep back as he spoke. "But unlike Marcia, I will choose not to waste your time. There is little I know about the written documents, as spoken word has always treated me fair. The rumors I hear are the types that people do not dare to mark." His words were heavy with warning. "The answers you seek do not lie within the confines of this library. Nor are they to be spoken by the likes of me."

I sat with his words for the next few minutes, sitting in the uncomfortable silence as the sun bathed us in its morning glow.

"You could try Myshallah." He suggested with a shrug, dark brown eyes shut as his head relaxed on the chair. The tall man extended awkwardly in a less than comfortable looking position. "She's a bit of a stickler, though. Unlike someone I know." I laughed, a wordless agreement to his jab at Marcia. Even with my favor towards her, sometimes it felt good to chuckle at her ever-so-elvish mistakes. "She's got a knack for the unknown, if you are still unsure." He winked at me.