"And what would humans be without love?"
RARE, said Death."
― Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
It was Therion of course that stole the book and that act marked the first odd event of the evening.
It had caught his eye immediately on the travelling merchants cart, although it was not the usual kind of thing that would attract him. He could see no value in the small leather volume, attractive though it was in its deep burgundy leather binding, chased with gold tooling. It was slim but an awkward shape for thievery, not easy to fit in a pocket or up a sleeve and yet the compulsion to take it proved too much. The Thief found himself ignoring the brightly coloured and gemmed jewellery laid out on velvet pillows that would normally have piqued his interest and instead lifted the little tome - an act that overwhelmed him with an enormous sense of wellbeing once the deed was actually done.
The second oddness of the night was that the book was the only thing that Therion stole. Once the nefarious action was achieved the Thief crept back to the Inn - sneaking into the room he was sharing with Cyrus, Alfyn and Olberic. Alone, he sat himself by the hearth and took the book into his hands, running his fingers over the soft leather and trying to make out the wording on the binding. It was a language unknown to him but his fingers traced the gold lettering almost reverently as he tried to sound out the foreign words. Next Therion attempted to open the book and found that he couldn't - it was like the entire thing was stuck together with glue. With a puzzled frown the Thief tried force, then even his dagger to free the pages - but nothing worked.
Sitting back on his heels, Therion pondered the situation. A completely irrational frustration began to bubble in his chest, a realisation that for some unknown reason he had wasted his time on a useless broken book rather than gaining himself a pretty profit by swiping his usual gems and trinkets. With an embittered groan, he chucked the book at the wall resentfully just as the door to the room opened and Olberic came in. The warrior's attention was caught on the book as it hit the wall with a thud. Instinctively Olberic had reached for his sword, his keen eyes scoping the room intently.
After a few seconds determining that there was no immediate threat, Olberic sheathed his sword again and walked carefully over to where the volume lay.
'Yeah, sorry about that.' Therion said lazily, but the warrior ignored him completely picking up the little tome in one of his huge meaty paws. Turning it over, Olberic suddenly smiled to himself.
'For King and Country.' He murmured, his eyes sweeping the cover. Humming to himself he unbuckled his weapons and his armour with practised ease then settled himself in the only armchair in the room and opened the cover. Therion's eyes widened. Firstly he had never seen the Knight actually read something by choice and secondly - how the hell had the big man actually managed to open the damned thing in the first place?
'Hey Olberic,' Therion's voice was dripping sarcasm. 'Thought you only read the fear in your opponent's eyes..' he had gotten up and gone to look over the Knight's shoulder, his curiosity as to what was in the book greater than his frustration that Olberic had been able to access it.
Once again Therion's words were ignored or maybe not heard since the warrior was already thoroughly engrossed in the tome. The thief could immediately see why. The pages on display were a riot of colour - a full glorious rendition of a very realistic battle scene - so honest in its depiction you could almost smell the blood and sweat and hear the sharp metallic twang of weapon hitting weapon. Actually - you could hear it.. smell it.. feel it.. the picture was moving!
'Bloody hell!' Therion breathed, leaning on the Knight's shoulder. 'That's... amazing!'
Olberic looked mesmerised. 'I remember this battle.' He murmured softly, caught up in the visual wonder, a thick finger stroking absently at a character in the middle of the action.
Therion peered closer. 'Ohh wow.. that's you!' he breathed, but quickly noted that the actual figure that had captivated the Knight's attention was the man by Olberic's side, the two fighting back to back, protecting each other instinctively. The blond flowing hair and the sheer fluidity of his fighting easily marked the stranger as Erhardt, Olberic's brother-Knight and eventual betrayer.
'That's some bloody skill,' Therion whistled in awe. 'The two of you fighting together..well, I'd heard the legends but..'
Olberic didn't answer, his tear filled eyes fixed firmly on the page. The unexpected danger came swiftly and it's source was lost in the mayhem surrounding the two Knights. An arrow swept across the scene, as if it came in from outside the book. Without a thought Erhardt roughly shouldered Olberic aside and took the arrow solidly in his own arm, the impact forcing his sword from his hand and the man to fall to his knees. Quickly Olberic was standing over companion, driving off the enemy that Erhardt had been engaged with and then stooping to check on his fallen friend.
