Burning Wildfires (Abandoned)

~5~

Aelin walked down a marble hall, her dress flowing behind in a purple and white wave. Chaol strode beside her, a hand on the eagle-shaped pommel of his sword. She sighed wondering when she would reach the library. Turning to Chaol she asked, "Is there anything interesting down this hall?"
"What else would you care to see? We've already seen all three gardens, the ballrooms, the historical rooms, and the nicest views offered from the stone castle. If you refuse to go into the glass castle, there's nothing else to see."
The young queen pouted. "I refuse to go into the glass castle, because unlike several nobles around here, I do not wish to accidently fall to my death, even if the castle is magically enhanced."
The Captain tensed at the word 'magic' and she rolled her eyes. She had somehow managed to wrangle a tour out of him again, and was thoroughly enjoying riling him up with her remarks.
Chaol sighed. "There's no difference between the interiors of the two castles, you wouldn't even notice it unless someone pointed it out to you, or you looked out the window."
"Like I said, only an idiot would walk in a house made of glass."
"It's as sturdy as steel and stone."
"Yes, until someone just a bit too heavy enters and it comes crashing down."
"That's impossible." "Nothing is impossible."

Chaol just growled under his breath and she smirked. "Is there no menagerie or library that we could see?", just as they passed the doors of what Aelin remembered to be the Queen's Court. Lilting voices and music came through the thick door. 
They went past the court and Aelin continued grilling Chaol about a library. An explosion sounded nearby and the fire-user clenched her teeth when she realized that it was the clock tower, the same tower that held her back from her fae heritage and her fire magic. 

"What is that awful noise?" Aelin asked, hands over her ears. The captain led her through a set of glass doors, and he pointed up as they entered into a garden. "The clock tower," he said, his bronze eyes shining with amusement, as the clock finished its war cry.

The Ashryvver-Galathynius sighed as she looked up to see an inky black tower, with two gargoyles in shape of a wyvern, its wings spread as if in flight, on each side of the four-faced clock. The numbers were drawn on in war paint, sword-like handles moving on the pearly white clock face. Aelin shivered, the tower affecting her. She distantly heard, her companion say something about the tower being built around the time of Dorian's birth, but that all faded away when she noticed the same Wyrdmark as before. She did not recognize it and it was not a witch or fae symbol. She had questioned both the Cadre and Manon about it. 

The symbol was white, which reminded her of Rowan, and that sent a stab of pain through her, which she quickly ignored. Now was not the time for this. She saw the gargoyle was pointing at the symbol again and dragged Chaol along to search for more, ignoring his protests.

The search yielded nothing and she groaned. The Captain frowned at her and tugged at her arm, continuing the tour. She couldn't shake the feeling of the gargoyle's eyes following her though.

They continued past the kitchen quarters, which were a mess of shouting, clouds of flour, and surging fires. Once beyond, they entered a long hallway, empty and silent save for their footsteps. Aelin smiles lightly when she remembered the dark and quiet library she had spent so long in, reading and studying. It was exactly how she remembered, the twenty-foot oak doors, with dragons that grew out of either side of the stone wall. Four-legged dragons—not vicious, bipedal wyverns like those on the royal seal.
"What room is that?", she breathed out, keeping up the act.
"The library."
"Can we go in?", she asked, eyes leaving no room for disagreement.

The Captain of the Guard opened the doors reluctantly, the strong muscles of his back shifting as he pushed hard against the worn oak. Compared to the sunlit hallway, the interior that stretched beyond them seemed formidably dark, but as she stepped inside, candelabras came into view, along with black-and-white marble floors, large mahogany tables with red velvet chairs, a slumbering fire, mezzanines, bridges, ladders, railings, and then books—books and books and books.
Aelin felt like she had died and gone to heaven, where heaven was entirely made of paper and leather. She was going to ask Dorian that if she ever had to be locked up, lock her in here, she would never escape. 

"How many books are in here? I would say about a million, given the size."
"Well the last time anyone counted, it was."
Aelin felt a true smile spread across her face. She couldn't wait to start reading every single book in here, competition be damned.

"Well you have to take part in the competition, if you want your freedom. And I didn't know assassins liked to read."
Aelin raised an eyebrow. "You mean you don't? And you should get some guards stationed here, knowledge is a dangerous weapon." She ran her fingers along the spines to the books, the feel rough leather, jewels of knowledge written on soft pages. She recognized some of the titles, but the rest were unknown. 

Chaol called after her as she walked along shelves full of dusty books.  "You said you were from Terrasen; did you ever visit the Great Library of Orynth? They say it's twice the size of this—and that it used to hold all the knowledge of the world."
She paused, memories of a polished library, filled with thick books, that had the knowledge of the world written on them, her mother's voice teaching her how to read, then later schooling her.
"Yes", was her answer. When I was very young. Though they wouldn't let me explore—the Master Scholars were too afraid I'd ruin some valuable manuscript." She lied, this Chaol did not know of her heritage, and was still wary of her. She had returned to the library once, with Aedion and Rowan, and was relieved to see some of the precious scripts had been saved and hidden.

"I do not know why people do not read as much. There's a feel to it that is almost indescribable."
The brunette said, "Reading has gone out of fashion now."
She snorted. "Well more for me to read then."
"Read? These belong to the king."
"It's a library, isn't it?"
"It's the king's property, and you aren't of noble blood. You need permission from either him or the prince."
"Then I will get permission. And its not like they would read anyway, like you said, it's out of fashion."
"I am sure Prince Dorian would disagree with you on that."
She simply raised a blonde eyebrow.

Chaol abruptly changed the subject. "It's late. I'm hungry."
"So?" was her only reply. He growled and practically dragged her from the library, as she laughed, a tinkling sound.

~

Dorian hissed as ice touched his bruised cheek. His heart was pounding, because Sorscha was in front of him. Sorscha who was a gentle as ever, who was in danger, again because of her involvement with the rebels. 

He has angered his father, as a way to get into the healing rooms. He could see how Yrene and Sorscha were friends, the same gentle aura, same soft nature, but with a hidden side. He had been terrified to even step into the healing halls, he was on the verge of crying when Sorscha had immediately walked over to him. He knew he loved Manon, there was no disputing that, but Sorscha was his first love, and he couldn't forget that. He told Aelin he was going to talk to her, and she had given him a soft smile in return. 

"You can go now. The bruising should reduce soon", her soft voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up to see kind brown eyes staring at him, a slight pink tint on her cheeks visible.
He smiled and thanked her, and rushed out of there, his heart hammering.

Reaching his tower in record time, he slumped into his armchair, sighing to himself. He wondered why love had to be so painful, but exhilarating at the same time. 

Dorian had almost dozed off, when a knock sounded at his door. Frowning, he got up and opened it, seeing a servant standing there with a note that had a familiar handwriting on it. 
On reading it, he picked up eight of his favorite books and placed a note on top, grinning as he did so. 

Minutes later, the package arrived at the door of an assassin queen, who took it without question and smirked when she read the note.

Walking over to the wall-length tapestry, she pulled it aside and checked to see if the door handle still worked.

That night, a meeting would take place at an underground tomb of lost kings and queens, but for now, the two beings lost in time would take comfort in their books. 

~

Far away, in another continent, a white-haired male covered with markings in a strange language, fell from the sky, shifting from hawk to male as he did so.

He hit the ground hard, head bleeding. Days later, he woke up in an infirmary in Doranelle, with no recollection of his life.