[OPEN] Fabula Aeternam

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It had not been the first Portal he had stepped through, but it had been the worst by far – and the most painful. It had felt like getting pulled apart and put back together again by a curious watchmaker, each piece examined and then set back with a pat of approval – but that didn’t mean it had been a gentle watchmaker. Jigano had stumbled from the rift to the grey dust of an area he would learn to call the Hollowed Grounds, retching and unable to cast even the most basic of the spells he had once known. Wary and perhaps more than a little paranoid, he had taken to his fox form - at least that had remained to him – to find a place to hide and recover.

He had spent the last week exploring, eavesdropping, and trying to understand what had happened to him. It had been a long time since he’d spent so many days in his animal form, but the kitsune found himself anxious about taking a human form until he knew what his reception was likely to be. It seemed he needn’t have worried: he was far from the first person to arrive unexpectedly, and no one seemed to know why or what caused the Portals. Far more troubling was the realization that he was not only far from home, but well beyond the limits of his considerable knowledge of other planes and worlds. The rules seemed… different here. The magic was strange and unfamiliar, as were several of the animals he’d come across. At least he could understand the language! But so much else was new…

The Bubble was a problem. It defied his understanding and seemed to be slowly killing the land around it. It reminded him uncomfortably of something he’d seen in his travels once, a great dome that stretched for miles, a habitat it had been called, for study subjects millennia-dead. Of course, dead hadn’t meant unmoving in that place, though it wasn’t a memory Jigano liked to dwell on. His own journey had very nearly ended that day…

He shook himself, smoothing down the heavy, pale tan fabric of the long, sleeveless tunic that fell past his knees, open up the sides to his hips to allow for freedom of movement. Beneath it was a shorter tunic with loose sleeves gathered at the wrists, pale green and woven of fine linen. Supple leather trousers were tucked into soft-soled brown boots that rose to midcalf. Overall the clothing was well-tailored and made of materials fine enough for comfort but sturdy enough for travel. He had become a pragmatic man, but he set stock in presenting a good appearance, and was used to having the resources to maintain it. Or at least… he’d had the resources.

He didn’t let the internal grimace touch his face, choosing instead to keep his expression serene and politely curious as he made his way through the ruins around the Spire, picking his way carefully to the large – if battered – building he had heard called the “Atheneum.” What he’d picked up indicated that it was a place of knowledge and books and, perhaps, answers. Even if his connection to the deities of his own world had been severed he still revered lore in all its forms, and so such a place drew him as strongly as iron to lodestone.

The entrance was not as secure as he would have expected from such an important building, and one eyelid twitched at the thought of the wind and wet swirling through the shelves of tomes. Once within he cleared his throat, his voice ringing out in a smooth, rich tenor: ”Hello? Is there a caretaker here?”

It was an oddly quiet day at the Atheneum - those were Samuel's favourites. Where he was free to explore and wonder, breeze easily through books without a worry. A lot of the text was unreadable or too old to understand but those he could decipher sent him on journeys. He devoured books about the Ascended, especially; knowing of others with his strange curse made the world a little more friendly.

He was deep into a book he was struggling to read but which bore the most beautiful illustrations of different flowers when a voice rang out. He jumped, not having heard the foot steps, but the voice didn't sound menacing so he stepped out from the alcove he had been reading in, waved at the stranger meekly.

"Oh, hello. There-um-I don't think there are any caretakers here. Maybe there are. But no one seems to know." Samuel explained, stumbling through his words, clearly not sure about them as they came out of his mouth. "I-I have been here for a long time though. I know where most things are, i-if you need help with something. I'm, um, Samuel." He began to walk over to the stranger, hoping they would be receptive to his help.

It was a relief to see another person in the building – Jigano had been half-expecting the great repository to be deserted and its charges left untended – and the skinny ginger-haired man looked harmless enough as he offered a timid wave. The book in his hand was already enough to lend him a good impression in the lorekeeper’s estimation, and the stumbling speech gave him enough of a thread to begin weaving with.

