Partisan Saga, Chapter X - Mourning of the Nightmare: A Reality

            He looked at them with the smile customary of a child who knew he had received something good, but had not quite yet decided the benefit of such; his eager grin revealed too shiny, too white teeth, and to Dorian, it gave the impression that he had not decided whether to use them or to eat them. A glance to Kev suggested he pondered the same thoughts.
            “So rigid, boys!” he crowed. “Relax! We’re all buds here.” Here, he flicked a sharp nailed finger in Kev’s direction. “Even you, little buddy! What’s your name?”
            Kev stiffened.
            “That would be Kevin, milord,” Dor interjected. “He’s my Chaptermate.”
            His eyes tracked to Dorian, and a scowl flickered across his face, but both came and left with the haste of the dim light that sputtered much the same.  Dorian took the hint.
            “Ah, so you’re Dory’s pal, huh?” the smile brightened; so did the light. “Welcome, good sir, my fine gentleman!”
            “Thank you, lord…?” Kevin broke off.
            “Me?” He sat up, almost startled; the light was flickering again. He pointed one finger at himself. “Oh, me.” He cut his eyes at Dorian again. “Dory, why didn’t you tell this good fellow my name?”
            Dorian replied, calm and dry as he could muster. “Milord, you did not seem interested in my introductions.”
            “I see.”
            A moment of silence passed. Silence, save for the rough sound of hewn wood, as their superior carved aimlessly into his desk with the nail on his pinky finger.
            “This is Lord Eddachte,” Dorian said finally.
            Eddachte sprang to life immediately after, the picture of joviality. “Right-o, Dory.” To Kevin, he added: “Again, welcome. So very good of you to come. Call me Edd.”
            “Thank you, Lord Eddachte,” Kevin dipped his head. Dorian could see him trembling, and didn’t blame him at all.
            “You aren’t staying though!”
            “I-I’m sorry?”
            “Dory, word in the halls is you took Kevvy here through.” His eyes narrowed.
            Dorian nodded. “I thought it wise to—”
            “Wise? Brilliant!” The lights flared, then flickered as Eddachte’s nails thundered upon the desk. Both Black and White flinched. “We could use a little intersexing,” He cackled.
            Dorian and Kevin glanced at each other.
            “Word is, you’ve also been in a Sermon, right Dory?”
            Dorian nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
            “Don’t be shy, Dory. There’s no harm.”
            “Yes,” Dorian replied. “I attended a Sermon.”
            “There it is!” Eddachte clapped like a child, clumsy and excited. The look in his eyes betrayed him.  “You two are great, really.”
            “Milord, the mission?”
            The dead eyes remained. “Have Kevvy take you to see Erdylor. Best behavior.”
            Dorian bowed, deep. “And for you, milord?”
            “For me? You shouldn’t have!”
            Dorian and Kevin exchanged a second glance.
            “I was asking if we had any other task to perform for you.”
            In disbelief, Eddachte sat up and drove all ten nails into the desk. “I told you what to do, didn’t I?”

***

            They shuffled from the office into the halls of the Black. Only with the safety of more than a few corridors between themselves and Eddachte did Dorian speak.
            “How are you feeling, Kev?”
            “Never better, ‘Dory’.”
            “Are you mad?”
            “No, Dor, not at all.” He even let the silence hang in the air for half a second. “How could I be? Who wouldn’t want to be dragged before the Superiors of another sect, lambasted, questioned…”
            “Lambasted?” Dorian shook his head. “It wasn’t that bad, Kev.”
            “Wasn’t that bad?” Kevin protested. “You saw the look on his face! He’s got a few screws loose for sure!”
            “Yeah, he does,” Dorian admitted. “But it’s complicated.”
            “Seems pretty straightforward to me,” Kevin disagreed. “See, this is why the Whites take issue. Even your leaders are nuts.”
            Dorian thought a moment. “Almonds or cashews?”
            “What does that have to do with anything?!”
            “That’s the whole point, Kev. You don’t think there are nuts in the White?”
            “Name one.”
            “Fucus.”
            “You’re off your rocker.”
            “You can’t see it. Like I said, Kev. Almonds, cashews.”

