A/N: Thanks to those of you who left reviews!
The Library of the Gods
All things, considered, the journey to Aenea went smoothly. Alfred and Feliciano snuck into the inn a couple days after they left the daemon shrine, collected some extra belongings and left a note for Antonio. They told him that they were going to away for a while and apologized for not being able to tell him more.
With their refreshed supplies, they left town in a hurry. The inquisition still seemed thoroughly settled in, and Alfred felt bad for hoping they'd stay put until their quest in Aenea was over.
Aenea was in the heart of the mountains, surrounded by old forests and mountainsides rich in iron ore. With the help of the gods' wisdom, the industrious city had made wide roads through the mountain passes to make travel easier. It was on one of these roads that Alfred and Feliciano traveled. Though they climbed continuously upward, the smooth road made their passage swift.
The late summer sun beat down, and the wilderness was filled with the hum of insects and the chirping of birds. It never got too hot though, especially as they made their way higher into the mountain range. Despite the time of year, the peaks surrounding them were still topped with snow, and the wind occasionally blew a cool draft down.
At a leisurely pace, the trip from Albion to Aenea took a fortnight. Alfred and Feliciano made it to the mountain city in just ten days.
The city was as impressive and imposing as Alfred remembered it. A huge stone wall enclosed the city, and the only way in was through one of the massive iron gates. The stone itself was decorated with intricate iron trappings. It wasn't just a display of wealth. Aenea was in the heart of the high daemon Ivan's territory, and the iron was usually enough to keep daemon attacks from breaking through to the city itself.
"It's been a long time," Feliciano said.
"I was here during the solstice," Alfred said. Feliciano sighed nostalgically.
"Oh, the festival of summer," he said. "That's something I miss. All the mirrors. So much light everywhere. So much free food."
Alfred laughed.
"So you know where we're going once we get inside?" He asked.
Feliciano nodded. "Not all of Aenea revolved around temples and dedicates," he said. "We'll be able to find someplace to stay."
"And as long as no one sees me in my winged boots, I doubt they'll know who I am," Alfred said. He turned to Feliciano. "What about you? I don't suppose they've passed around a drawing of you saying 'banned from Aenea?'"
Feliciano gave a nervous laugh. "I should hope not. I'm not that important, so we should be fine. If we're caught, they'll definitely figure it out though," he said and turned a little pale.
Alfred put his hand on Feliciano's shoulder. "We're not going to get caught, Feli."
With that, they made their way down the road and into the city.
Like Feliciano had said, getting a discreet place to stay wasn't a problem. Since the Summer Solstice festival had come and gone, and many dedicates out working on inquisitions, they had their pick of the inns. Feliciano managed to find seemingly the only one with a southern innkeeper. She seemed happy to have Feliciano there and gave them a fair rate on a two-bed room.
Her food was good, and she and Feliciano chatted as they ate. Alfred listened to the happy babble between the two. That seemed to be something a lot of southerners did: talk quickly and animatedly about nothing and everything.
As the summer sun began to set, the two of them made their way up to their rented room and collapsed. Alfred's body was thrilled to sleep in a bed again. He was asleep within minutes.
Alfred and Feliciano rose much later than they had on the road. The temple wasn't going anywhere, and loitering around there at odd hours would just be suspicious. So they indulged in a large breakfast with the innkeeper whose name was Mare. As Mare brought out a dish of stewed tomatoes and poached eggs, she sat and joined them.
"So what brings you to the city?" she asked.
"We're looking for—" Feliciano began, but Alfred kicked him under the table.
"We're looking for some friends of mine," Alfred said quickly.
"Oh," Mare said. "I don't suppose they're southern? I know every southerner in the city, and I could help you."
"No," Alfred said, injecting disappointment into his voice. "But thanks. So. We may be out a lot, once we find them."
Catching on, Feliciano nodded vigorously.
Mare gave them a pained smile. "Well, tell them to come here if they need a room."
"We'll do that," Feliciano said sincerely.
"Now we should be going," said Alfred.
"Thank you for the food!" said Feliciano.
The two left the little inn and headed for the temple district. Rising from the center of the city was an enormous temple tower. The Tower of the Sun and Moon was visible from nearly every part of the city, and from there they could easily make their way to all the other temples. Including Circalous' and the library it contained.