He smiled gently, offering a nod as he drifted to a stop in the wide central aisle, not trying to approach too near or too quickly. ”Hello Samuel,” he said, raising his voice just enough to reach the other man. There was no need to speak too loudly; he’d been surprised at how well his words had carried earlier. He tilted his head as he took in his companion, making a quick estimate of his profession – not a fighter, nor one of the heavier trades. A clerk, perhaps? Or a jeweler? ”I’m Jigano,” he offered courteously as Samuel approached. ”And I have not been here for very long at all, I’m afraid.” His smile quirked at the corner, turning wry as he offered his hand. ”So I’ve come to learn what I can about this place. I had hoped to find the information… well. Better catalogued than it seems to be.” His tone was a touch rueful as he let his gaze roam the interior of the damaged library. Shelves haphazardly piled with books, scrolls, parchment, tablets, and all manner of written words seemed to lack any order or logic. But perhaps appearances were deceiving, and he turned back to Samuel with an openly hopeful expression on his sharp-featured face.

”Is there anything here about the history of this world? Its flora and fauna? Its magic and gods?”

As Sam stepped closer to Jigano, he found himself taken with the man's hair. He knew he was staring a bit, but in this place real beauty was rare and it was unlike any hair he'd ever seen. He almost felt too drab in comparison, in his dark clothes and with his copper hair (which he'd been teased for frequently as a child).

"Jigano..?" He mumbled to himself, never having heard the name before. The next thing out of the man's mouth confirmed his suspicion that he was a Outlander. Sam had never been sure how to feel about the newcomers in the land. He supposed as long as they left him alone and bought his books they were just as good as anyone else.

Sam turned to look at the shelves, taking in the dishevelled and jumbled appearance as if for the first time. He'd gotten so used to it over the years he didn't even think about it anymore. "...Yes...it's...unique. In here."

Jigano's request had him tapping his chin for a moment as he looked about, trying to remember where everything was. With a start and a smile, he held up the book currently in his hand. "Well! This book is about the flora, I...I think? It's a little hard to read." He admitted, with a sheepish laugh. "But I can show you some good histories. This way."

Turning on his heel, Sam lead Jigano around to the edge of the Atheneum, where a large book protuded far out from the shelf. "That-" Sam said, pointing at it, "Is the most comprehensive history of all of them. But...there's even a lot of that that is lost."

Jigano was used to being watched; it came with the job, after all. And even in his own land, which held so much more diversity than he’d seen here so far, he was memorable. So he took Samuel’s gaze with an acknowledging smile and gave an encouraging nod. His name sounded a little odd in the other man’s nervous voice, but the pronunciation was right, which he appreciated.

He chuckled at the chosen adverb, agreeing wholeheartedly as he tried to discern any sort of rhyme or reason to the hodgepodge of knowledge that surrounded them. His request for specifics of his new world earned him a somewhat surprising answer – he blinked and then found himself grinning at the book Samuel held up. ”I’ll keep that one in mind for later then, when you’ve finished with it,” he spoke graciously, but his blue eyes sparkled with gentle humor and genuine respect for the other man’s willingness to tackle a difficult tome – whether it was hard to read through language difficulty or damage Jigano didn’t know, but the result was much the same, and that the ginger scholar persevered spoke well of his character.

They walked slowly enough for the lorekeeper to appreciate the vast array of different books around them, some amazingly well-preserved and others crumbling with age and mildew – some side by side. The place badly needed a custodian as well as an organizer, he mused to himself. Among other things. Rows of shelves continued on into the dark depths of the building and out of sight in another direction, many quite full. It would be the work of several lifetimes to tame the place…

His thoughts were brought up short as they reached their destination and he eyed the over-large tome a little dubiously. The objects that had once enhanced his strength and speed and durability no longer worked, and he had found himself woefully weakened by their absence. ”It certainly looks comprehensive,” he said with a wry smile. ”And at least it’s a beginning. Thank you, Samuel. Ah… perhaps you can help me carry it to that table over there? I’d hate to drop it, if it’s half as heavy as it looks…” He gave his companion a winsome grin as he went to take hold of the spine and bottom of the book, preparing to lift it if the other man would help him. ”But tell me, are you a herbalist or healer, to be studying the plants here?”