It took an heroic effort to get the blond Knight to his feet and stagger with him to the sidelines of the fighting, the picture moving slowly with their progress so that they were always at the centre of the page. When they reached relative safety they both collapsed down in an entanglement of limbs and rested briefly together - the adrenaline still rushing through both of them. For the briefest of seconds before the healers caught up to them their eyes met and even to Therion, an observer only, the emotion that passed between them in that second was overpoweringly passionate.
The picture started to gray slowly, its colours melting away until finally the page was a white blankness.
'I loved him then.' Olberic whispered. 'With all that came later, it's easy to forget that. Yet in my heart, God's forgive me.. I still do.' The Knight dropped the book as he fell into silent sobbing, the tears running freely down his face.
Silently Therion gripped Olberic's shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of comfort, then picked up the book and left the room, leaving the Knight to his bittersweet memories.
In the corridor outside, Therion found to his dismay that the book had reverted back to being unreadable and stuck together like a simple block of paper. He felt slightly cheated. He had been the one to steal it after all.. why would it not work for him? Sourly he decided to go and find Cyrus. If anyone could work out it's magic it would be the Scholar.
Therion started to make his way towards the stairs to go down to the residents lounge where he would be sure to find Cyrus reading at this late hour when Primrose appeared walking quickly along the passage towards him. There was little room in the narrow way and the Dancer did not seem to be slowing her step to allow them to pass without collision. Therion reflectively threw himself against the wall as she came close, dropping the book and then exclaiming in surprise when Primrose seemed to walk right through him rather than bump into him.
Paying no attention to the bamboozled Thief, Primrose noticed the book that had fallen at her feet. She looked around in confusion and bent to pick it up.
'The recollections of Geoffrey Azelhart.' Primrose actually fell backwards in her shock and slumped on the floor, her back against the wall. She already had the book open and was staring slack jawed at its pages by the time Therion had pulled his wits back together and bent down next to her - reaching out a tentative hand to her arm. Although she did not react to his touch she felt as solid and real as usual.
'Alright. That's pretty odd.' Therion declared, sitting next to the dancer to stare over at the page she had opened.
While the picture on the page was certainly less frenetic than Olberic's had been it was none the less detailed or emotive for that fact. A handsome older man was sat watching a child.. Primrose?.. dance in a beautiful and resplendent room, his foot tapping a beat to the steps that she was making. While the dance was nothing like the seductive and graceful performances that Primrose made these days, there was a sweet and innocent poignancy in the effort and the concentration on the child's determined face.
The momentum came to a crashing end when Primrose fell suddenly after mistiming a twirling jump. She was back to her feet instantly, her face scrunched in anger and she quickly picked up where she left off finishing her routine and coming to a stop in front of her father.
'Well done Primrose.' Geoffrey Azelhart had a commanding voice, but it was soft when he spoke to his daughter.
'I fell.' Primrose's anger at herself was evident.
'But you got up child, and you completed your dance.' Geoffrey, nodded gravely. 'When you fall Primrose, it is always important to make sure that learn from your mistake and you carry on. Faith. Belief that you can reach your goal. You make me proud girl.'
Primrose nodded seriously. 'Because faith is our shield father.' She agreed.
The man chuckled. 'You learn quickly my dear. It is the most important lesson of them all for us Primmy.. I have faith in you and your continuation of our family honour. In this you are all I could have ever hoped for.'
'I will never let you down.' Primrose dropped a curtsey at her father.
'My serious and passionate girl.' Geoffrey reached out to take the child in his arms. 'I love you flower.' He smiled as the picture started to fade from the page.
Therion expected to see tears on Primroses face, but he was surprised at the keen flash of pride in her eyes, and the determined smile on her face.
'I will never let you down father.' She reiterated, reaching for the jewelled dagger that she always carried, putting the book down by her side as she drew it. 'Faith is my shield.' She added fiercely.
Silently Therion picked up the book, a sense of awe at the strength of the girl who was getting to her feet and making for the room that the girls were sharing. 'What the hell' Therion thought with a shrug, following close behind her and slipping into the room before the door shut. He was curious enough being to want to see what the book held for the other woman too.
