History has its eyes on you

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Books. She is actually looking for books.   Gods, Wessex hasn’t openend a book in… over a decade, maybe? Maybe more? What reason would she have to do so? They don’t have trade magazines here, no one is sending in new information regarding fighting techniques or weapons. There are no catalogues selling merchandise, nothing she hasn’t already read. Anything on strategy she’s already read. The fauna of Caido? Read and experienced. Great Caidonite warriors? None she’s ever heard of, but  if the information wasn’t here before the Bubble came down, all the lore’s been lost. And biographies aren’t really her strong suit… which is ironic, considering her best bet may be in something like that. Or a diary. Did they keep old diaries in here? She wanders in amongst the moonlight, gazing up at the multiple floors, the remnants of the dome. It smells vaguely of mildewing pages, of dust, and information long forgotten. She crinkles her nose a bit. Yum. Unsure of where to begin, the Ascended starts by walking up to the nearest bookshelf and starts reading the titles of whatever she can find, going slowly and methodically so as not to miss anything. Maybe if she returns night after night, she will eventually find what she’s looking for - if it’s even here in the first place. LongNight. She just wants to know about the first LongNight. Something would have had to survive at least 300 years. Less? Ok, let’s say more than sixtysomee-odd years - more than her great-grandmother’s age. Her grandmother taught her mother about LongNight precautions, which means that someone would have had to teach her… Fuck. Wessex shakes her head as she inches along. It’s going to be a long couple of nights.   black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

Books. She was actually reading books! Not well, mind you, and not quickly, but she was reading them. Had been since early afternoon, and somehow time har escaped around Maea while she mouthed her way through page after page with painful slowness. Not aided by her eyes, unaccustomed with the very different form of labor and too ravaged by progressing disease to give her a clear picture of the words. Yet the girl was stubborn and driven by both intrigue and need, and she was certain that somewhere within these books she might find the answer to curing the very affliction that made her task so difficult. A headache had begun to set in however, and soon she would have to return home to feed the animals. With a sigh of regret the girl closed the volume she had been working through - A record of medicinal herbs and their uses - and pushed herself out of the chair. She brought the candle with her as she went to return the book to its proper shelf, mindful of not making a mess, and set off down the row of shelves. When the figure of another visitor came into view however, Maea paused; she knew this person, somewhat, and it felt rude to just pass by without saying something. "Good evening, miss Theskyra" she said, keeping her voice down automatically. Something about the atmosphere in here did not encourage loud noises... Not that it was ever a problem with Maea. "I would not have expected to meet you here..." Wessex Maea Like morning dew Love will come again to you

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Ahhh yes, it’s the albino one. Wessex has always though the girl kind of a freak, but then again, aren’t they all in some way or another? Look at her hands, now - blades shoot out of them on command, and how is that any different than being able to blend in to the snow? Her greeting does give the older woman pause, though, and she has to think back over the years to see if she’s done the Valair family any harm. Aaaaand… not that she can remember. Which, y’know, would make this rather awkward if it had been the opposite. Wessex takes great care to avoid her victim’s families. It just isn’t something she wants to deal with. She gives her a curt nod in greeting. “Maea.” And then the Ascended just kind of slows to a halt and gazes around at the rows of shelving and books and has to admit to herself that she would like some direction, even if it’s just a ‘check the last aisle’ type of thing. “Neither did I,” she says, rather humorously, throwing a cheeky shrug in. “... Neither did I. Hey, are you familiar with this place?” a vague gesture indicates the building, though of course what she means is this area, and these things - the books. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

Maea shrugged slightly, gazing about at the shelves. She had always enjoyed the though of roaming in here, to pick a book and forget about work and time while losing herself in some other world... But unfortunately reading was difficult at best and ever the dutiful daughter, she had never actually rebelled against her role as a farmer. Not until just recently, when the choice was no longer hers to make. "I've started to know my way around, but truth be told I still get lost at times. What are you looking for? Maybe I can help." Not that she had the time, really, or felt altogether comfortable in the company of this formidable woman. Wessex Thermoskyra was everything Maea was not; tall and strong, confident and skilled at her trade in a way the petite girl would never be. The only thing they had in common was the time spent beneath the bubble and a pale complexion, and... well. Where Maea was wan and frail, a ghost gone astray from Ludo's guiding light, Wessex looked more a goddess in her own right. Maea envied that, so much that her insides ached. Even so, she did not want to leave just yet. Maea Like morning dew Love will come again to you

Sam was coming up from an evening's work in the Guildhall, having finally found himself satisfied with his book so far. Delicate gold ink curled around each page and into the names, each curl of the shining vine painstakingly made with a thin brush of a single hair. It was such absorbing work he found it kept a hold on him long after he had put his things away; as he was walking up the stairs to the main Atheneum he did not leave his own thoughts enough to hear the voices. If he'd had any choice in the matter he'd rather not see anyone that night, so as he became aware of the other people around he stopped dead, tried to slowly back up...but it was too late. He had to have been seen. With a sigh Sam walked up to the figures - lovely gentle Maea and horrible, terrifying Wessex. He looked between them and then said after a moment's consideration (wherein he thought of running but didn't want to leave Maea alone): "I'm very familiar with the Atheneum. What is it you are looking for?" Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

