Book 1: Youth of Delarn

Chapter 16: Mentoring

The next day, she went to the library earlier than usual. He wouldn't stop asking her stupid questions and pointing out that her face was red or mentioning how she wasn't eating.

"I hope you're not thinking of someone," her stepmother teased. "You're much too young for that sort of thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, and the woman laughed. Delarn only felt angrier when she realized she only liked her stepmother when she was in a foul mood.

"I'm going to bed," she said, getting up from the table. The strange being they called a dad hummed ominously from the other side of the table.

She felt annoyed with herself for losing her temper. She had such a short fuse lately. She was immersed in the book she was reading by the time the head librarian came in that morning. The book she was about magical theory and the different ways magic manifested. She liked learning about battle tactics more, but thought maybe it would be useful. It would be good to be prepared for someone who did.

The theory was written in complicated language, and it frustrated her. Maybe it was because she was behind the others in reading comprehension.

She was still on edge. She had entered cautiously, prepared for someone to be waiting, but the scent was stagnant, which meant no one was there all night. She took it as a good sign. Few people could hide their scent and most wouldn't know they needed to. It had gotten her interested in this book. She knew the spell to hide the scent of the sewer was a basic one, and thought if someone wanted to hide from her—if they theoretically knew—they could use that spell. She wanted to understand how to counter it.

The longer she tried to decipher the text, the more her head hurt. She took a break and listened to the head librarian to see if he did anything different today. She didn't show up this early often, but often enough to know his routine. He would check the vaults and cases with the ancient texts that were too brittle for open air. His desk would be messy and disorganized by the end of the day, so he always fixed it in the morning. She didn't know what this looked like, but it was ordered. She'd hear him talking to himself and humming. This morning he wasn't doing either.

After, he sat down and worked at his desk. She heard him murmuring to himself as he got into it, so everything was fine, and she returned to trying to read. She wondered if she talked to herself or made quiet sounds like he did, but doubted it. They would have discovered her sooner if she did. She couldn't focus after the thought came to mind. She was thinking too hard about breathing.

His apprentice came in later. Delarn paused and started listening again. She tried to recall her name. Nuldine. She could now match her with what she looked like. She had a good idea of what she probably looked like before, but now she couldn't imagine her as anything other than soft brown eyes, a narrow face and long brown hair. She had it combed so neatly, and Delarn put the book down to mess fussily with her hair. Her hair wasn't necessarily bad. She liked the dark red color, and it was manageable enough. It wasn't too long, but on some days it was more unruly than others, and today it felt especially wild. She liked when she caught her reflection in shop windows and it looked wavy.

It wasn't as if she could spend all her time working in a library. She scoffed softly to herself and then covered her mouth, remembering what she was thinking earlier about making sounds while she was reading.

She noticed something else important. Typically, when the librarian's apprentice arrived, they would exchange pleasantries and speak softly with each other. Sometimes he would quiz her about the library and other times it would just be talking, but she couldn't remember a time when they skipped that. At the very least, she expected them to exchange greetings.