Only Skeletons Remain

Chapter 23: The New Lorekeeper

2007

The grand hall of the High Tower was eerily silent as Javier stood before the council. The air was thick with the weight of expectation. The bishops, looming in their twisted forms, watched him with cold eyes. Behind their feathered and furred faces, there was no sympathy, no understanding—just calculation. Zareth had died weeks before during the Bandito siege on the outskirts of DEMA, and now the city needed a new Lorekeeper. Javier had been chosen, not for his willingness but because the bishops believed he could be shaped.

The High Tower's lights flickered as Lisden stepped forward. His voice was low, reverberating through the hall like the growl of a beast about to pounce.

"Zareth is gone. The Lorekeeper's mantle is vacant, and with it, the balance of DEMA teeters on the edge of chaos. Javier, son of the archive, you are to be the next Lorekeeper. You will protect the truths we hold sacred, as Zareth did before you. Do you accept this burden?"

Javier's heart pounded in his chest. He knew Zareth had resisted in his final days, had questioned the bishops' control, and in the end, it had cost him his life. The weight of what he was about to inherit felt like a shackle. But refusal wasn't an option. Not here. Not now. Not when his wife was pregnant with his children.

"I accept," he said, his voice calm despite the turmoil inside.

Lisden nodded, the faintest hint of approval in his gaze, though it was more a satisfaction that the ceremony could continue. "Then it is done. You will serve DEMA as its guardian of knowledge. Betray that knowledge, and the fate that met Zareth will be a mercy compared to what will come to you."

As Lisden stepped back, Javier felt the ceremonial cloak of the Lorekeeper being draped over his shoulders. It was heavy, both literally and figuratively. The fabric was embroidered with symbols of DEMA's history—its rise, its secrets, and its power.

"You will know all, Javier," said Sacarver, the wolf-like bishop with a voice that rasped like steel on stone. "And with that knowledge comes great responsibility."

Javier nodded, keeping his face composed. His mind, however, was already racing. He had heard whispers of what Zareth had uncovered, the truths that had made him question his loyalty to the bishops. Those whispers had drawn Javier closer to the Banditos' cause, though silently, in the shadows of his thoughts.

The council dispersed, leaving him alone in the grand hall. Javier stood still for a moment, staring at the vast space, the murals of DEMA's history adorning the walls. His hands clenched at his sides. Zareth had been right to question them. And now, as the new Lorekeeper, Javier would uncover the very truths that had cost Zareth his life.

He was excused, and he turned, beginning to make his way back to the library. Javier moved silently through the aisles, his mind swirling with thoughts of the future, of the unborn children, and of the risks he was about to take. He and María were young to be having children, only being 20 and 18 respectively, but he didn't regret it. His hand traced the familiar symbols etched into the dark wood of the table at the center of the library—the one where he had spent countless nights poring over the histories of DEMA, of the Ancestors, and the bishops.

In the far corner of the library, María sat, her hand resting gently on her swollen belly. She was reading, though her eyes seemed unfocused, lost in thought. The soft light of a nearby candle flickered over her dark hair, casting a warm glow around her. Her expression was serene, but there was an undercurrent of worry in the way she held herself. Javier approached quietly, not wanting to startle her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly as he knelt beside her chair, his hand brushing against hers.

María smiled gently, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of love and uncertainty. "Tired, but... hopeful. They're restless tonight. Harper, especially. It's like she's already preparing to take on the world."

Javier chuckled softly, resting his hand over María's. He could feel the faint kicks beneath her skin—Harper and Liam, their twins, already full of life before they had even entered the world. "That sounds like Harper," he said, though neither of them had met their daughter yet. It was as if they already knew their children intimately, as though destiny had shaped them before birth.

María's smile faded, her brow furrowing. "Do you really think it's safe? Bringing them to the Cave of the Ancestors? What if they... sense them?"

Javier exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting toward the towering shelves of books surrounding them, as though the ancient knowledge stored there could provide an answer. "I've thought about it a lot. But the Ancestors... they offer more than just history, María. They offer protection, gifts that could save them from the bishops' grasp. If we wait too long, they'll be watched too closely, even from the moment they're born."

"The bishops will want to know everything about them," María whispered, fear lacing her words. "Especially after what Zareth discovered before he was killed. They know more than they're letting on, Javi. They always do."

He nodded, his jaw tightening. Zareth had died for seeking answers—truths about DEMA and its manipulation of the people within its walls. Javier had taken his place, but he was far from blind to the dangers they now faced. The bishops were always watching, always waiting for signs of rebellion.

"That's why we have to move quickly," Javier said, his voice low. "The Cave of the Ancestors is the only place they won't be able to reach us. Once the babies are born, we'll take them there. They need the protection the Ancestors can offer—their gifts. It's the only way to keep them safe from DEMA."

María's hand trembled slightly under his, but she nodded. "If the Ancestors truly protect them, then we have no choice. But I worry... I worry about what they'll ask in return."

Javier sighed, knowing full well that nothing came without a price—not even from the Ancestors. "I'll deal with whatever price they demand. I won't let anything happen to our children."

They sat in silence for a moment, their fears weighing heavily between them. Javier rested his hand on María's stomach again, feeling the gentle movements of their unborn twins—Harper, fierce and full of spirit, and Liam, calm and steady, even before birth. These children were their hope, their future.

"I'll speak to the Ancestors when the time comes," Javier whispered, leaning down to kiss María's forehead. "And I'll make sure Harper and Liam are protected, no matter what."

As he stood to leave, María caught his hand, her gaze intense. "Promise me, Javier. Promise me you won't lose yourself in this fight. We need you. Our children need you."

Javier squeezed her hand tightly, his heart heavy but determined. "I promise."