            A return to White halls did Dorian no favors; he found himself feeling almost as uncomfortable as Kevin had looked in Black. The stern gazes they received from his Chaptermate’s brethren did not help matters, though Dorian thought he saw some unease on Kev’s part as well. Did they think poorly of him as well, in light of recent events?
            It didn’t matter. They had business now in the White, and anyone who had a problem with it would end up talking about such with the council, one way or another. This suited Dorian just fine; until he noticed that Kev remained in that discontented, discomforted state, even among his own halls. As the pair neared the office district, and the corridors, once broad and open, narrowed to signify such, the reasons for Kev’s mood became more apparent.
            “Erdylor…” Dorian sounded it out. “That’s an odd name.”
            Kevin shrugged.
            “Is he anything like Eddy?”
            “She,” Kev corrected. “And anything but.”
            Dorian nodded. “We’ll see.”
            “You will.”

            The reached the office, and as Kevin lifted his hand to knock upon the door, it drifted open. On the other side stood a beautiful luminescent creature. Her wide and bright blue eyes shone with a gentle warmth, and her smile erased any misgiving Dorian might have had. In fact, he found himself smiling back at her in spite of himself.
            “Welcome,” she beamed in a sweet and soothing voice.
            “Thank you.” Kevin dipped his head some. “We’ve been given orders to see Erdylor.”
            Dorian stiffened.
            “Is she in?”
            “Of course, Kevin of the White,” the woman beamed again, then turned to Dorian with the most adorable tilt of her head, and in a perfectly musical voice, asked: “And who are you, good sir?”
            “Dorian of the Black.”
            For half a second, he thought he saw something else then; but then the beautiful attendant was before him, directing them forward with a perfect smile and immaculate posture.

            The office was bigger than it looked from the outside,apparently bisected by a thick curtain that obscured the space beyond. Richly decorated with crimson and gold furnishings. Plush chairs, silken ribbons and drapes, and the framed works of art all forced an air of luxury; it was not quite to Dorian’s taste, but he could appreciate the thought. Less tolerable, the presence of a second attendant, every bit as pure and pretty as the first. Dorian’s blood froze for the second time.
            “What is it, Dor?” Kevin asked.
            “Are you not seeing this?!” Dorian whispered. He twitched his head back toward the door lady, and then the attendant before them. She tilted her head some, and the smile dipped.
            Kevin shrugged. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
            She led them forward with a smile and no words, though the Black Librarian might not have moved without prompting from his White companion.
            They proceeded into the following chamber, which had been designed with a more conservative luxury in the form of deep brown and mahogany furnishings. As with the previous chamber, the only jarring feature involved additional attendants; four in this case. One for each of the corners, their gleaming presence bringing an otherworldly feel to the otherwise mundane atmosphere.
            A heavy desk took the center of the space, nearly as flawless as the beings they had thusfar encountered. The woman behind the desk, however, did not shine with such luminance. She was beautiful, to be sure, but she did not radiate perfection; in fact, the deadness in her eyes and the muted expression upon her face reminded Dorian of a different leader among the Libraries. She met his eyes, and as she did so, Dorian could feel rather than see a disturbance in the entities that graced the room; their light paled for half a second, and there might have been frowns upon their faces.
            “You must be Dorian,” she said.
            Dorian dipped his head. “That is correct.”
            She lost interest. “Kevin. You accompanied Dorian into the Black Library? Into the Southern Lights?”
            “Well,” Kevin’s confidence had apparently failed to pass through the curtain with them; he kept his eyes on the floor. “I did not enter the lights myself, Ma’am. But I did witness them.”
            Now, her gaze shifted to Dorian once again, though she continued directing her words to her subordinate. “And what did you make of such a place?”
            If she were looking for some sort of reaction from Dorian, he did not intend to give it. He kept his eyes on hers, his face straight, blank.
            “I’m not sure, if I am being honest,” Kev admitted.
            “Be honest,” she told him. “Tell me your thoughts. No harm will come to you, regardless of your opinion.”
            “Well,” Kevin glanced to Dorian; the Black, facing forward, did not meet his eyes. “It was strange. Beautiful, but strange. It looked to me to be a mess of beautiful things over black smoke.”
            If she were upset with him, it didn’t show. If she were satisfied, it didn’t show. Dorian did his best to match her unconcern.
            “Forgive me for speaking out of turn,” he said. “You are Erdylor?”
            “I am,” she told him. Her gaze returned to Kevin. “And I have heard from Fucus that you did take Dorian to a sermon of his.”
            “I did.”
            She did not ask Dorian what he thought, as he had half expected. It smelt funny. “Kevin, you are not the first White to see the Southern Lights, nor the first to bring a Black into one of our assemblies. However, your willingness to do these things is proof of your humility, your compassion, and most importantly, your potential as a Librarian.”
            “Thank you for the kind words,” Kevin dipped his head.
            “Now more than ever, you need direction.” Here, she glanced to Dorian. “Since you are so fortunate to be his Chaptermate, you shall accompany him in this regard.”
            “If you think I am ready,” Dorian replied.
            Erdylor’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit. “It is inevitable that those of the Black fall short of what this world truly needs. However, in special cases where one among you can find grace in our sermons, or has the presence of mind to parade their customs upon the White, we find some use. Properly groomed by Kevin here, you will make something of yourself.”
            Getting a rise out of the White had not been nearly as enjoyable as Dorian had expected. Now he bit his tongue; he told himself it was less about being beaten, and more out of respect for his Chaptermate, who glanced back and forth between them in the wake of the exchange. When Dorian made nothing of the challenge, Erdylor continued.
            “Rejoice, the both of you. Today you will be taken among the highest points in the city, and from there, the true mission of any who would call themselves Librarians will be made clear to you. You will understand why we call upon you to use your talents, and in whichever manner best suited to your capacity.”

