Esprit Abbey

Chapter 15

Mother Isa listened to the chimes of the tall grandfather clock that nobly stood by the wall just to the left of her bed. She watched the golden pendulums swing back and forth just inside its frame, reflecting the moonlight provided by the window on the other side of her room, as they momentarily moved out of the shadows. The informative hands displayed on its regal face declared it to be one in the morning.

She lifted the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, then pulled on soft rawhide shoes with cotton interiors. She rubbed her arms briefly before pulling a weathered crochet robe from her freestanding wardrobe. Many of the stitches had become loose and separated, while in several areas the dark brown coloring had faded to a pale beige. Pulling it on, she quickly tied the belt that was conveniently pre-attached.

Lighting the lantern that she kept on a small table by the door, she twisted the nob keeping the flame small, with only enough light to guide her. She opened her door just wide enough to peek down the hallway. Listening, she could only hear silence and was unable to observe any notable movement. She opened the door wider, slipped through, and closed it quietly behind her.

Moving slowly down the hall, she tread softly, hoping to avoid any squeaking floorboards that could potentially arouse any of the sleeping residents and guests. She made her way to the library and checked her surroundings again before fully committing to enter. The hinges whined as she slowly closed the door behind her. After the latch clicked, she moved through the library lighting the lanterns to fully illuminate the room.

She circled the library, studying the books on the top shelves, looking for any titles that could substantiate Denryx's claims. Part of her hoped she wouldn't find any so she could rest comfortably, confident that all she believes is true, but something in her gut told her his insinuations needed to be investigated.

Most of the books were caked in dust and cobwebs indicating that they haven't been touched or likely even thought about in many years. She noticed one area that had obviously been disturbed. Small handprints were present in the dust and the cobwebs had been brushed away, giving it an unnatural cleanliness that was clearly out of place in what had almost become commonplace grime.

Mother Isa immediately knew that Chandler was the culprit for this odious degradation of filth; however, she wished he were present to share with her what he had learned. She began to envy his convictions of curiosity and constant pursuit of knowledge, while silently scolding herself for not encouraging and supporting his drive and aspirations.

She skimmed the titles in the area Chandler had explored, most of which seemed to be about forgotten talents and abilities. Deciding that this is not what she was looking for, she continued down the shelf, continuously screening the titles and subject matter. At last she came to an unusually large book that simply said 'Origin'. Utilizing a small stepping stool, she reached up and collected the book, shaking her hand when a nearly invisible web attached itself to her fingers. Using her hand, she wiped away the thick layer of dust that hid the cover of the book from view and made her way to the large chair and table that Chandler had so frequently occupied.

Sitting down, she set the book on the table and was forced to use the sleeve of her robe to clean off the rest of the cover. She was surprised to see that the cover was very similar to the mural in the great hall, with only a few differences; the dragons were very much alive and soaring through the air, instead of calmly sitting below as crystals, they looked enraged and menacing; Maravan had his sword held high in the air and appeared to be shrieking; the Abbey wasn't present, but Mother Isa could easily recognize the location based on the mountain formations in the background.