running away and towards

Fiat Lux was Quanil's favorite festival... until the next one came around, and then that was their favorite. Fiat Lux was Quanil's favorite festival for now, and might retain the position because...

THE LORESEEKERS GUILD HAS A BOOTH UP. AND THEY'RE RECRUITING.

It would mean getting away from the family though. And that had been their problem from the beginning. An entire guild of people stupid enough to go looking for trouble? At least that's how their parents had characterized it. They didn't understand. No one in Quanil's family understood! It was so frustrating!

So, at this Fiat Lux, with the temptation of the Loreseekers so close, they had schemed to find a way. A distraction would have been good, but their parents weren't really distracted by anything except danger. Quanil hadn't been about to wish for that, especially at a celebration (in part) to honor the (usually literally) lost of LongNight.

Do they really eat all the bodies? they'd wondered for easily the hundredth time. What if they take them somewhere, turn them into more monsters? Maybe the monsters come back to our homes because some part of them remembers them as safety, as love and light and...

WHUMP.

Nothing at Fiat Lux typically went "WHUMP."
Very little was 'typical' anymore though. (If it ever had been.)

And there had been that mud monster, flailing at the ice shield, and a calm, clear voice suggesting an orderly evacuation.

Quanil's parents had grabbed their hands and RUN. Kedran and Freina had already bolted - they didn't have to be told twice or argued with or convinced to run, and as much as Quanil had wanted to stay and watch the brave who had intervened, two words had run in their head, over and over:

"THE SANCTUARY"

They were being evacuated to the Sanctuary, where the Atheneum was, and if everyone was being evac'd, then...

Surely this is a sign from the Gods!

Quanil had regretted that thought almost as soon as it had passed through their brain. Because, not long after, shards of ice had begun to pass through people. And their brains, in some cases, but more usually their hearts or lungs or all the less-protected organs a bit farther down.

"KEEP RUNNING!" Their mother had shouted.
Kedran had cried out when his calf got speared. Father had dropped Quanil's hand to go pick the boy up, then had turned to keep running.
Mother's arm had been bleeding the next time they'd seen her, and she'd had to drop their hand, too. They'd lost sight of Freina.

"TO THE SANCTUARY!" they'd screamed above the crying and wailing, the whizzing and slashing, the discordant sounds of life trying to avoid death. "RUN!"
And they had.

They'd fled, and an evacuation that hadn't been much for 'orderliness' to begin with was now even more chaotic. There was a saying in Quanil's family: "gettin' down to the dirt of it." It meant removing extraneous details and focusing on what was important. (Most of Quanil's family didn't know what 'extraneous' meant, though.) Well, quite a lot of people had been gettin' down to the dirt of it then, either reverting to pure survival instinct or else ending up dead on the muddy celebration grounds.

Quanil had lost their family in the mad dash. They'd been heading for the Sanctuary, like everyone else. They had to be around here somewhere. But it occurred to Quanil that they'd never have another chance like this.

Maybe this was the Gods' hands in it, maybe it was sheer dumb luck. Quanil was mostly uninjured, save for some scrapes and a couple of thin slices on their arms. They'd been separated from their family, who they loved dearly but who would keep them from their dream if given their druthers.

They had hesitated... then crept away like a rat slinking towards the grain bags. I'll say a prayer for them at the shrine, they'd reasoned.

They headed there first, and it took longer to get there than they'd expected. They were used to being corralled by Mom and Dad, being told to just blindly follow, and it'd been a while since they'd last left the Fields. They took a few wrong turns on the way, but eventually made it to the shrine, said some sincere prayers for their family's safety and... understanding, and then bolted towards the Atheneum.

And promptly got lost again. The Atheneum was one place they'd definitely never been to before. It was just as well; they had to get something to eat, something to drink, find places to rest. All the curiosity and desire in the world didn't sustain a body, and Quanil's body was adamant about reminding them of this.