Jigano laughed along with Samuel at his inability to understand the flora book, but it was kind laughter. With a smile he placed the book down on a nearby table (he thought that was what it was. With every surface covered in books and papers it was hard to tell).

As an Ascended he was meant to be gifted with strength but he found himself staring at the book with the same awkward insecurity as Jigano. Still, he was sure between the two of them they could manage it - and, he let himself fantasise a little, this could be a friend. He couldn't let Jigano down over something so simple.

"Let's take it to um...there." He pointed over to a patch of bare table a few metres away. Grabbing the other end of the book he lifted it and was pleased to find it not as heavy as he imagined, though he still had to use both hands and slowly step towards their goal.

"Oh-- me? No. I-I just like to read. It's probably silly but I just..." He shrugged. "I just like learning things. I work um..selling books at the markets. I make them too. S-sometimes I make copies of things in here. Are you a herbalist?"

The table Samuel pointed to looked sturdy enough, and there was even a nearby stool that had been a chair at one point, before the back had been broken off. Jigano nodded his agreement and braced as the other man joined him. Between the two of them the book was no trouble at all, though the slender bard was glad for the help. The tome’s size made it awkward, and its age made him especially loathe to risk dropping it. With Samuel’s help, however, it was easily moved and set into its new home. Jigano grinned at his companion, taking up the thread of conversation once more now that their precious burden had survived its journey unscathed.

“Learning is never silly,” the white-haired man reassured his new friend – for Samuel certainly had the makings of one! – with a smile. “Learning things is very much part of what I do, and who I am. I’m a Lorekeeper by preference, or a bard by any other name. Oral and written traditions are both passions of mine… though… most of my written collection was lost when I came here.” For a moment his smile faded, genuine regret robbing his expression of the charm he’d been maintaining for his new acquaintance. He shook it off quickly however, letting his smile return, albeit a bit wryly.

“I have some academic knowledge of herbs, though, yes. Not that it does me much good.” Again the grimace, and a shrug of his shoulder. “Some few things here I’ve recognized, but much has been strange to me. A lifetime of knowledge about my own world… less useful than the raw paper my scrolls have become.” Long fingers flickered, indicating dust cast to the wind. “Now, it seems, I must begin almost anew. But I couldn’t have asked for better luck in running into you. A scholar and a bookmaker? I would almost suspect the meddling of these strange local gods, if it didn’t make so much sense to run into someone like you in a place like this.” His smile returned, sincere if not as strong as before. “But tell me, please, do you only make copies, or do you write your own work as well?”

Jigano seemed to approve of his academic pursuits, and Sam broke out into a genuine, flushed smile. Most people didn't encourage his bookish nature, thinking him pathetic and nerdy. It seemed like Jigano was of a similar spirit to him, with the deliciously enticing job title of 'lorekeeper'.

"I-I think that your work is still valuable. People like stories, after all. It would just be a story to the people here." Sam was interested himself in reading about one of these other worlds the Outlanders came from - he'd heard some were bizarre, completely different to his own.

He frowned a little at the mention of the Gods, not massively keen on them unless he had to be for his shrine visits. Still, being asked about his work was a welcome distraction enough.

"Both...people like to buy the copies more, but I make up stories or retell legends. I try to illustrate the books too, sometimes, but..." He laughed sheepishly and shrugged. "I am no artist. But perhaps if you had your stories to tell I could create them into volumes for you?" It was a large project to suggest off the cuff, but he wanted to impress.

"I'd need you to c-come to my home some time to tell me the stories. Or we could meet here."

Jigano blinked in surprise, then inclined his head in a gracious nod of gratitude at the unexpected reassurance and support. Stories were his stock-in-trade, after all, how he earned his bread and wine and the coin to pursue his first calling. He had preferred histories and tales that were more truth than fantasy – there were certainly enough heroes and villains in his own world that fiction seemed hardly necessary – but for the inhabitants of this world, almost everything he knew was fiction.

”I’m afraid the ‘stories’ about plants and animals don’t have much in the way of plot,” he chuckled wryly. ”But some of the rest… yes, perhaps, the histories might translate to something like fairy tales here.” He tapped a thoughtful nail against his chin for a moment, then dismissed that train of thought to focus on what else Samual had to say. The other man appeared to have no great love for his gods – not that Jigano could blame him. And he was glad he had kept his attention on the other man a moment later – both brows rose in surprise and he let his genuine pleasure at the suggestion light his expression.