Alfred had his winged boots stowed in his bag. He felt them there like a great weight, as if they would leap out of their own accord and draw dedicates to them. Despite his worries, there were few people in the streets, and none of them paid him or Feliciano any mind.
They reached the Tower of the Sun and Moon. After navigating the streets and canals of Drachma, the straightforward roads of Aenea seemed boring. But they found the library of the gods with no difficulty from there.
As they entered, Alfred took the time to scope out the building. On their travels, Feliciano had recited everything he remembered about the library. Like the other temples, there was a tower that housed the main temple. Unlike most of the other temples, a low but expansive building that contained the main library surrounded the tower.
Feliciano said that all the restricted books were kept in the tower itself, and Alfred could see why. There was no way in aside from going in through the main library. Though there were windows in the tower, they were no more than slits to let in some sunlight. Alfred sighed. It was painfully Circalous. Ascetic, depressing, and practical.
The library opened into a large room with some tables, lamps, and many shelves of books. This was the public section, Feliciano had said. There were texts about the gods, books of stories, and books about more practical topics. Alfred was relieved that they weren't the only ones in here. A small number of patrons mulled about the shelves. No one would notice a few more.
Like all buildings in the mountain city, the library had a steeply sloped roof to keep the winter snows from collapsing it.
That meant that the library had rafters. Alfred had learned in his experience flying that people rarely looked up when searching for a stray sound. With the boots in tow, he could easily fly up. It was getting Feliciano up after him that was the challenge.
They needed to be patient, and wait for a natural distraction or time when they were alone in the entry chamber. Unfortunately, patience was neither Alfred nor Feliciano's strong suit.
"Surely there must be something we can do to distract them," Alfred said.
"We'll get caught if they can trace it to us," Feliciano said, just as frustrated. "The moment they start looking for us, we've failed."
They camped out in a corner behind a bookshelf. They were out of sight from the other patrons and the dedicate who watched the entrance to the rest of the library. Every once in a while, Alfred or Feliciano would peek around the corner and spy. The dedicate showed no sign of leaving, though the patrons came and went. Eventually, as the sun set towards evening, it was just the three of them.
Then another voice spoke. Alfred peeked out and saw another dedicate talking to the first.
Even in the quiet, Alfred couldn't make out what they were saying, but the two of them walked back into the library and out of sight.
"Now's our chance," Alfred whispered. He pulled his winged boots from his back and exchanged them for the regular ones he was wearing. With a quiet flutter, he shot up into the shadows of the rafters. He could see more of the library from here, and he could see dedicates sitting and reading in the far library.
He had to move quickly. He reached inside his bag and pulled out a long length of rope they'd taken from Antonio's inn. Alfred secured it around the beam he was sitting on, then tossed it down to Feliciano.
They'd discovered on their journey to Aenea that Feliciano couldn't climb the rope by himself, but he tied it in a harness around his waist and legs then clung to the rope.
Alfred was strong and Feliciano was a small man. It didn't take long for them to settle on the beam.
They waited there, making as little sound as possible until the sun began to set. Alfred figured that the library would probably close then and as long as they remained quiet, no one should notice them once the doors were locked.
Alfred's instincts were good, and once it began to get dark, several of the dedicates made a quick round of the public room. Since they had no reason to suspect anything usual, they didn't even glance up at where Alfred and Feliciano sat.
When all the dedicates had disappeared into the tower, Alfred and Feliciano were finally able to start their infiltration. Alfred lowered Feliciano down and joined him. They spent a few minutes stretching out their limbs and exchanged a few hushed whispers.
"I thought I was going to go crazy," Alfred said. "Who knew a dangerous and exciting adventure could be so boring?"
Feliciano gave a soft moan as he stretched. "I thought I was going to fall. Or I would have taken a nap." He gave a sad sigh and stretched his fingers, which had been a vice grip on the rope Alfred used. "I hope I they still work."
"Well lets get to work," Alfred said. They stayed low and crept up to the desk where the dedicate had sat for hours. Alfred peeked over it. As far as he could tell, this floor was empty. He motioned to Feliciano and the two of them darted past it and into the lengthening shadows beyond.
They were committed now. As they entered the restricted sections, they lost all plausible deniability as to why they were there. Feliciano must have realized the same thing, as he kept glancing back from where they'd come.