But once they were there... The BOOKS. They grabbed the first one they saw, a treatise on a language Quanil'd never even heard of before. They sat down right there to read about it and lost track of time until hunger insisted itself between their brain and the pages. Honestly, Quanil might've been happy to just sit here and read every book they could, but while chewing some now-stale bread, they reminded themselves of their mission.

The Loreseekers aren't just about personal learning and discovery. It's about using that knowledge to help others. But... they'd already started the book... Quanil made a deal with themselves: finish reading this one book, and then press on to the Loreseekers' Guild. The Gods had provided this chance for them, and they'd abandoned their family to take it. Something good had to come of it all.

Finally, Quanil stood before the Loreseekers' door, days after the carnage made at Fiat Lux. They traced the book and the rays of knowledge it shone forth, the light to banish the darkness of ignorance. Just standing here at this threshold felt like it had taken the work of a lifetime - in a way it had - and Quanil was frozen in the moment of awe, feeling both bigger and smaller than they ever had before.

Trauma piled on trauma. Death piled on death. Jigano had failed to stop the collapse of the sanctuary and shrine in the Temple, and failed to save Ronin (or Remi, or Aoife, he later discovered) in the process. Many lay dead in the aftermath of the festival, and many more were healing wounds that would leave scars both physical and mental behind long after the bleeding had ceased.

He had made it home at last to fall into his mate’s arms, to clean up and eat something and collapse into dreamless unconsciousness for a few hours until daylight had called him back once more. Back to duty and memory, back to pain and stubbornness. He hardly knew where to begin picking up the pieces, but his feet had taken him back to the Sanctuary. He had shied away from the damaged Temple, veering into the Atheneum instead as he headed for the Guild. He had to record the events as best he had been able to gather recollections of them while they were still fresh, he knew, trying to shake off the feeling of numb despair that washed through him as he considered the rolls of the dead that would need to be compiled.

He would not have been surprised to see the Guild door open and Loren or even Sam within. He wasn’t surprised that it was closed, either, but what did give him pause was the young person standing before it, a stranger who seemed enamored with the design on the metal-encased door. He took a moment to process the tableaux, pushing through the haze of regret and loss that still clouded his thoughts. Someone needed the Loreseekers, and as their Provost he needed to be there for them. Shoving aside his grief and wrapping it up tightly, he straightened his shoulders and smoothed his expression to one of courtesy and welcome. ”Hello,” he called quietly as he completed his approach. ”How can the Loreseekers be of service?”

They jumped at hearing a voice behind them. The same calm voice that had ordered the evacuation. And when they turned to it...

"Oh, Mr. Jigano Silversmith the Sage, sir!" they rambled off. "I-I'd like to be one, please! I mean... a Loreseeker. Please. I already said that. I..." They stopped and exhaled, dusted off their mostly brown clothes (save for the red shirt), did their best to try to look presentable. They didn't bother trying to fix their hair; it was beyond salvation. "I know this isn't really the best time." Was their family still alive? Was it bad that they weren't curious enough about that?

Well, they were here now, and of all people, THE PROVOST WAS HERE, and... Quanil felt very, very unimportant. Not that they'd ever been important in any way, but standing in Jigano Silversmith's presence kind of emphasized the point.

"I just... want to learn and want to help. I think we have to learn so that we can help, and right now, I'm not much good for anything, but... I'd like to try. Sir."

At any other time the enthusiasm and respect would have been a delightfully heady brew to the Provost, who had come to thrive on the support of the people of the Hollowed Grounds in a way he had never thought would matter. Now he yearned for it, and the young Grounder's obvious eagerness to meet him and join the guild would usually have had him grinning from ear to ear in matching delight at finding another curious soul to join their ranks.

