The Librarian - Part Four

The mountain was alive. Jasper could feel it watching him as he followed Yorihito into its tunnels. Although he couldn't find the source, his skin itched from the gaze of a thousand eyes peering out at him through the dark. If there were ghosts here, he wasn't sure if he'd see them - and something unsettled him when he considered the prospect.

"There's something wrong here," he murmured, less to Yori than to confirm that he still had a voice. The air had gone stale and chilled and his breath came short. Jasper suddenly learned something he hadn't known about himself: he hated being this far underground.

Though he craved the darkness, this was a darkness without stars. A darkness without mercy. A darkness that reminded him of being swallowed whole by Umbraxis.

When Yori said nothing, Jasper's attention returned to his vision and he realized that the individual had disappeared.

Jasper stopped walking.

"Yori?" he called. His voice echoed around him, as though he was in a cavernous space. He put his hands out and felt walls on either side. "If this is a joke - "

His breath caught. He tried to steady himself as a wave of panic washed over him, first hot and then freezing. He couldn't see. There was no light anywhere, nothing put the darkened tunnels ahead and behind.

Perhaps if he went forward, he'd find Yori waiting for him at the end.

Perhaps if he went backward, he'd find sunlight. And some answers to this ludicrous prank.

But Jasper couldn't move. His feet felt frozen, like all those times standing before Bartholomew Threeves, listening to a dissection of every decision he'd ever made, followed by an explanation of how each one was wrong. He called to the Other, but it had gone silent, disappearing beneath a shroud of doubt. He tried to summon up the strength he used to fight Varek, but all he could do was press his hands against the walls on either side and try to breathe.

I am the master of shadows, he reminded himself. The darkness does not scare me.

And the darkness laughed.

The sound bounded towards him, rattling the walls and floor. Dust sprinkled down from the ceiling onto his face. Jasper, irritated at the sound, ground his teeth and took a step.

"Are you sure?" said the voice. Jasper wheeled to face it, but found nothing.

The voice belonged to Barty, but its source remained hidden. This was either strange magic, or a trap -

He reached for his shadows again. They would not answer.

"Show yourself," he barked into the dark, taking another step. And another. His imagination told him that the floor would give way with each step, and he'd plummet into an endless abyss - what else could explain that cavernous echo?

The laughter continued. "Jasper, Jasper," it insisted in its sing-song voice, dancing around him. Then it twisted into something far more sinister. "Give me a name, and I'll answer you."

Umbraxis. He recognized it easily - the Shadow Man had a voice no one could forget.

"That's easy," he said. "Umbraxis. James. James Ravenscroft - son of - "

But the laughter only continued. "Wrong and wrong. I thought you were intelligent."

Jasper thought briefly about Orion, and how his mastery of the sun would have been supremely useful at a time such as this. Even Aurora - if she could somehow bring starlight - would have at least helped him see.

"You haven't given me a clue," Jasper said. If it was a creature, or even a Fae-like being, perhaps he could trick it into revealing itself. Appealing to its vanity, he added, "Perhaps you'd like to make it a game."

"A game?" the voice sounded pleased, warm, and cool at the same time. Jasper took another step. He imagined the walls getting closer - no, they were getting closer, and the air was growing thin.

"Give me a hint," Jasper insisted. "If I guess correctly, you show me how to get out of here."

"And if you don't, then you stay with me forever."

The voice caressed his ear, his hackles rising at the sensation. Jasper tried to find it, but again, it was gone.

"A hint, then," the voice said. It had changed tones again - Orion was speaking to him now. "A riddle. Do you like riddles, little one?"

"I'm wonderfully bad at riddles," Jasper answered, annoyed. "But do your worst."

Delighted, the voice gave a little giggle and then began,

"I know every step you’ve taken,
Yet I’ve traveled nowhere.
I echo your voice,
Yet I make no sound.
I appear only when you seek,
Yet I am always near.
Unseen, untouched,
But forever bound.
What am I?"

This is insulting, Jasper thought, before answering, "This is obvious. Fear."

The voice laughed, bouncing around him, through him. "Wrong."

The walls began to shake, more dust trickling down from overhead. Jasper put his arms out again, pushing against the walls now creeping towards him.