H'aanit was sat next to Linde by the fire, a brush in her hand grooming her feline companion who was almost kitten-like at the attention. Interestingly when Therion entered the only reaction he got was from the snow leopard who raised its huge head at him and looked at him enquiringly.
'Clever girl.' Therion went and scratched the leopards head whilst subtly dropping the book at H'aanit's feet.
The Huntress noticed the tome immediately.
'Looken Linde,' she said quietly to the beast. 'Howeth to care for thou Snow Leopard.' I should taken a look and see'eth if I hast been caring for thee properly.' With a chuckle H'aanit opened the book and her eyes immediately lit up in delight. 'Oh, Linde!' she exclaimed, bringing the pages down so that the cat - and Therion - could see.
It was unbelievably adorable. Presumably H'aanit as a small child, her little fat braids and mini fur outfit absolutely screaming cute to an extreme that had Therion laughing in delight. Linde was obviously still a kit, her paws ridiculously large for her body and her ears almost bigger than her head, she was frolicking ungracefully around the woodland glade with the mini-huntress in pursuit, the two playing a game that only they knew the rules too.
The grizzled, hard man and the enormous dire wolf that looked over them also had large grins on their faces as the babes played.
'Thou needest to instil some discipline Hany!' the man called helpfully when the two zoomed close past him. 'Else thy cat whilst thinken thou a playmate rather than a mistress.'
H'aanit skidded to a halt at his words. 'I thinken Linde shouldst be a companion, rather than me be her mistress.' The child said seriously.
'That ist a dangerous line to taketh with a cat!' Z'aanta grinned at his charge. 'Ist mine experience that a cat believeth itself to be in charge at all times anyway!'
Linde pounced playfully at the man's hand. He laughed and roughly knocked the kit onto its back scratching at its belly. Linde meowed fiercely whilst Hagan sat by his master's feet, tongue lolling as if he too were laughing at the sight of the kit's indignity.
'Linde whilst be my friend.' H'aanit pronounced with pride, her pose utterly ridiculous in its sweetness.
'Aye child, if there ist any that could win the heart of a cat, it wouldst be you.' Z'aanta agreed pulling the child to him with his other hand, hugging her tight.
'Thou hast always been mine truest friend Linde.' H'aanit had put the book down to embrace the cat tightly with both arms. 'Thy love and companionship hast been the mainstay of my heart dear one.' She added, burying her face into the cat's soft fur revelling in the deep-throated purr the feline used to rumble her agreement.
Therion was looking over at Tressa with a grin on his face. 'If the picture for this one isn't a huge pile of leaves, I shall eat that stupid hat she wears.' He thought to himself.
Tressa was writing in her diary, so Therion literally threw the purloined book at her forcibly to gain her attention. Picking it up the girl grinned as she read the title. 'The value of items' Therion read alongside her.
In fact, it was good that Therion's bet with himself had not been overheard for when the Merchant opened the tome, the picture that presented itself was of the Colzione's shop in Rippletide, and Tressa, not much younger than she was now was stood with her father looking proudly at the well stocked shelves.
'What do you see Tressa?' her father asked her his hand on his daughters shoulder.
'Profit!' the girl said heartily. Her father chuckled.
'Indeed!' he agreed squeezing her arm. 'But what of the items. You have a merchant's eye child. Tell me - what do these things show you.'
Tressa looked up at the man thoughtfully. Her hand moved to the feather in her hat and she stroked at it as she often did when considering a situation.
'Each thing has a worth to someone.' She said carefully. 'It is not just the sum of its component parts, but rather an entire tale of where it has come from, where it is going and what it will mean to the purchaser.'
'Explain Tressa. Tell me - what item do you own that means the most to you?'
The merchant thought carefully again. She considered the jewellery that she had been given, the precious trinkets that had come her way over numerous birthdays. Then she smiled.
'I think it must be my hat father.' She said seriously.
Her father squeezed her arm again. 'Why would that be?' he said with a smile.
'Well...' Tressa was on firmer ground with this question. 'You gave it to me when you were finally happy that I was ready to be considered a merchant. It was sitting on the peg in the house for years waiting for that time. I remember getting it down on many an occasion, filled with the desire to earn the right to wear it. It represents your trust in me and my ability.'