”Indeed,” he murmured, touched and a little intrigued at what he assumed was an impulsive offer. ”I can write them down myself, but binding pages into proper books isn’t one of my skills, alas. Nor am I much of an artist. But it would be… fun. Yes, fun to work with a friend and colleague on such an endeavor.” He tasted the word, finding it surprisingly apt given his usual pessimism and the ruin his life had become in the last week. ‘Fun’ wasn’t something he’d allowed himself much of in recent years, the weight of his past and the guilt he bore bearing down on him too heavily. His fall to Caido should have been the final stone to break him, but for the first time in years he was feeling almost… hopeful.

”I would be honored to be invited to your home,” he added, giving a slight bow of gratitude. ”Though this place is certainly a good one, too. There’s still so much of it to explore!” He looked around ruefully, glancing back the way they had come and then down the rows of shelves that marched into the darkness. ”I suppose I’ll have to find a place to stay as well soon. I wonder if there are any unused offices or side rooms here I might be able to make use of for awhile…?” He tilted his head at his new friend hopefully, looking to Samuel’s greater familiarity with the place to guide him.

"Everything can be interesting if you write it well enough." Sam insisted, his voice confident in this assertion. The sound of his own certainty surprised him, but he did believe in the statement so he stood by it. Learning about even just the moss of another world was a notion fascinating to him simply because it was alien and new.

Jigano seemed interested in his offer and called him a 'friend and colleague'. Sam could feel a blush creeping up over his face, a flustered smile happening before he could control it.

"W-wonderful! You could come whenever you like. If I am not home, I have um, a stall, in the markets. I'll either be there or at my house. Y-you should be able to ask someone where it is. Say Wordsworth, that's my last name." These instructions given he made a mental note to tidy his small living space. It had, in the last few years of being on his own, become rather cluttered, full of books and curiosities he had found.

He looked about the Atheneum with Jigano, feeling as if he was almost seeing it through new eyes. "...Well, there's probably somewhere in here, but it will be...cold. Most of the Outlanders have taken the ruined houses. I could show you those, if you like? There might be o-one left."

This was, Jigano realized with surprise, the first time he’d heard Samuel speak so confidently and without the nervous stutter, and it was for such an excellent reason that he couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t argue with that,” he acceded quietly, happy to surrender the field to such fervent defense of good authorship.

He didn’t call the ginger bookmaker ‘friend’ lightly, but the word had slipped out more easily than he would have expected given their short acquaintance. He knew so little about the other man, but his mannerisms and sincere hospitality inclined Jigano to proceed with cautious optimism. The flush of pleasure at the appellation certainly made him glad he’d used it, and he felt a pang of concern for his new friend who, perhaps, did not normally make such bonds easily.

“I’ll have to explore the markets more, too,” he admitted cheerfully, fingers dancing through the air as if to pluck together all the threads of things that needed doing. “I sniffed around the edges a bit yesterday but this is the first time I’ve really come properly into the settlement. I was trying to get a feel for the place – and the people – before I made myself known. I wasn’t sure if it was safe to be an ‘outlander’ here.” He gave a little shrug. ”In other places, especially ones that seem more… isolated… strangers aren’t always given a warm welcome.” Even a bard could find himself run out of town for being the ‘wrong kind’ of foreigner.

”But I’d be glad indeed to visit the home of anyone with such an honored name!” He gave the little half-bow again, grin sparkling with approval of the surname ‘Wordsworth.’ ”A far better name than my own. My father took ‘Silversmith’ as our last name when he and my mother migrated to the Northlands, though he preferred working with the starmetals found there.” Another shrug, this one deprecatory. ”Of course, those were hard to come by, and the starforge that gave our town, Torch, its name had a waiting list months long for use, so silverwork formed the backbone of our income when I was a child.” Again that wry grin, the shadows that lurked behind it kept hidden with long practice from his eyes and face.