"We can't turn back now," Alfred said.
"I disagree," Feliciano said. "We can definitely turn back. And if my life's work weren't all leading up to this, I would already be back at the inn and preparing to go home."
Alfred gave a little dry laugh. "I guess I'm lucky it's important."
"Possibly the most important scholarship of our age."
"So you've said."
They crept along; the light crept up the bookshelves and walls until finally disappearing all together. Alfred hadn't really grasped just how large the building was. He would have been lost in a heartbeat trying to navigate the labyrinth of bookshelves. But he had Feliciano, who, even after several years, knew every turn. As they approached the central tower, Alfred began to hear noises of the inhabitants. Circalous was a reclusive god, and had a small following compared to his counterparts.
"Did you ever think of becoming a dedicate?" Alfred asked.
"To who?" Feliciano said.
"Well, Circalous seems like he'd be a fit for you. You'd have full access to this library, patronage, and a whole community of other scholars."
Feliciano snorted. "It I managed to survive the forty years of scribing. No, these dedicates tend the library and keep track of endless prophesies. There's no room for original scholarship here. And certainly none about daemons."
As evening faded to true night, they had to made their way more slowly so as to not trip or make a lot of noise. Finally, they came to the base of a large spiral staircase that lead up into the dedicates' tower. Though they couldn't make out anything distinctly, the noises of bustling had grown louder and a steady stream of light filtered down from the upper floors.
"What do we do now?" Alfred asked.
Feliciano chewed at his lip.
"If I remember correctly," he started uncertainly. "The first floor we'll encounter on the stairs empties out onto more library. There should be few if any people there right now."
"If you remember correctly?" Alfred hissed back.
If it hadn't been so dark, Alfred would have seen Feliciano flush with nerves.
"It's been years," Feliciano said. "And the last time I was here, I wasn't really paying attention to the available hiding places."
"Fine, okay," Alfred said. "So we'd probably be able to make it if we just snuck up the stairs?"
"Assuming we didn't meet anyone on the stairwell. Or in the open on the tower floor."
Alfred drummed his fingers against the bookcase. It was risky, especially if Feliciano turned out to have misremembered the layout—which Alfred didn't put past him. But on the other hand, what choice did they really have?
As Alfred was pondering, the quiet babble from above vanished behind two voices speaking clearly. Two dedicates descended the stairs with a lantern held between them. They talked of their work mostly—the scribing they'd done earlier that day. Nothing that Alfred found helpful.
As they passed by, the lantern flickered light around the library. It never made it to the shadows where Alfred and Feliciano huddled, but it came close a few times. Sneaking around playing cat and mouse with the dedicates was out of the question. They knew the library far better than Alfred and Feliciano and could call for backup in a heartbeat. Their only option was to remain undetected.
"We've got to try and get up the stairs," Alfred whispered when the dedicates retreated back up the spiral staircase.
Feliciano looked startled. "They could come down at any moment," he said.
"It's a risk we're going to have to take," Alfred said. "We need to get up there."
Feliciano looked unhappy about it, but he finally nodded.
"Let's go," Alfred said, pulling a reluctant Feliciano behind him.
They stayed low and crept along the open floor to the base of the staircase. Alfred paused there, straining his ears. He heard only the dull noise of the bustling dedicates—no clear voices that might indicate someone headed in their direction. Alfred turned back and nodded at Feliciano. With a careful step, he crept up the staircase.
The muffled sounds became louder as they climbed, and it was hard to tell if they were just getting closer or if someone was approaching. Both Feliciano and Alfred jumped a few times when a shout or crash came from above. They didn't encounter anyone as they approached the first tower floor. The stairwell made up the center of the tower, with arched doorways leading off to the rest of the floor. This proved lucky for Alfred and Feliciano as it turned out Feliciano's memory of the tower layout was either outdated or incorrect.
The reason for the clearer voices became apparent as they approached the doorway to the first floor. It turned out that this was not a part of the library but the quarters for most of the dedicates. All of whom bustled about doing their evening activities. Feliciano let out a soft squeak when he realized he had been wrong. Alfred glanced at him, but didn't have any time to be angry or frustrated. A dedicate could decide to come down any minute and find them skulking in the stairwell.
