The Library
CW: death, grief, brief references to pain magic
So you want to know more about the library. Probably, how a Scavenger like me ended up with half a block in downtown Rayl. Well, it wasn't always mine. My predecessor was a woman named Cicely. It's a bit of a story, so we might as well go up to my study. Then we can get comfortable.
I met her when I was twenty. Back then, folks still called me The Traveler. The year before, I'd met Florine Shani and almost died tracking down her great-grandmother's notebook. Florine was the person who first told me about all this magic fracturing business. Of course, she also told me that she was immortal, only to die a few days later. But there was something about that notebook. And her convinction to save it. It stuck with me, you know?
I guess I wanted to see if it was true. So I started hunting down books on magic. I mean, I'd always hunted down books on magic. But before I would just grab anything off the shelf--whatever was close at hand--and hope it was useful. Now, I was systematic. I was piecing together a puzzle. And I wanted specific information.
Of course, the kind of information I wanted was usually in hard to find places, like Florine's great-grandmother's notebook. Which posed more questions than it answered, by the way. But that meant dangerous missions and it meant I needed help. Help wasn't too hard to find. I'd gotten my name traveling around and not aligning with any one Scavenger faction. So I had more friends than enemies. But I'd also made a name from picking up a lot of tricks in my travels, and Scavengers don't work for nothing.
That's how I developed my information exchange. Basically, if you want information from me, you trade me for something valuable. Okay, at first, it was the other way around. I was running errands and making tinctures and even stealing other books for the people who could get me close to the information I needed. It was dangerous, but you don't get a nickname without taking a few risks. And the more I collected, the more often I had something I could barter with. Whenever possible, I would copy out the text they wanted, so I didn't have to trade the actual book, but in those early days, it wasn't always an option. I found a place in Rayl to create a secret cache, where I could store everything, and created a waterproof bag to carry my precious cargo before I could return. But the magic I used to protect them took its toll on me, as did the favors I did for others.
In case you haven't figured it out yet, Scavenger magic is dangerous. Not just because we don't study things in a proper order, where we might start with foundational skills to keep bigger workings stable, but because the tinctures we use to imbue ourselves with magic are, themselves, inherently unstable. I guess that's what happens when pain is a primary ingredient in your magic. Use the tinctures too much, and you develop allergies to all number of things, sometimes rare, sometimes unbearably common. I won't waste your time listing off all the things that make me sick. Suffice it to say that eventually, it was all I could do to stumble back to my cache and collapse into a puddle. This is where Cicely found me.
by Artbreeder
I don't know how to describe Cicely, other than to say that she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen... aside from Florine, of course. I never asked her age, but she couldn't have been more than a few years older than me. Heck, she could have been younger. She pulled me and my books out of that puddle and brought me here, to the artists colony.
That's what it was back then. An artists' colony. I didn't know it yet, but Cicely and her partner, Roslyn were Artists and worked the most extraordinary magic you'll ever see on Svene. Roslyn wasn't there at the time, she was out traveling. Cicely told me they were planning to move. To start a new colony somewhere else.
I looked around at the high ceilings and the variety of paintings on the walls. "But why would you ever want to leave this place?" It was the most beautiful building I had ever seen.
"Fresh air. I'm tired of the city. And I don't think I'm the only one. This place has been more and more empty as of late. Still, I refuse to leave it until I know it's in good hands."
Cicely nursed me back to health, and turned one of the studios into a bedroom for me. And since she had saved my life, she asked something of me in return.
"No more tinctures. You have a higher purpose."
"I do."
I told her about Florine, the fracturing of magic, and my meager attempts to piece it back together. I thought for sure she would think I was crazy. But she didn't. Since I was too ill to leave, she found my cache of books and brought them back. Back then, I was so sick, that some days, I couldn't find the energy to walk down the stairs to the dining room. So she graciously put my books on a shelf in her personal studio, and let me spend my time in there, reading.
Days turned to weeks turned to months. My strength returned, and I helped Cicely around the colony. I learned to repair furniture and to garden and to cook for the other artists when they visited. I also learned to appreciate all forms of art. I reveled in the stories each person shared of the world around them, but I no longer ventured into the city myself. I was safe in the colony, and there were too many things outside that might weaken me.