"Wait!" he cried. The thing did not answer him, though he could feel its laughter in the grating of stone against stone. All around him, the walls began to press in. Jasper pressed against it, but his bones protested, lightning bolts of pain shooting down his limbs. He tried to go up, taking advantage of the shrinking space and hurling himself towards what he hoped was high ground, then found himself unable to move at all.

His arm outstretched overhead, the stones and dirt filling in rapidly around him, he squeaked out one last sound before it began to fill his lungs. This was definitely worse than drowning, he decided, as he lost the ability to move.

"Pardon, what was that?"

The wall released him, and he choked, "me."

A hand wrapped around his own and began to pull him out of the dirt. He didn't see its owner (the dark had not retreated) but it felt cold. Lifeless. And he didn't react to it, the way he would to something living.

"You're me," he gasped, heaving out mouthfuls of damp earth, eyes stinging from the fine gravel still clinging to his lashes. The hand continued to pull digging him out, and suddenly there was an eternity of space around him. "That's the answer to the riddle. You're name is…"

It was odd, but he committed to it anyway. "Your name is Jasper."

And then, there was light.

It was only a small light, but in a heavy and terrible darkness, it could have been the sun. Jasper leapt for it, uncertain how he'd lost it in the first place. He stumbled through the chasm, blinking away the tears from his irritated eyes, and awkwardly approached a dais.

The light came from a book, sitting on top.

"Very good, Jasper." Yori stood beside him, as though he'd been there all along. In fact, the room was growing brighter, and there was no sign of the thing that had taunted him. Only the strange little Fae and the book and a wide chasm that dissolved into endless darkness.

"What the…" Jasper sorted through a hundred or so foul words, looking for one which would accurately describe his disdain, "fuck," he decided, "was that?"

Yori chuckled softly. "Oh, don't mind that. It was the book, simply deciding if you were worthy."

Jasper glared at Yori and then at the book, which sat innocuously in front of him. "The book?"

"You came for a blessing, yes?"

"I came because my friend is sick and the only person who could help her is here. Your part in all of this is strictly coincidental."

"You came, Jasper," Yori said firmly, "because you need the seven keys. Which means you need the seven Guardians. You have your mother's key - the amulet you've been using to travel undetected through the realms. Now, you shall have mine."

Jasper stared at the little thing speaking to him. This was a Guardian? This feeble looking -

"I guard life," Yori explained. His mouth twitched into a half-smile. "And my key is truth."

Without preamble, he touched Jasper's forehead. The world tipped and began to spin and Jasper felt the floor of the cave disappear beneath him again. He became light and heavy all at once, and everything was too bright and too dark; too quiet and too loud. When he recovered himself, Yori was standing over him, still smiling. And his face was…radiant.

"You can see it, now," Yori said. Small beams of light shot out of his skin, out of his mouth, out of his eyes. "When something is true, it will look like this." He gestured to his face, and then Jasper saw the same light shining from his fingers. "Truth is essential to life - and it is my burden to bear."

Despite protesting, Yori helped Jasper back to his feet. The room still spun, but everywhere he looked, things were different. New patches of light and dark, new strings of color twirling around him.

"You'll get used to it," Yori added, laughing at Jasper's bewildered expression. "Now - let's get you cleaned up. You're filthy, and I expect you'll need to sleep."

---

The infirmary was cut into the stone mountain, a strange but comforting fixture in the sanctuary. Rohan watched helplessly as Aurora writhed in her bed, counting each breath until Lucrezia's concoctions successfully put her to sleep. Only when she was quiet, breathing slowly, did he sit by her side.

"Tell me everything," Lucrezia said, her voice gentle but firm. She sat in an empty bed on the other side, sagging with exhaustion.

Rohan scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling the sandpaper texture of weeks of grime and gore. He needed a bath. He needed a meal. He desperately needed sleep.

He told Lucrezia what had happened - how Jasper had saved them, and how it was only a matter of time before Threeves sent every officer he had to track them down.

"Even in the sanctuary, I doubt we'll be entirely safe," he said. He watched Aurora, his friend, the one he'd sworn to protect with his very life and sank even deeper into despair. "This won't stop until Threeves is in the ground."