There was nothing for it. Alfred grabbed Feliciano and darted across the opening. Then, trying to stay as quiet as he could, dashed up the remaining steps to the next level. He wasn't going to take the time to find out if they'd been noticed.
The two paused again at the second level, but this one was quiet and dark. It was probably the floor Feliciano had misremembered as the first tower floor. Alfred dragged Feliciano behind him as they disappeared into the maze of bookshelves. Hopefully, even if they had been noticed, they wouldn't be found now.
Alfred let out a sigh of relief and grinned at Feliciano. They had made it. Feliciano still looked like he was going to bolt, so Alfred kept his grasp on his arm.
"We're good for now," Alfred said to Feliciano, trying to soothe him. "Come on, let's get farther away from the stairs," he said.
They navigated the towering bookshelves by the slivers of moonlight the tiny windows allowed in. Near the edge of the tower, they stumbled upon their first real bit of luck. The far wall was lined with empty rooms. Though calling them rooms was a stretch. They were more like cells, probably for if the main quarters ever ran out of beds for the dedicates. There was a small, bare cot pushed up against the wall, a tiny bookshelf, and an ancient chamber pot. The only piece of furniture that didn't live up to the highest ideals of asceticism was the large, oak writing desk that dominated the little room. Alfred sat on the cot, unleashing a cloud of dust.
"This is a perfect base for us to work from!" he said.
Feliciano studied the room and seemed to relax. He made a sound of relief when he swung the heavy door shut. "It locks," he said, tears of gratitude almost audible in his voice.
"It'll be cramped quarters with the two of us here," Alfred said.
Feliciano shrugged. "I don't mind. I've lived in tighter with Lovi and Tonio."
Alfred nodded and wandered over the writing desk. It was bare other than a candle stub. He'd look for something to light it with, along with something to write with and on the next day. Exhausted, he and Feliciano collapsed together on the tiny cot. It was cramped, but not entirely uncomfortable. The room would have been cold without each other's warmth, and so they contentedly drifted off.
The next few days they fell into a pattern of sneaking and research. Despite his failure to remember the layout of the tower floors, Feliciano had an easy time finding many of the tomes he'd used in his earlier research. Books on daemons were far less uncommon in the library than Alfred would have thought.
Finding books that had any accurate information about daemons turned out to be much more difficult. Any book written in the last few centuries was filled with exaggeration and outright lies about Arthur and his kin that occasionally made Alfred break out in laughter. Feliciano pumped Alfred for his knowledge of the gods and daemons with an efficiency and insight that Alfred hadn't expected from the little man.
Once he'd gotten a better sense of the library, it was Alfred who went searching for the books, leaving Feliciano in their little room to scrutinize the texts. Alfred had an advantage with his flying boots, as he could drift near soundlessly through the tower and search high bookcases without having to drag a heavy ladder across the floor. Dedicates were always a source of worry for them, as they drifted in and around the library at their leisure, which was often at all hours of the night. Alfred had a few close calls, but he thought he'd been able to avoid arousing suspicion.
As they passed a week in the tower, living off provisions from their packs and the occasional risky theft from the dedicates' kitchen, Alfred became frustrated with their progress.
"How long is it going to be until you learn anything useful?" he complained on evening.
Feliciano looked up from the tome he was pouring over. He frowned at Alfred.
"I've learned many useful things," he said. "Just not anything directly about The Sleeper."
Alfred let out a quiet groan. "But that's what we came here to learn!"
"I've learned many things she isn't."
"And how is that remotely helpful?"
Feliciano crossed his arms defensively. "It narrows down what I should look for. It gives me direction," he sighed, frustrated. "Learning what something isn't is often just as important as learning what something is."
"Sure," Alfred said. "If you say so. So what isn't she?"
"She's not a god," Feliciano said thoughtfully. "And I don't think she's a daemon either. At least not the kind that we know of."
Alfred wandered over to the writing desk where Feliciano had several books splayed open. Many of the were ancient, from before the war between the gods and daemons, but not all.
"Why are you bothering with this shit?" Alfred asked, indicating one of the newer tomes. "I thought we decided everything it said about daemons was completely wrong."
"It's what it doesn't say that is of most interest to me," Feliciano said.
Alfred's frustration broke. "We could sit here and talk for weeks about what books don't say!"
