"Somewhere on a soft wooden shelf, perhaps covered in dust, there is a book you seek. A tome, a tale, or a story to be told. Or maybe you are looking for an essay, a treatise; a way of understanding the world around you... or your place in it."

Dalanor stood before a small assembly of green robed matriculants. It was their first day of new enrollment orientation at the academy. They stood in a loose group in a wide round grassy courtyard, gathered before a set of stone steps leading up to thick oak doors with engravings of a quill and paper. The doors were set into a towering structure with tall windows and a minaret on top. The building looked more like a cathedral than a library. Dalanor held up a nondescript book with a sloop on the cover and continued.

"A book need not teach us magic, to be magical. The right books are those that guide you. Yet the time will come when that which you are looking for cannot be found. Do not hold that pressure within yourself. Release it! Harness it! Create, so that those who come after you may benefit, as you did from those before you. Now go forth! Read, learn, create."

Dalanor turned and opened the doors to the library and stepped inside, students in tow. The room opened to a multi-tiered marvel. Mezzanines on the floors above circled the walls, connected by a large spiral staircase near the entrance. The center was an open area with tables and comfortable chairs, with a clear view to the ceiling. Railings above overlooked the floors below, and large glass windows at the top and along the walls bathed each floor in natural light.

The students all dispersed immediately, some in pairs or small groups, though most were solo in their search. A curator sorting books in a cart gave Dalanor a warm familiar smile.

The arcane academy had many libraries, each with a different aesthetic that appealed to all types. While some enjoyed the sweeping views of Maazerick island outside, others simply did not. The libraries varied in size and atmosphere, ranging from bright airy spaces to basements that were lit only by lanterns. One library was literally a maze of narrow halls lined with bookshelves. Though it contained a seemingly endless of supply of knowledge - the arrangement required a thick book to even navigate.

There were other places as well, places not often visited, secret places, better left unspoken.

Not long after the group of students eagerly dispersed, a muffled noise of a dozen heavy books falling to the ground could be heard to one corner of the library, along with a painful grunt. Given how the students had just scattered around the place, it would be hard to assert if the fall was an accident or intentional.

Emerging from the pile of books, a distressed young mageling painfully stood, looking more appaled by the state of the books he'd been carrying than by his own soreness, his black hair a messy cloud around his head. It was a scrawny boy, no older than ten or perhaps eleven. His clothes clearly set him apart from the other students, although nothing in his posture or youth would suggest otherwise. Instead of the usual apprenticeship robes, the boy wore simple black leathers - a simple kind of high quality leatherworking. In his chest rested a pin of a black quill.

The distress of the young child seemed to warrant the help of another student, a girl a few years his senior. With her help, both of them started to pick up the fallen books, careful as to not fold the pages as they closed them. The girl proceeded to pile them up on the boys arms, as intructed by him, which made it clear why he stumbled and fell on the first place: the pile of books quickly blocked his vision, leaving him to struggle under the heavy books without a proper way of seeing where his feet were taking him.

The girl looked unsure and offered to help take the books, but the boy looked adamant on doing it on his own, carrying the huge pile of books with a good amount of difficulty.

Bidding her farewell, the boy promptly - stubbornly! - started moving again, with small, strained footsteps toward wherever he wanted to go.

Determined, he didn't seem to notice there was another obstacle in his path, this time an adult sized one with blue hair. He couldn't see him behind the wall of ancient knowledge that blocked his sight, and if left to his own devices, would probably make a mess once again.

Dalanor heard a small commotion down one of the aisles around the corner and raised an eyebrow. He calmly walked towards the sound, hands folded together and resting at the small of his back. He turned the blind corner and narrowly dodged a young girl who marched by with a sigh. The doubtful expression on her face spoke volumes. Further down the aisle, between two tall bookshelves, a small pair of arms and legs were sticking out from a teetering tower of books, bobbing up and down while headed his direction.

Hmm, interesting...