These weren't usual times, however (or rather, they were becoming far too usual), and the most Jigano could muster was a tired smile of gratitude as he reached past the young applicant to unlock the door with a key he drew from within his sleeve. "Just 'Jigano' is fine," he said soothingly. "And what may I call you?" Their brown clothing and red shirt were a reminder of the mud and blood that had been spilled at the festival, a contrast to his own dove greys and pale greens, the colors beginning to fade with washing and wear. He blinked to clear the memory of the fallen and led the way down the spiral stone stairs to the Hall below, with its tall ceiling and chandelier of a great glowing geode reflecting light around the room via a series of mirrors. A fireplace with a clever, intricate grate was set into the far end of the Hall, sparks held within the hearth by the wrought metal shutters while a large table dominated near the door, lined with empty chairs. The walls were lined with shelves, filled with books sorted from the Atheneum above into careful sections: Flora and Fauna, Magic, Races, Healing and Medicine, History, Geography, Mythology, Music... some shelves were more sparsely populated than others, but were slowly being filled in. Others were near to overflowing.

Jigano gestured to the far end of the room, and the overstuffed chairs set around the fireplace. "Shall I make some tea?" he offered, hoping a little hospitality might hope to calm his guest's nerves. "And perhaps you can tell me a bit about yourself?"

They stepped out of the way as the provost opened the door, already chiding themselves for not thinking of that before now. "Oh, I'm Quanil, sir." They followed dutifully down the stairs. "I spent most of my time in the Fields, but I can read and do my numbers, and I always work really hard, and..."

Everything else got lost when they got down to the Great Guild Hall of the Loreseekers. Quanil stopped dead and stared, wide-eyed, at all the books. The warmth of the fire, the geode's light reflecting off of the mirrors - of course they wouldn't have just normal candles and sconces! - the shelves and shelves... The fact that some of them were empty just excited them more, because it spoke of everything yet to be learned.

They were wandering towards one of the bookshelves when the provost spoke again. Frey's tit, what did he say?! I wasn't paying attention. Just got here and already mucking up. ...and that perhaps was not a phrase they should say out loud.

But they caught the last question and the provost was gesturing to the chairs, so... "Oh, of course. I'm..." They hesitated to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs, feeling as if they might dirty the upholstery even though their pants were clean (clean as they could get, anyway). They sat delicately, as if to leave as little impression on the chair as possible. "I-I'm Quanil, grew up in the Fields. Mom made sure I knew how to do my letters and numbers, and after that I just couldn't stop reading. Uh, I can copy, too, as far as writing goes, but I'm not... y'know." They gestured to the books. "I'm not a writer."

Quanil's words cascaded out, an eager brook babbling over rapids as they sought to get everything out on one breath, and Jigano felt the twinge of weary amusement more strongly this time as silence descended behind him at the newcomer's first sight of the Hall. Pride (ever his worst vice) curled in his chest, Quanil's open admiration a welcome balm against the litany of failure the last few days had driven into his heart. He and his guildmembers had worked hard to make this Hall a welcoming place of learning, a haven of research and study and a place to gather and share knowledge. After the last few days of burials and funerals, soul shepherding and clean up of the festival grounds and Temple, the simple reminder of the good that his guild could do, of their purpose, was much needed.

Quanil introduced themselves again as they sat, and Jigano's smile warmed a little at the nervous excitement in the young Natural's demeanor. He turned away briefly to dip the kettle in the water barrel to fill it before setting it on the hob to heat before taking his own chair. "Few have time to hone that skill here," he offered reassuringly, smile fading a little at the recent reminder of why the Hollowed Grounds so rarely had leisure for gentler pursuits, when fighting to coax crops from the tired soil or defending small herds from many predators took up the days of most of those on the Outskirts, and other trades worked just as hard in the Settlement.

"What sorts of books did you read?" he probed gently, curious in spite of the recent tragedy about what had brought this earnestly hopeful applicant to their door. "And what sorts of books would you choose to read, if given the choice?"

The Provost of the Loreseekers Guild was just sitting there smiling at them with a warmth and a patience Quanil couldn't remember seeing in ages. Just... just sitting there like this was normal, and...

I guess it is normal for him.

