Fight or Flight

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I thought I'd kept catching Finnian glancing at me as we strode through the city, but whenever I turned to meet his eyes, he was looking at the ground.

The Nexus of Echoes loomed before us, a colossal monument to knowledge and history. Its towering spires and grand arches above our heads seemed to defy the laws of gravity, reaching towards the heavens like outstretched fingers. I could almost picture myself soaring on the wind, weaving among them, my feathers outstretched in flight.

The building itself was carved from luminous white stone that shimmered in the morning light, as if imbued with an otherworldly essence. Intricate engravings adorned the wooden front door. Hundreds of faces, I realized, each pressed cheek-to-cheek and chin-to-forehead, each facing me with a gaping mouth screaming silence. I recognized some of the faces; though mostly human, I also spotted crystallines, nocturnes, and umbrans. Among the few that were visible at the top, though, I could make out the intricate form of feathers.

"Finnian, there are avians carved up there." I had to manually swallow. If they had been etched into the front door of the largest library in the region, were the avians of Riem really so hated by Errals?

I surveyed the hollow faces of the sculpted door as Finnian's weighted hand pressed into the wood. The mighty door's hinges whined with the weight of centuries as we entered and the moment we stepped inside, a hush fell over us. It was as if the very air itself demanded silence in the presence of such a sacred place.

The interior was just as breathtaking as the facade. Soaring ceilings held aloft by columns stretched as far as the eye could see. Rays of sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the polished wood floors. The scent of aged parchment and leather bound books permeated the air, a testament to the countless tomes housed within these walls.

Everywhere I looked, scholars and students bustled about, their pale faces buried in ancient texts or engaged in hushed conversations, long untouched by sun. Some, Finnian pointed out, wore the traditional robes of the Erralian academies, while others donned the garb of far-flung lands, drawn to the Nexus by its reputation as a repository of all the world's knowledge. I realized how out of place we both looked, especially Finnian with his dark, leather garb and sun-kissed skin.

We made our way through the cavernous foyer, our footsteps echoing softly. We passed towering shelves lined with books of every size and color, their spines bearing titles in languages I couldn't even begin to decipher.

Every so often, we'd come across a reading nook tucked away between the stacks, outfitted with dusty armchairs and ornate reading desks. In one such alcove, a dwarven scholar with a long white beard pored over a tome, his weathered hands turning the fragile pages with the utmost care.

Finally, we arrived at the heart - a vast, circle chamber carved with a domed ceiling that was painted to look like the night sky. In the center of the room stood a massive marble statue of a broad, beautiful human woman. Her arms were held outstretched in welcome and long hair cascaded down her shoulders.

"The Queen of Errals," Finnian nodded in response to my cocked head. "Responsible for the upkeep of the Nexus."

"She has fabulous taste," I breathed, recalling the entirety of my walk among the shelves.

Finnian led me to one of the many desks arranged around the perimeter of the room, where a Nocturne librarian sat surrounded by stacks of books and scrolls. She looked up from a decaying tome she had lain wide on the counter before her as we approached, her shrewd eyes sizing us up from behind wire-rimmed spectacles.

"How may I assist you today?" she asked, her voice as dry and brittle as the pages she was turning. The wings on her back looked shriveled and unused which left me wondering if she was even still capable of flight.