”I prefer to make my way with silver words and tongue, however, rather than metal and fire. Admittedly, a ruined house sounds less inviting than a mostly-intact library, but the privacy would be better in a less-public building. Perhaps once we’re done here we can take a walk and see what is left? And you can tell me where you own name comes from? I admit, I’m as eager for your stories as you are for mine! So much that you take for granted is new to me, here.”

Sam watched, interested, as Jigano elegantly twirled his fingers in the air when he spoke. It was a kind of careful, curated elegance he had never managed to capture in his own movements, which were often clumsy and awkward.

"Oh, I don't think people will h-hurt you for being an Outlander. There's too many of them for anyone to do that. In the markets people just want someone to buy their things." He had heard some angry whispers here and there from the Naturals, but had never seen anything approaching violence or actual hatred.

Jigano's explanation of his name was just as interesting as the man himself, it seemed. He had little idea of what 'starmetal' was but it sounded simply magical. It would be something write about, at least. His own name was nowhere near as grand as Jigano gave it credit for but he didn't object, too distracted by the story.

"The houses aren't all totally ruined. Maybe you could room with someone." He was hesitant to offer out his own home, but he would if they could not find anything later. "M-my name? Oh, um...I'm not sure. My family didn't really...like to...talk to me. About anything. So I never found out much about it." He didn't seem to realise what a sad thing this was, said it as casually as anything else.

”Too many?” the bard repeated curiously. True, he’d gotten the sense that he wasn’t the only outlander around – hence why he’d gathered the courage to come openly into the settlement at last – but the rumors had managed to overhear while trying to stay out of sight hadn’t been clear on just how ‘normal’ it was for strangers to appear with no warning within the unsettlingly limited confines of the barrier.

The following suggestion of finding a roommate brought a bemused expression to Jigano’s face, and he tilted his head in cautious acknowledgment – though not quite acceptance – of it. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that; rooming with a stranger for more than a night or two at an inn held little charm, but so did spending his time living rough in the woods as a fox. He had found himself in the very embodiment of the ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ situation, lacking so much in the way of resources and, more importantly, knowledge about this new world. Still, he had already found one helpful person who he hoped would become a friend, and by logical extension that meant there might be more.

He wasn’t expecting the offhand description of neglect, much less Samuel’s casual acceptance of it as nothing out of the ordinary. Jigano blinked, taken momentarily aback, but then offered the other man a solemn bow. ”I am sorry for bringing up an unpleasant subject,” he apologized formally. ”But I think it’s a fine name for a bookmaker and a scholar, and it’s one you bear well.” Straightening he offered a smile again, looking to change the subject to something more enjoyable for his new friend. ”But perhaps you can show me your favorite book here? I would appreciate the recommendation of what to read after I finish the history.” He reached back to pat the cover of the large tome they’d just wrangled into place, not noticing how a smaller, slim little volume had somehow shifted itself on top of the large historical book and seemed to be edging closer to his hand whenever both men were looking away.

Sam was surprised when Jigano bowed, gave him a confused frown in response. He was unused to sympathy and politeness. Especially when it came to anything to do with his family, who stayed like permanent shadows in the back of his mind, taunting everything he did. "Oh, it's fine. But...thank you." He replied, happy to have the approval of Jigano regardless. He supposed his name was quite good for his work; he had never particularly thought about it.

He was given a task he felt more than confident in completing. With a grin, Sam stood up and looked around at the shelves surrounding them. "Yes. Wait here."

Stepping away from the table (and not noticing the small book move by itself) he walked off between two shelves, searching for a book he knew had to be nearby; the volumes in this place seemed to move around from day to day, but over time he picked up a general geography of the place. Finding what he wanted, a slim tall book with a dark blue fabric cover, he bought it happily back to Jigano.

Upon arriving back at the table he glanced at the small volume, confused as to whether it had been there before, but didn't mention it, opening the book he held in his hands out on the table. "It's..um. A love story. But it has the most beautiful illustrations and look!" He pointed to a golden, curling sentence written at the top of the page. "The writing is in gold ink. It makes my heart sing. I-It's about a warrior, who has to go to war. But he loves a woman in his home town and doesn't want to leave."