But it seemed that stories of my presence at the colony spread as well. Scavengers began to appear at the door, looking for me. At first, the other artists were disturbed, but Cicely insisted that all were welcome in her space.
They wanted information. Usually normal Scavenger stuff--how to work one type of magic or another. At first, I was reluctant to share. True to my word, I didn't make tinctures anymore, and I didn't want anyone else making the type of mistakes I had. But Cicely believed that the world was made more beautiful the free exchange of information, and I desperately wanted news of the outside world. So I re-enacted my information exchange. I would copy out the information they wanted from my books, and in exchange, they had to contribute to my collection.
At first, I took anything--newspaper clippings, hymnals, hand-drawn maps--but as word spread even further, Scavengers realized I had a particularly unique collection. After that, the more rare the material they sought, the more rare the material I asked for in exchange. And soon Scavengers started to go out of their way to find particular volumes. They would bring me books I'd never heard of and ask me what information they were worth. Or use them as a sort of library card, so they could come back for what they wanted at a later date. Soon, I needed reference materials, just to understand it all. Cicely bought me maps and books on languages, and slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together, just as Florine had suggested.
Over the course of the next year, the number of artists visiting dwindled as the number of Scavengers grew. I barely noticed, as I spent most of my spare hours studying, repairing old books, and copying information. Cicely moved her studio to one of the empty rooms downstairs and I the upstairs room became my permanant study. And the Scavengers gave me a new name. Instead of calling me The Traveler, they began to refer to me as The Librarian.
In her last month at the colony, Cicely began to behave strangely. She coaxed me out of my study for dinners with the last few artists who came by. They would speak of the colony changing, and she asked for their support as these changes occurred. I paid little attention to the conversation, my mind usually occupied with some obscure book. One day Cicely asked me to promise that her studio downstairs always remain a space for artists. I felt guilty that I had stolen hers and asked if she would prefer I move my study, but she assured me the room was better suited to its current purpose. Then she suggested I open a bank account. I had no idea what for. I had no money and I never left the colony. But she insisted, and handled the paperwork for me, depositing a rather large sum of her own funds into the account. She spent more time away during the day, and when she returned home, she retreated to her study to write to Roslyn. Finally, she came one day to the door of my study with a woman I had never seen before, and asked me to come downstairs.
Though I had never met her before, I knew when I saw her that this was Roslyn. Everything from the way Cicely leaned on her to the way she snuck small glances whenever the woman spoke made it clear who Cicely's heart belonged to. For a moment, I was able to see Roslyn through Cicely's eyes, and when I did, I saw pure beauty.
Timothy's Study by Artbreeder
The Building
The library is a brick building in downtown Rayl. The front has high ceilings, and the back is divided into two stories. Where the front meets the back on the inside, there's a balcony that overlooks the main entrance. It's a good lookout to ensure no one is stealing anything. There's a garden around the back, with a high brick wall to close it in. I'm glad for that, and I've become quite the gardener in the last few years. When I just want to observe the birds, I can look at the garden from the balcony connected to my study.
When I first came here, most of the rooms were studios for various artists to work in their different mediums. Since Cicely left, I've lined most of them with shelves. Each room is dedicated to a different topic. And they all have comfy furniture and plenty of light, so anyone who finds their way here can enjoy the space. There's also a copy room, where I repair old books and copy them out. I try to keep two copies of everything, in case someone wants to borrow something.
Fortunately, since Roslyn and Cicely used to live here full time, the place is also a fully functioning house. There's a kitchen, a dining hall, and several bathrooms. Cicely's second studio remains, and I converted her old bedroom into a second. At least one artist comes around every week. They run errands for and ensure I stay well fed. They also keep me company at times when visitors are scarce.
The art colony was a sanctuary, and the Library is no different. The music and dance performances from Cicely's day reinforced its walls. Many of the visual art pieces remain, and they, alongside several of the books create powerful wards that block destructive magic and protect the people within these walls. They also protect things from getting stolen. Try it. See what hapens.
Rayl Art Colony by Artbreeder
by Artbreeder
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