As the swaying column approached, Dalanor lifted a hand in preparation of his magic [1]. He stabilized the tower from falling, balancing and centering the weight with subtle hand gestures, then shifted his focus to a book in the center and raised his hand. Half the stack lifted into the air, allowing the boy to see the blue haired wizard standing just outside the end of the aisle. Dalanor pulled the levitating half of books towards himself and addressed the boy with a comforting tone.

"Hello there young man. Quite a collection! But if you carry too many at once, you could drop and damage them."

---

[1] Telekinesis

As the weigh started to be lifted from his arms, the boy seemed to think the pile of books were about to fall once again and start to panic.

“No no no no no!”

It took him a moment to understand the books were not falling, but floating above his head. He was already bracing himself for another mess to pick up, closing his eyes tightly… but it never happened. Then he realized it, looked around and his eyes fell squarely on the blue haired wizard.

The first words that came out of his mouth weren’t that much relevant.

“….Your beard is blue!”

A true statement, no doubt. Give him a moment and his head will turn on the filter on his words before they spill out of his mouth again.

“Ahem…… Huh….”

The boy looked around. His blue eyes had a curious pull, deep and starry and still filled with the freshness of youth. When he finally comprehended what was going on, seeing the books floating above him and understanding it was the blue wizard’s doing, he opened up in a big smile.

“Uhm… Thanks! I’m… I’m getting some books on the fae. For my Master. Can you help me take them there? She’s back there.”

The boy made a gesture with the head to indicate one of the far end corners of the library - someone was clearly trying to find a hole to bury their head in peacefully.

Without expecting much of an answer, the boy started to walk again with his much more manageable pile of books, expecting the man would follow.

“Why is your beard blue?”

Dalanor chuckled quietly and smiled, a rosy-cheeked smile that squinted his eyes. A few faint crow's feet formed at the edges, a recent development. He flicked the wrist of his raised hand upwards and towards himself while quickly moving his other hand to the small of his back in one smooth motion. The books separated and moved through the air like a slinky, landing on what seemed like an invisible platform behind him. They neatly restacked in reverse order with quiet thuds.

He walked beside the boy, both hands now clasped together in the small of his back. Trying to keep in lockstep with the quick little movements would be impossible, so Dalanor matched his pace with long slow strides. The stack of books smoothly cruised in the air a short distance behind. The finger of one hand was curled up, as if an invisible string tied it to the floating books.

"Hah, that is a good question! It is too long of a tale to tell now, but I will accompany you."

As they walked and talked into the center of the library, an attendant tasked with maintaining order cast a glare at the two and quietly shushed them. "Shhh." They gave Dalanor a look as if he should know better and he returned with a guilty smile.

Dalanor would notice the boy's shoulders jolt up with the quiet reprimand, but when the attendant turned their back on them, the boy gave him his tongue. Still, when he spoke again, it was in a hush tone.

"My name is Hektor, by the way. What's your name? Do you know where I can find more books on the fae?"

The boy's feet were quick and slightly on the anxious side, navigating the labirinthic library with confidence. He gave the floating books a bright smile, almost tripping over a table in the process.

"You must like blue! I like blue! Were you born with blue hair or do you die your hair and beard? And why?"

Hektor was clearly a curious one - a trait most young apprentices usually shared. If their progress depended only on that, Hektor was on the way of being a great mage one day.

Soon they would reach a shadowy nook between some distant shelves that didn't seem too popular, hence the idea that Hektor's Master definitely wanted some quiet and peace. Few people were interested in that area of the library, so quiet and peace were most likely achieved. The table had a collection of scrolls and open books sprawled around a central figure that looked deeply focused on her research, until Hektor and Dalanor approached.

"Master! I found these! Don't worry, I got help!"

Hektor's Master was a woman that probably shared blood with the boy, that much was undeniable. Though she carried some elven features - which the boy didn't - both of them had black hair and blue eyes. But while the boy's eyes had that candidness of youth, her current had a stronger pull; inescapable as the undertow, barely containing the immense pool of mana inside, stars swirling in a sea of arcane prowess.

Yet, her smile was warm and true, dimples and all; her manners felt genuine and down to earth. She got up to help Hektor unload his books carefully on the table.

"...What happened to 'just a few books'? These look more than just a few."