'Yet you have many other possessions that are more valuable, and certainly more beautiful.' Her father pointed out.
'None that have more meaning to me though.' She said firmly.
'A merchant indeed Tressa.' Her father smiled broadly at her. 'Every item that passes through your hands should be respected for what it is and what it may be. If you can always give that respect then you will always find the right buyer and the best price. The price of course is how we keep score.' He added with a wink.
Therion started to feel a little bit uncomfortable. He had relieved so many people of so many items over the years. He couldn't help but the thought that some of those may have been important to his victim. No wonder the little Merchant often looked down on his thieving ways. Sadly he picked up the book that she had put back down to begin scribbling again in her diary - a huge grin on her face.
Therion let himself out of the room, nobody but Linde seeming to notice his passing. He walked heavily down the stairs, hoping that Cyrus would be able to see him and relieve him of this enchantment of invisibility he seemed to be under.
The resident's lounge was empty of all but the Scholar when Therion entered and Cyrus immediately looked up, almost sniffing at the air. His eyes didn't settle on Therion himself but it was obvious he could sense the sudden intrusion of magic into the room. Hoping for the best, and admittedly curious as to what the book would show to Cyrus, Therion dropped the book on the table beside the man's comfortable chair from a height so that it banged as it landed.
Cyrus' face turned thoughtful as he reached out towards the book that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He put down the larger tome that he had been perusing and touched a light finger on the smaller and more delicate one. His brow immediately creased in puzzlement and he gently picked up the book, bringing it close to his face to sniff at it. His eyes widened and his brain seemed to be whirring with indecision. In the end his curious nature won out and he opened the book.
Before Therion was able to get a look at the pages, Cyrus's eyes had flown wildly open and a look of almost shock was plastered to his face. He slammed the book shut one handed and he chewed at his bottom lip. Carefully he placed the book back down on the table and rubbed at his chin. Therion was just about to reach for the book himself to see if he could open it to see whatever had so alarmed the Scholar, when the door opened again and Ophilia made her way in with two mugs.
'Tea, Professor.' She said handing him a mug and then drawing up a stool to his feet and settling herself on it.
Cyrus opened his mouth as if to speak but no words came out. He kind of nodded at the girl who looked up at him quizzically.
'Is everything alright Professor?' she asked, a little worried by his manner.
'I..yes..yes.. fine my dear..' Cyrus stumbled over his words. 'Thank you.' He added motioning the drink.
There was a silence as they both took sips at their hot beverages.
'Ophilia..' Cyrus finally said hesitantly. 'I have been wondering, You have always brought me tea and chided me about getting proper rest of an evening, but for a while now you have stayed to talk instead. What.. I mean.. why do you.. I..'
Ophilia smiled fondly up at his question. 'When I brought your tea you always engaged me in conversation.' She said simply. 'It seemed rude to ignore you and I got tired of simply standing to wait until you finished.'
'I see.' He said heavily. 'You should have told me - I had no wish to..'
'Oh no Professor, I enjoy these chats.' Ophilia looked earnestly at him. 'I have found that in the quiet we are able to properly discuss the day and what you have studied and it is quite wonderful to learn all of the new things that you have discovered. My own experience of learning in the Church was very unfulfilling, you were told things and never encouraged to question. Sadly I am very inquisitive and rather given to imagination.'
'Yes you are.' Cyrus chuckled. 'It is quite endearing.'
'It marks how wonderful a teacher you are that you can manage so troublesome of a student.' She added smiling back at him.
'No my dear.' He said seriously. 'You are nothing like a student. Your insight is quite inspirational. You manage to find the humanity in each subject that we discuss and breathe real life into learning. Your perspective always gives me pause to think more fully - I truly appreciate your time.'
There was silence again as they looked at each other. Therion began to feel slightly uncomfortable.
'So,' Ophilia said standing up to place her finished mug on the table. 'What is it that you have been looking at today?' She picked up the large book that Cyrus had been studying, handing it to him. He looked at the tome in confusion as if he hadn't ever seen it before.'
'Oh,' he replied. 'This. Well, there are a number of depictions of battle strategies that are quite interesting. Would you like to.. I mean.. if you sit here.. with me.. we can look at them together.' He couldn't quite meet her eye.