WESSEX out of the night that covers me The Lady had said she was the brightest of her bright ones. Whether it’s encouragement or genuine praise almost doesn’t matter, but the Ascended’s ego is big enough to take it as truth. Goddess, no? Just… rejuvenated. More than - but not in a way that makes Maea any lesser than what she already is. She hears him, smells him before Samuel ever comes into view. Fortunately for him, Wessex needs something and she isn’t in a position (that is, there are eyewitnesses) to bully him into helping her. Instead, much to her surprise, he offers to help. She looks between the two smaller people with appraising eyes and it is quite possible that they hear a tone from her they might never have heard before; something, not just neutral, but… passive. Almost kind. Almost. ”I’m looking for the oldest books. Something that might document the first, or some of the first LongNights. A journal? A… history book?” She shrugs, not knowing if what she’s just asked for is ridiculous. Does it even exist, in this ruin shell? What if it had, but molded away fifty years ago? Really, just something to indicate whether or not LongNight started before or after the barrier came down around them. They know the magical bubble has killed hundreds of their people, they know it’s changing their world all the time. But do they know the true extent of it all? Can they stand to know? black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

He was glad for Wessex's non-aggressive tone, let go an empty breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in lungs that didn't work anymore. Even better, he could help with her question. "There is...something. I'm not sure if it's what you need, but..." Sam walked to a shelf near the back of the hall, put his things down and dragged over a stool to stand on. After a moment of precarious balancing and reaching out with his fingertips he had a black book in his hands, which he brought to Wessex. The book was a dusty black with the scrawling words 'Long Night' on the front. Inside Wessex would find writing, but not any kind of words she could understand; the language was strange and unknowable. "I don't know how to translate it." Sam admitted. "But it could help you?" Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

Sam came to her rescue. Maea smiled gratefully at him, glad for the aid as well as the company. She could probably have left at this point, but curiosity had her tagging along as the ginger led the way down the shelves and brought down a heavy looking old tome for Wessex. Intrigued by the age of the manuscript, Maea lined in to gaze in squinty eyed awe at the pages, her failing eyes straining to make out the scrawl. "I've never seen words like that before either" she supplemented unhelpfully. "But maybe there is a key somewhere? A book with translation, or something that could help decipher the text?" Looking hopefully at the myriad of books around them, Maea couldn't quite set aside the awe she still held for books. It felt s though they held all the knowledge in the world, and could magically hold the solution to just about any problem. If only she could see properly, and read better... she did not doubt for a second that an answer could be found in here. Maea Like morning dew Love will come again to you

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Wessex waits patiently while Samuel scuttles off down the stacks. After Maea starts to follow, she takes a step to follow, but then hesitates. It feels too much like Sam’s space, like an area she shouldn’t be in, with all the blood she’s had on her hands. It smells… like books back there. A vague recollection of her schooling pops into her mind, but even then, the elder Theskyra girl had always been more interested in rough housing than paying attention to the teacher. When her fellow Ascended bring the black book back to her, Wessex takes it gently, able to read ‘LongNight’ (funny how some words haven’t changed!), but a cursory flip through tells her that, indeed, everything else is alien. A soft, slightly frustrated sigh slips through her lips and her brows furrow in concentration. “No, I can’t read it either. But - ” she says with a tap of a finger on the cover. “There is a shrine to The Lady in the Atheneum, isn’t there? If no one else can read it?” She isn’t sure she wants to bother The Lady with something so trivial… particularly when she’d been told not to engage the LongNight monsters in her promise. Nevertheless… wouldn’t they all like to know how it began? If that is indeed what is written the book. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

Sam was surprised by how gently Wessex took the book from him, having come to expect her to rip it from his hands and kick him in the stomach at the same time (perhaps he had a slightly over-active imagination when it came to how people could hurt him). "I suppose we could take it to The Voice, but..." He trailed off, belatedly realising that suggesting The Voice may not be able to read the text either could likely be close to blasphemy for someone who actually valued their Ascension. "...Well, yes. We could take it to the shrine. I don't think she would mind us asking her for help." He turned to Maea. He knew that as an Abandoned she would likely not be welcomed by The Voice. "You don't...have to come, Maea, if you don't want." He said this with a gentle smile, making it clear it was meant to be a kindness and not a dismissal. Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

The shrine was something Maea had not been aware of, and the suggestion of speaking to The Voice made her stomach clensh, the hairs at the back of her neck rising in sudden chill. Sam offered her a chance to leave, and every fiber in her wanted to take it and run. She had always prayed to the Old Gods, been taught to fear the New ones and avoid anything that might draw their attention. But... But she was a loreseeker now. Sure, Sam could account for what happened too, but... two pairs of eyes and two pairs of ears was better, right? It was her duty to stay, and learn, and look at the world objectively. "If you don't think my presence would deterr her from coming... I'll stay. To bear whitness," she heard herself say, and swallowed. Maybe an Abandoned in the company would prevent her from showing up. Maybe nothing would happen after all... Maea found herself hoping,  treacherously, that nothing would. Oh Ludo, what am I getting myself into now? Maea Like morning dew Love will come again to you