Feliciano was not a man who was quick to anger, but his long temper finally showed itself. "This is why you could never be a scholar," he snapped. "You're too caught up in finding the explanation for whatever you want to know that you can't grasp the knowledge that comes from understanding the answer in its whole context."
Alfred stared at Feliciano while Feliciano pointedly returned to his work and ignored Alfred's gaze.
After a short, uncomfortable silence, Alfred felt his own temper cooling.
"Could you maybe explain what you've learned to this never-could-be-a-scholar," he asked, hoping Feliciano would take the peace offering.
A little chuckle escaped Feliciano, and he calmed.
"Of course my boorish friend."
"You wound me, Feli."
"Truth is cruel," Feliciano said with a smile. "Anyway, if you are interested, I can share. I will warn you that I have discovered nothing about The Sleeper—just hints that guide my guesswork."
Alfred nodded, trying to convey his willingness to listen.
"Like you noticed before, there is a stark contrast between texts from before and after the beginning of the First Daemon War."
"Like what?" Alfred asked.
"Before the war, text referred to them with similar deference and respect. There are even some mentions of," Feliciano reddened, "fraternization between the two races."
Alfred blinked, and several pieces clicked into place in his head. "Arthur and Francis. They must have…fraternized…back them."
Feliciano pondered this. "Their particular brand of animosity towards each other certainly fits the motif of betrayed affection."
"Alright, so the gods and high daemons canoodled," Alfred said. "What does that tell us?"
"It gives a picture of the sort of relationships the two races had, or could have. Trust, intimacy."
"And…?"
"There's still no mention of The Sleeper."
Alfred shook his head. "You're going to have to spell it out for me," he said.
"Who ever she was—or is—her existence was secret enough to keep from the gods." Feliciano turned to Alfred, making sure to emphasize his point. "The gods were at worst their allies and at best lovers. What sort of secret do you keep from a lover?"
Alfred thought for a moment, though having never had a lover, he had trouble conceptualizing it. Finally, he offered, "Something dangerous? Or maybe something painful?"
Feliciano nodded adamantly. "That's what I think too."
"So we know what sort of secret we're looking for," Alfred said.
Feliciano picked up where Alfred left off. "Either something that is very dangerous to know, or something that would cause the daemons lasting pain."
"I can't believe you got all of that from something not being mentioned in tomes upon tomes of text."
Feliciano blushed. "It's not much,," he said. "We still don't know anything about The Sleeper."
"But it's a good test for any theory we have. We just need to keep looking!" Alfred said, his enthusiasm renewed. Feliciano beamed at him.
With that, Alfred retrieved his boots, determined to continue scouring the library for anything he and Feliciano could use.
He had only been out for a few minutes when he heard many footsteps coming up towards him. As they approached, he could make out some words.
"Someone's here alright," said a woman. "Books are missing, food scraps snatched, and some of the junior dedicates reported hearing noises from this floor at night."
Shit Alfred thought. He needed to get back to the room, bolt the door and wait for the suspicion to ebb away.
Alfred spun, intending to bolt back to their cell, but didn't account for his momentum. He hit one of the shelves hard, and books tumbled down. The noise was atrocious.
Nearly in a panic, Alfred flew back to the cell. He collided with the door, and half shouted to Feliciano.
"They know we're here, Feli," said Alfred. "They're coming."
There was a shuffling from the other side of the door, and instead of opening, Alfred heard the bolt slide into place.
"Feli?" Alfred said. "Feli, you locked the door."
"I'm sorry," came a terrified squeak from beyond the door.
"Feli!" Alfred shouted. "Open the door. Come on, they'll find me here."
The closed door stared him in the face, silent.
It took a moment for Alfred to realize what the silence meant.
"You fucking coward!" Alfred shouted. "You useless, fucking coward!"
Well, Alfred wasn't a coward, and he knew what the thundering steps behind him meant. He let out a wordless shout of rage and turned. For a moment, Alfred thought about letting the dedicates catch him and then giving them Feliciano's location in return for the stupid coward's betrayal. But Alfred dismissed that thought. He was better than Feliciano, and if he wanted to hide and let Alfred take the fall, so be it.
Alfred would lead them on a merry chase.
A/N: gdamn it Feli