"Threeves isn't the highest priority," Lucrezia reminded him. "There will be no world to live in if Umbraxis has his way."

"We're looking for the keys. Jasper said he'll help - we just have to figure out where the Guardians are hiding."

Lucrezia shifted. Rohan watched the small movements she made - each twitch of her fingers, each shift in her shoulders, told him that there was something she knew that she wouldn't say.

"Lucrezia - " he started, but he never finished.

The doors to the infirmary opened. In the hours spent with Aurora, Rohan hadn't noticed the sun's absence from the sky, and a full moon peeked through wispy clouds on the other side of the doors. Two figures crossed the threshold. Rohan rose to meet them, ready for a fight - when he recognized Yorihito, the Librarian of the Sanctuary, and Jasper.

Jasper was plastered in mud.

"Do I even want to know - "

Jasper glared at him. "No," he snapped, a growl that, despite its ferocity, made Rohan want to laugh.

"Jasper and I settled things rather quickly," Yori said, addressing Lucrezia as though the others weren't present. "He's ready."

Lucrezia paled. "Are you sure?"

"I'd like to be a part of the conversation, if I'm to listen to it," Jasper said, his voice hoarse.

"Certainly, certainly," Yori said. "Sit, why don't you? There is something you must know. It involves the Guardians, all of us - and, Jasper, your mother."

Rohan watched Jasper's mud-coated face change into something steely and guarded. He looked around for a suitable place to sit (even disorientated, it was against his instincts to ruin a clean bed with his muddy clothes) and in the end, sank onto the floor. Rohan's stomach clenched at the recollection of Jasper's mother. He knew the story Yori was about to tell; he knew how badly it had all gone. Hearing it again - hearing the part that he had missed, because he hadn't been there, because he had failed -

Rohan looked at Aurora. She was still breathing. Sleeping a dreamless sleep - but breathing.

He hadn't failed completely.

---

Umbraxis consumed Hera, and then began consuming everything else in his path.

Orion had never been a hero. His father had complained that he always wanted to be - there was little evidence of this, of course, but the King of Lumenvale had never been the most perceptive (it should have been hilarious, but it resulted in the untimely deaths of many of his armies). No - what King Arion had taken for heroism in his youngest son was actually Orion's attempt to find meaning in his life.

His brothers would inherit their father's kingdom; Orion was the youngest and the smallest and would receive nothing. Saving animals, rescuing kittens from trees, and attempting to rectify the small injustices of an overpriced scone or an underpaid worker was merely his hopefulness to contribute something potentially important to his brethren race. Of course, to have some sort of impact, one had to be alive.

That was why, as Umbraxis tore through the Hall of the Order, Orion crawled under a pile of rubble and lay completely still. He did not attempt to rescue any of his fellow Knights. He saved no one. He fought no one. He lay there, his eyes closed, and thought of a hundred ways Jasper would criticize him for being a coward.

Jasper, who, like Hera, would have stood his ground.

Jasper, who had died trying to save his family.

Jasper, who'd been the admirable one. The heroic one. The one whom, it had been promised, would see all the good in Orion and treat him with the respect he deserved. They'd become friends. Allies. Brothers. They'd climb the ranks together. It had been part of the deal - keep Jasper in the dark, and Orion would have everything he'd ever wanted out of his small, unimportant life.

But Jasper was gone now - returned to his wife and best friend, off Guardians-knew-where and doing Guardians-knew-what. He hoped they were happy. He hoped, however impossible it was, that they were still alive. And as Jasper's father sought him in the streets of Aetherill, Orion hoped that for once in his (second?) life, Jasper wouldn't answer the call and would stay far away.

Orion could hear Umbraxis leaving the Hall. The groaning of his great and terrible power roared to a fever pitch as he realized that his son was not there. He pushed through walls and doors and tore into the street, leaving the smoking wreckage in his wake.

It didn't take much imagination to know what Umbraxis would be doing now. That had been anticipated, too. Let the Shadow Man loose and he would tear apart the fabric of reality. He would create a trillion holes in space and time, until there were no more barriers between the realms. Life and death would cease to be; there would be no more distinction. And finally, finally, this ruthless war could end.