Ophilia's eyebrows raised slightly, but she tentatively sat down on his lap as he indicated. He threaded his arm under hers so that he could hold the book in front of them both and opened the book, flicking through the pages.
After a fair amount of flicking Ophilia put her hand on the book firmly.
'Professor.. I must confess that I am a little distracted.' She said quietly.
'Oh! Of course.. I apologise Ophilia, you must be uncomfortable..' he put the book down and opened his arms so that she could rise.
'No Professor. I'm not uncomfortable.' She said softly, turning slightly to gaze up at him. 'Quite the opposite in fact.'
'I see.' Cyrus swallowed hard and blinked rapidly. He wound one arm around her waist and brought his other hand gently to her cheek. 'I wonder Ophilia if I might be so bold..'
She cut off his question bringing her lips to his gently. 'You may.' She agreed.
Therion was blushing fiercely. Clearing his throat he picked up his book and turned to the door, walking rapidly away. As he did the book flipped open and just as it was starting to disappear he saw the exact scene in its pages that he had just witnessed. He barked a laugh at the image. No wonder the Professor had looked so scared when he had seen it himself.
Therion however still had a problem. He seriously doubted that Cyrus was going to be able to help him for a while yet. Still, he was a Thief.. and there were certainly times when he had wished that he was actually invisible. Maybe this was just too good an opportunity to miss.
With new found optimism, Therion made his way to the front door of the Inn and pushed his way through.
'Hey mate!' Alfyn was sat on a bench outside the building and looked up as the Thief had exited.
'You can see me?' Therion asked, looking around to see if someone had followed him out.
'Course I can see you dope. What did you think, you were invisible or something?' Alfyn smirked.
'Or something.' Therion agreed, taking a pew next to the Apothecary.
'What's that?' Alfyn pointed at the book in Therion's hands. 'The book of Love?' Really? I didn't have you down for a romantic.' Alfyn was chuckling now, and laughed harder at Therion's scowl.
'Funny Alf. Don't you wanna have a look at it?' Therion offered the slim tome out.
'Not me my friend. I'd rather learn my loving from experience than a book.' Alfyn said easily. 'Not that I need any tips..' he added waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
'What you doing out here anyway?' Therion grumped, trying to move the conversation along.
'Heh. Well.. I guess you got me there bud.' Alf's laughter turned to a broad smile. 'I often sit out of a night when you're running about plying your trade. My head is constantly running over whether you might be caught or hurt and it ain't good for getting to sleep. Course I go in before you get back. Wouldn't want you to think I was going soft on you now would I?'
'Are you having a laugh?' Therion scowled at the Apothecary who just chuckled again.
'Maybe I am, but maybe I ain't.' He said annoyingly, ruffling at Therion's hair and receiving a thump on the arm for his trouble. 'Heh well, it's still early. I didn't realise you were already inside. Tavern's still open. You fancy getting some beer and telling me all about what you learned from that book of yours.'
Therion considered, looking down at the tome. He could clearly see the title for the first time. 'The Book of Love.' He flicked it open curiously. The first page he came too was completely blank. No surprises there, Therion didn't have anything he loved - no emotional little panorama for him. He turned the pages over, seeing the snapshots of the other's that he had witnessed earlier.
Olberic's continued love despite betrayal and the hurt that it caused, Prim's familial love and her devotion to her cause, H'aanit's love for her friend and companion and Tressa's love of her job and the respect for the items that she dealt in. Then there was the new love, between Cyrus and Ophilia. Therion considered that he now knew his companions.. no.. his friends just that little bit better.
He looked up at Alf who was watching him with a curious smile.
'So yeah,' Therion thought - his own page was blank, but perhaps that meant there was a chance that it might be filled with.. something .. someday. This love shit might have something going for it after all.
'Beer?' Alfyn queried again, impatiently.
Therion put the book down on the bench and stood up.
'Only if you're buying.' He grouched ambling towards the Apothecary.
'Right.. cause it's like I ever have any leaf!' Alfyn laughed hooking his arm around Therion's shoulders.
'I'd better steal some then hadn't I.' The Thief grinned.