Buried Deep

Part 1: Findings

I remember the days when everything was fine enough that I had no worries. When I still lived in solitude, with my father, the mountains, and the water to guard my fears and nightmares from ever reaching me. A life I lead with the sun's rays warming my skin, and the trees' gentle shade to shelter me from the blistering heat. It was when the oceans and lakes were plentiful, providing my small, two-person family with food and coin. I can see the small hut I lived in with my father. It was made oak wood, and I lived in that hut. The fishing poles and nets were stored in one corner, leaning up against the wall, which was put together by my father's skillful hands. There was a fire in the middle of our hut. Two sleeping bags-one for my father, and one for me-were curled around it. They were not like that all that time ago. Someone had moved them to huddle next to the fire. In a tropical landscape, someone had moved sleeping bags to keep warm. I had moved them when the ice came. The bitter, bitter ice.

For most of my childhood, I had lived in a place that was always warm. We were not prepared for the ice to come. No one was. But my father knew something was coming. I could see it in his eyes. I could see it in the way he approached every day, ready and waiting for what was to come. During those days, all but the gleam I saw in his eyes was perfectly normal. But how would I know? All I knew was that my father went downstream to catch fish everyday, and sell most of them at the market. Until he showed me some of the most incredible things. It was a day like the other ones. I woke up to the gentle lapping of the ocean, got ready for a day of exploring the lakes and oak forests surrounding the hut. Quietly, my father motioned for me to follow him. We had walked for about a mile, both of us not daring to talk. At the time, I did not know why I was to be so quiet. It is obvious to me now. Then, we stopped at a towering oak tree. A perfect signal of where something powerful might be kept. Hidden in plain sight. My father swept away the leaves and twigs that dotted the forest floor to reveal a trapdoor, leading downwards. The door made a slight creaking noise as he opened it, and we climbed inside as quiet as torch is blown out. I stood speechless at what lay before me. It was an abandoned cave, with a few containing beautifully accurate maps of buildings so large it took multiple pieces of parchment to draw them. What is this? I wondered. What has my father created, and what is he trying to do?

"It's a room of maps, Cassi." My father answered, as if he could read my mind.

"Yes, I can see that. But what types of maps, and where do they lead to?" I said, confused and also quite surprised. My father was just a fisherman, or that's what he told me.

"These maps are all of a wonderful place. A great library, filled with ancient magic and secrets. Things people here could never dream of, nor understand. But despite the fact that it will be strange, and quite terrifying to some, we will need this magic soon."

"Why?" I interjected, "Why do we need magic?" Does it have to do with the gleam in his eyes I've been noticing? My father stayed quiet, as if he was silently pondering over if he should tell me what he was hiding.

"You see, these aren't all maps. " My father finally said, preoccupied with rifling through stacks upon stacks of parchment. "Some are scrolls, collected from soothsayers, abandoned houses, caves far underground, and ancient temples. The most valuable scroll I've found is one titled 'The Prophecy of the Library." he held up a faded piece of parchment, and continued to explain. "It took a while to restore and understand, I think I've finally grasped what it means."

"That's great, but how did you learn how to do all this archaeologist stuff? Everyone thinks you are just a fisherman." I ask my father, wanting to know more of what he has kept from me, and slightly agitated that he kept secrets from me in the first place. We had both lost someone in that storm. He had lost a soul mate, I had lost a mother. I deserved complete honesty, and no secrets. We were in this together.