They'd been worried about being reckoned too dumb, too ignorant to join such a storied fellowship, and maybe that was still to be true, but at least it might not be on account of their actual writing skill (or lack thereof).

Quanil wanted to ask so many things, things not even related to the Guild. They wanted to seek absolution for coming here when their family might have needed them, for abandoning them because they knew that this family, for all they were their blood, would keep them from this place. Where was the line between self-determination and outright selfishness? For now, they kept to the questions.

"Not much to read out in the Fields; Mom taught me so I could help with the merchants. I read anything I could get out there, but after the..." They didn't want to bring it up, but it was unavoidable. They skirted around mentioning the festival and its...happenings. "After I got here, I found a book on the lingua-stics," they said it as best they could, not knowing how the word was said, and only sort of aware of what it meant, from what they'd figured out through the context of the book, "on a language of our ancestors. Doesn't give much help in speaking it or anything, but it was interesting to read about how we think our ancestors might have thought, y'know? How they thought and spoke and presented those thoughts, the how of how they did it. Never read a book like that before. Took me a bit to get through; the young'uns prefer storybooks to be read out to them."

They ducked their head. "I know I'm not much, but... I can learn! And I'll work real hard, this is all I've wanted ever since I first heard of the Loreseekers' Guild!" They calmed as they said, quietly, "I was hoping to go to the booth at the festival, but... uh. I guess that didn't work out real well." They looked up at their host. "I hope you're okay, Mr. Jigano, sir?"

There was little point in asking if things had worked out well. Even if the evacuation had gone smoothly, even if there hadn't been the collapse of buildings, things rarely worked out well. That was just how life went, and it boggled Quanil's mind that their parents thought hiding under a table would change that.

Jigano couldn't grant absolution, and he was perhaps the last person to answer questions about self-determination and selfishness when others informed him that his choices fell to the latter far too often, regardless of his intentions. It was a relief that Quanil avoided those questions, at least for now, offering information about themselves and their past that had Jigano nodding encouragingly as they filled in the blanks. His smile didn't change at the awkward pronunciation of 'linguistics', and he let the young aspiring scholar continue without interruption. His smile did broaden as Quanil waxed eloquent on the abstract nature of human thought, his expression one of agreement and shared delight.

"Well, we have storybooks, too," he murmured. "But there are other books on linguistics tucked away as well, if the subject has caught your interest." He pronounced the word casually, letting Quanil hear it without emphasizing it unduly.

Then the young person ducked their head and he raised a brow as the bright and eager mind turned suddenly self-deprecating. He arched a silver brow, waiting for them to finish and then offering a slight smile and a faint nod at the concern. "I was luckier than most," he said quietly. "Though... a dear friend of mine was badly injured in the collapse of the Temple." He was quiet for a moment, his eyes momentarily unfocused and his thoughts winging towards Amalia. He pulled himself back to the present with an effort of will, blue eyes focusing sharply once more on his enthusiastic guest. "But who ever told you that you 'aren't much'?" he asked gently, sensing much of the same fears and doubts that had plagued Sam, Maea, and Amalia as well. All of the Naturals with a scholarly bent seemed afraid that they would be thought of as 'lesser' for it - or had been treated with disdain by members of their families or peers when they were younger. It made him all the more determined to turn the Loreseekers into a group well-known and respected enough that parents would be proud to have family members who bore the badge.

Even if what they did was often dangerous. But then, what in Caido wasn't?

"I hope they'll pull through, sir," they said politely. "I don't know if our world was always such a dangerous place or if something happened to make it this way. It'd be interesting to try to find out, but... well, I don't even know how to begin to begin, if that makes sense, sir?" They winced at their own awkward phrasing.

"Loreseekers, to me, they're... you're heroes a-and Adventurers and I don't really have those sort of skills. I can read, do my numbers, and copy letters well enough, and I just am... well, Mom would say I'm 'too curious for my own good'. It doesn't feel like... enough?" they ventured. But then they followed it up immediately by asserting, "But I'll do anything! I'll... copy books or study or... or sweep floors! At first," they tacked on, because if that was all it took to make them happy, they'd have stayed home.