***

            They followed another of Erdylor’s attendants through the halls of the White until they reached a lift that would take them aboveground. Unlike many of the other elevators and secret passages Dorian had used to enter or exit the Library, this particular elevator had actually seen use by mundanes, made apparent by the buttons for various floors- far too many for any building entirely below the surface.
            “This lift, and the skyscraper that housing it belongs to the White Library,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.
            Dorian nodded, stroking his chin in thought. Finally: “Do you have your own mind?”
            “Dor!” Kevin prostested.
            “What?” Dorian asked. It’s an honest question.” He turned to the attendant. “You aren’t offended, are you?”
            She addressed Kevin first with a gentle smile. “Do not be alarmed. It is a fair question. Then, She stared at Dorian; the joyful countenance that had been borne by the others did not appear to exist with this one. “We are Erdylor, and we are not,” she said. “In fact, we are not so different from you.” She turned toward the doors again, and for a time, only the occasional beep of a passed floor carried them through the silence.
            While he pondered her words, Dorian examined their guide’s back; each of them had worn glimmering garments, cloth that glowed nearly as much as their skin. This made determining the boundary between flesh and fabric impossible. Their backs, however, were exposed, and upon the shoulderblades of this one, Dorian could make out numerous dimples.
            “Will you explain that to me?” He asked finally.
            She turned, and she smiled again, but this smile had spoiled. “You know well what I mean, Dorian of the Black. You are… Just. Like. Me.”
            “I beg to differ,” Dorian disagreed. “I have my mind. You, on the other hand, seem to share so much with your ‘sisters’ as to be indistinguishable as a unique individual.”
            “This is the trouble with Black Librarians,” She said. “They believe that the individual is superior to the whole. It is that mindset, the having of one’s own mind, that has led to this hell mortals call earth.”
            Dorian ignored the jab. “So then you don’t. Have your own mind, I mean.”
            “We do, in fact. We are all individuals.”
            “What’s your name, then?”
            “It doesn’t matter.”
            “It does to me,” Dorian said, and he meant it, in spite of the challenge, and the difference.
            “You would waste your frail life placing importance upon a name, rather than devote your being to a higher power, a greater cause.”

            The elevator had reached the top floor, and the final ‘ding’ announcing such seemed to hang in the air.

            To Dorian, she said: “You value your freedom and your sense of self, but it blinds you.” She turned to Kevin. “You value your friendship, so you strive to see the darkness. In summation, you have both erred. One by nature, the other through compassion.”
            Dorian clenched his fists; Kevin swallowed a lump in his throat.
            “You are here to look upon the city as the Highest of Librarians do… to see with pure and unfettered vision. To think the true and correct thoughts.”
            The elevator doors pulled open.
            “Do not let this lesson be wasted.”