Orion hadn't wanted a war. He hadn't wanted holes in space and time. He'd wanted, as pitiful as it sounded now, a friend.

A real friend.

Jasper had been chosen for that role. The choice had been wrong.

Orion.

Something tugged at his sternum, and Orion's anxiety bubbled over. Tears streamed down his face as he choked down a sob of despair.

Orion. Come to me when I call you.

Orion stirred. He dragged himself out of the rubble, bloodied hands and knees leaving prints on the dusty stone.

Come to me and I'll heal you.

He stood. Before him was a portal, soft green and purple, beckoning him forward. Orion let out another sob.

Come to me, Orion. Before Umbraxis eats you.

One trembling step, then another. Orion felt his feet move and didn't have the strength to argue with them. He stepped into the portal and crossed to the other side.

In a moment, he was in a country four hundred miles away, high up in a tower. It was quiet. Cool. No monsters, no screaming; no fire, and no smoke.

Morwin stood, arms crossed, watching him pensively from across the room. Valeria stood by her scrying bowl. Little Dorian was also there, sitting on the balcony and playing with a wooden elumbrae.

Orion's stomach nearly emptied at the sight of the child.

"What's the matter, Orion?" Morwin asked softly. His voice was kind, soothing - no trace of the poison that lay beneath.

"Umbraxis is destroying Aetherill," Orion answered. His throat was raw from inhaling smoke and rubble. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the child, and wished that they would take him to a place where he'd never see him again.

"We knew that would happen," Morwin said. "That shouldn't alarm you."

Orion sucked in air, trying to steady himself. His entire body was beginning to shake. How long had he known Jasper - had he looked into the same eyes he now saw in this child? How long had he held this lie, this fabricated life, in hopes that it might become real? Looking at Dorian, he only now realized what, exactly, he'd done. The things he'd destroyed. The lives he'd ruined. And stealing a child from his parents -

As though sensing his thoughts, Valeria put herself between them, blocking Dorian from his view. Finally, Orion looked at Morwin.

"Jasper will come here," Morwin said. If he noticed Valeria, he didn't acknowledge it. "When he does, I'll need you to be ready for him."

"I can't fight him," Orion protested. "Even now he's too strong. He will tear this place apart. When he finds out about - "

Valeria hissed before he could finish. The room shuddered, lights flickering, and something in the shadows broke with the sound of shattering glass.

"Easy, my love," Morwin said. "Take Dorian and go downstairs. We'll be alright."

Orion watched her leave. Dorian protested, but Valeria took him by the hands and tugged him out of the room. Only when they were gone did Morwin continue.

"It upsets her, to talk about it," Morwin said.

"It should," Orion returned. His voice cracked. He tasted bile in the back of his throat. "What you did - taking him - "

Morwin's face darkened with rage. He surged forward, seizing Orion by the hair and wrenching his neck back as far as it would go without breaking. Orion let out a gasp of pain. Morwin hissed into his ear, "It was payment."

Then he threw Orion to the ground.

Orion had suffered his share under Bartholomew Threeves, but this…this was different. Barty had never been a killer. He relished too much in pain to commit to something so permanent as death. But Morwin…

"Your time in Aetherill is over," Morwin said. "You live here now. We've even cleared a room for you."

Orion sagged against the floor, eyes flooding with tears. "I want to go home," he cried softly.

"This is home, Orion."

Morwin knelt beside him. Gently, he brushed Orion's dirty hair out of his face. He wiped away his tears with his thumb, like a loving father. It made Orion want to throw himself off of the balcony.

"When this is done, assuming you survive, you're welcome to do what you will," Morwin told him. "But until Aelric is here, and until I have the keys to summon him, you will fulfill your end of the deal."

Morwin stood. He didn't wait for an agreement. Orion didn't make one. He just lay there as darkness gathered around him. He knew he wasn't a hero. He knew he would never be as brave or as strong or as cunning as one needed to be to wear that title. He was a coward - one who hid under rubble and submitted to creatures such as Morwin.

One who'd known that Jasper Ravenscroft had had a wife, and a child, and a big, beautiful life - and had never once told him the truth about it.

---

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