"I just want to learn. About... linguistics," they pronounced it correctly this time, "and the history of our world and why it is the way it is, and the people who came before us, and the Gods, and the people who come from other worlds, and... and just everything."

"Most worlds are dangerous, depending on where you're at on the food chain," Jigano said with a slight smile, finding Quanil's innocent enthusiasm unexpectedly soothing to his own grief and guilt. "But three hundred years is not so long in the grand scheme of things. There are Fae whose grandparents remember a time before the barrier, after all. One way to find out what life before the barrier was like would be to ask for the records from the Greatwood or Halo." He paused, then raised a cautionary finger. "Though not everyone will want to answer questions right away. Tread lightly and respectfully with the Fae, and let them set the pace. We've been working to build a bridge between our peoples for a year now, but between the Ascended and the Blight things have not gone smoothly. They have good reason to not trust outsiders, so answers from them require patience and diplomacy." He offered his young guest a gentler smile. "Those from Halo, though, might be more amenable." They could be standoffish in their own way, but then there was Ingrid who... well. Give her a bottle of rum and an eggplant and she'd answer questions until the bottle went dry.

Hearing Loreseekers described as 'heroes' when they'd been such failures at stopping the havoc at the festival brought a sad smile to his lips. "Reading and writing are not so common as all that," he said gently. "And the curiosity to look beyond the bounds of tradition is rarer still. If you come to us with a genuine desire to learn and help others, that's all you need to get started. The rest will come with time," he added, considering Quanil's probable age with a flicker of wry humor in spite of the weight he was carrying from the festival. "Studying is a good place to begin. We're always happy to have those willing to copy texts, though it's not something required. And we all take our turns sweeping," he added, his smile emerging a little further.

'Everything' would take quite a while, and reminded him a little of poor Peter Launceleyn, trapped in a family that would use him as a weapon or a tool. Quanil was free to join them, however, and he hummed thoughtfully as the kettle began to sing. He shifted to pull it off the hob and prepare the tea in the pot, adding the hot water to a mix that smelled of apples and cinnamon. "For the first few weeks is there something you'd like to focus on, or at least start with?" he asked as he pondered. "Perhaps two or three subjects you'd like to master while you pursue the rest?" Linguistics had been a damn useful skill on his world, but so far proved far less used here. The Fae had their own language, but it wasn't one they had been inclined to share so far, and thanks to the portals that had once linked the entire continent, it seemed as though everyone they'd met so far all spoke the same language, even after three hundred years of isolation. The linguistics book had probably come from a past Outlander, but they did need someone in the guild besides him to specialize in collecting Outlanders's tales...

Their eyes lit up at the thought of talking with FAE, but they tamped down their enthusiasm at the thought they might screw up the important work that was being done in 'building the bridge' to them. They could be patient, when they wanted to be, but otherwise it was a struggle. And 'diplomacy'? Quanil knew what the word meant (and how to pronounce it), but they had no idea if they were any good at it at all.

Halo sounded better for a beginner, so Quanil made a mental note about that as they eagerly took in everything the provost was saying. And what the provost was saying sounded... promising.

Instead of answering the questions put to them, the first thing that burst out of Quanil was a question of their own. "Does that mean you'll accept me? The Loreseekers, I mean. I can be a Loreseeker and study..." There were so many things they wanted to learn about that they had trouble figuring out where to start. "...history and linguistics and... and science and technology?" Because it occurred to them that they'd won a few smiles now and then when they'd figured out how to fix an old machine - so old, no one could remember what it had done, beyond it being some sort of 'farm implement' - and how to use it (it had turned out to be a seed planter, for sowing crops quicker). Besides, history, languages, science, and technology covers... most of the bases.

They weren't kidding when they said they wanted to learn everything.

