The Colorless Land

Chapter 36: Unlocking the Past

Saryana stooped over her notes, going through them again and again. Each time her expression grew more and more incredulous, more and more baffled.

They were standing between dictionaries and old scrolls, books and papers and parchments piling up around them. Dust was heavy in the warm, dry air, but at this moment all of them felt as if they had been thrown face-first into icy cold water.

"You go over it again," Saryana said, shoving the notes over to Aithal. "There has to be a mistake in here somewhere."

Aithal swallowed. "I don't think so. But Evariel, you look."

The elf was pale. "Why me?"

"You're best with languages. And also the oldest, now that...that Lisha..." Aithal trailed off. "Would that she still were here," he muttered. "Someone needs to check this. We need to be absolutely sure there is no mistake."

Evariel bent over the notes, scrutinizing every word. Then, very slowly, he shook his head.

"No mistake," he said, his voice quiet and raspy. "You definitely read it right."

So this was it.

They had found their answer, but it only left them with even more questions.

~ ~ ~

Everything had started a few hours earlier when the six of them had set out for the archive.

It had only been a short walk through the busy streets of the city. They had rounded a few corners, and then suddenly they had found themselves on a wide road running along the coast, flanked by palm trees and oleander, the deep blue waves of the ocean crashing against the edge. The cries of seagulls filled the air. On each side traders from every country of the world sold their goods in shops and stalls.

Weaving through the colorful crowd, they had followed the road to the harbor, a giant maze of quays and docks where everything was tied from small fisher-boats to huge trade ships from other continents. A million flags were waving in the wind. Seafarers chatted with young traders with packs on their shoulders, hoping to find work on one of the ships.

"The place we're looking for," said Saryana, "is over there."

Jolette followed her pointed finger with her gaze. Standing beyond the harbor was a many-pillared building. It looked well-maintained but very old, decorated with carvings of different-colored marble and bright metal displaying countless images that seemed to tell stories. All around it were smaller, newer buildings in the same style, as if it had been expanded countless times over the years. The entrance was flanked by Jadirian soldiers, but they made no effort stopping anyone going in or out.

"Anyone can access the archive," Saryana explained. "The guards are just there to make sure nobody steals anything or carries anything that could damage the books."

Jolette eyed her in amazement. "So everybody here can read?"

"Of course," Saryana said like she had asked a very stupid question. "Are you saying you can't?"

"No? Do I look like I can afford a teacher?"

"Right," Aithal remarked, laughing, "you don't have public schools yet. Someone truly ought to suggest the idea to King Kelmond."

Jolette felt very stupid all of a sudden. She wondered if there was even a point to her coming along here. She certainly wouldn't be of much use when it came to searching the archives.

"I can't read either," Edmian remarked. "Few of us can. They only teach you at fifteen, after they've determined your path, if it's useful for it."