Answering questions with questions? Quanil would be a fine Loreseeker indeed, and Jigano inclined his head in agreement, feeling the smile pulling at lips that had been tight with grief for several days now. "You seem determined enough that I don't think I could stop you," he teased gently. "But yes. What we do can be dangerous, and grueling, and too often thankless... but preserving memory and knowledge and adding to what is known here in the Hollowed Grounds is worth doing, and we need Seekers and allies."

He carefully handed the new Loreseeker a mug of tea, setting his own on the little table beside his chair before he stood and moved towards a thicker wooden door on the south side of the building, speaking as he went. "You've picked some areas that we have very few records on, I'm afraid." His voice was wry as he ducked into his office, rummaging around for a few moments before emerging with something in his hand. "'Science' covers quite a lot of ground, though. Most 'technology' falls under the Ascended's domain, so there is some risk there... with things heating back up again between the old gods and the new." He shook his head, a flicker of a grim expression falling over his features before he exhaled and extended his hand to Quanil, opening it to reveal a pin about an inch in diameter, a copper disc with a silver book upon it, rays of gold emerging from its open pages. "But the sciences will keep you busy to begin with." He smiled at the newest recruit. "We have a large section on medical texts thanks to Isla if you wish to learn about biology. We have a fair bit on flora and fauna as well. Where would you like to start, Seeker Quanil?"

Every word out of the provost's mouth made Quanil happier and happier until they thought it was impossible to get any happier. And then they were given a pin with the light of knowledge shining forth from the book and addressed as "Seeker," and they began a little "eeeeeeeeee" shriek (fortunately quietly).

But they'd been asked a question, and they cleared their throat to stop the happy noise and focused. "Um... do we have anything yet on Halo? Y-you mentioned that it might be a good place to start, so maybe once I have a bit of background, if it's available, I could go there. They weren't in the barrier, so they've had to have some developments in sciences."

He glanced at the kettle, wondering briefly if he'd set it too close to the hob again-- but, no, that sound was coming from young Quanil and he felt a twinge of trepidation strike discordant notes within his heart. Loreseekers had a bad habit of dying, or disappearing, or getting kidnapped, and did he have any right to put one so young into such danger?

But if he didn't agree to let them join where he and the others could keep an eye on them, would they just find a way to involve themselves in worse danger? He'd seen a lot of enthusiasm so far, but very little common sense. Maybe Loren could provide some direction... and a steadying influence. Though the fire-happy bear-summoner was currently dealing with his own demons after his ice shards had killed so many.

He settled back into his seat and picked up his mug of tea as he considered the question, nodding slowly. "One of our more recent additions is actually from Halo," he explained. "Ingrid came through the portal shortly after it opened, and found her way here. She liked what she heard and joined our ranks, and is currently our top expert on her land." His lips quirked wryly in spite of the gravity of the day. Ingrid was... certainly not what one would expect from a Loreseeker! "We've begun to travel to and from that land more frequently now, and learned that the leader of Halo is Warder Neron - an Outlander. Also, much to everyone's surprise, he's the brother of another recently-joined Seeker, an Outlander named Loren." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Samuel, our Chronicler is exploring Halo for... other reasons," he admitted, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "But also reporting back what he's finding to the Guild, as far as geography, geology, and weather. Which is mostly colder than the coldest winter ever recorded in the Hollowed Grounds," he added with a hint of warning in his voice. "Halo is a land of eternal winter, lethally so if you don't take safeguards against it. Also, the Warder requires us to bring offerings to leave with the guards on their side of the portal if you travel there. Food is preferred, though fuel or warm clothing seems welcome as well." He paused in his recitation of information to see what Quanil would think of it all as he raised a brow at them. "Once you've caught up on the sciences already available in the Hollowed Grounds it would be a good place to go. You'd have allies there if you needed them, and those who can guide you through the Tundra to reach the Citadel so you don't freeze to death before you find it." Not a problem since a path had been cleared... unless there was a blizzard.