Then, she turned to the stranger, who seemed to be helping Hektor, a somewhat playful curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Perhaps she might even have the same questions as her apprentice, but propriety had her hold her tongue for now.

"I hope Hektor hasn't bothered you much, sir."

Dalanor chuckled at the boy's questions. He leaned over slightly and responded quietly.

"Good to meet you Hektor, I'm Dalanor. So you're interested in the fae..." Dalanor's voice trailed off.

As they headed towards an unfrequented, shadowed corner of the library, an alluring figure came into view. He glanced down at the boy and then again at the woman, noting the similarities in their features and pondering the relation.

They walked up to the woman and the floating stack of books levitated over. Though relatively behind him, the books were at an angle to the corner of his vision so he could maintain control. He pivoted on his heel and turned, motioning with his hand behind his back as he set the books down gently in the corner of the table.

His eyes glanced across the scrolls and books scattered about as the woman addressed him. He responded with a voice that was deep and warm, not far from his usual tone, but the air of authority was removed.

"Not a bother at all my lady. He's an inquisitive one. Hektor and I are kindred spirits." Dalanor smiled softly and stepped closer, extending a hand in greeting.

"I'm an adjunct professor here–" His lips froze partly open; the sentence dissipated. His blue eyes met hers, like a river flowing into the sea. Her eyes enveloped him, a spellbound gaze that stopped time.

The woman didn’t hesitate on extending her hand towards the man to shake it - as expected, her hands were soft and well tended for, manicured and delicate, always warm. She probably never held a shovel or a sword in her life, it was easy to assert that. Not that it would ever be needed, if the promise in her eyes was true. She held his gaze for as long as it felt polite to, sitting back on her chair, surrounded by knowledge.

“You can call me Kamille, Mr. Adjunct Professor.”

“You’re a teacher? I don’t remember you!”

“You weren’t here for long, Hektor.”

Then, she turned to Dalanor to explain.

“Hektor studied here quite briefly, before I pulled him to stay with me. It’s… a rather long story, and it’s main villain is gold.”

As most of the times. The academy was known for being an expensive affair. There was a lie there, somewhere, made itself evident by the fact that both her and the apprentice were dressed in quality, even if somber clothes. The woman was wrapped in a flattering array of leather and lace, a cloak entirely lined with black feathers resting against the arm of the chair.

“We, uh… let ourselves in…”

Suddenly, she realized how that sounded, especially to someone who wouldn’t recognize her.

“I’m… with the guild.”

A half true - she was with the guild, but they didn’t know she was here. Normally she pranced around the academy freely, but rarely came. The people who would recognize her wouldn’t dare deny her access - but they normally also wouldn’t give her peace.

“Hey!”

Hektor suddenly jumped up between them.

“Maybe Mr. Dalanor could help us in the research? If he’s a professor, he would know the library better than anyone, right?”

Kamille looked up to the man she just learned to be named Dalanor, a sparkle of hope in her eyes, the light of playful curiosity never fading.

“We’re researching into the fae. Trying to understand what is happening around the world a little bit better. Hektor, I’m sure Mr…. Dalanor is a busy man and has a lot to do. Don’t bother him.”

Dalanor shook Kamille's hand with a mild firmness. He had pianist hands, soft yet strong. They were not rough, but lightly textured, with smooth grooves on the pads of his fingertips, reminiscent of polished oak.

Kamille...

Her name resounded in his mind, her simplest words like a ritual incantation. He blinked a few times and pulled himself away from her undertow, the world around him flooding back all at once to the sound of the boy's voice.

He came to his senses just as Hektor vocalized not remembering Dalanor - to which he simply chuckled in response. He would have surely remembered such a bright young scholar.

As Kamille explained his former education at the academy and their circumstance leading to the library, Dalanor nodded and rubbed his bearded chin. He listened quietly and inquisitively.

So she's with the guild...

At the prospect of helping Kamille and Hektor to find a book on the fae, Dalanor attempted to conceal his enthusiasm, but his face noticeably brightened.

"Hmm, the fae are a popular topic lately..."

He glanced over his shoulder, remembering his students who were scattered around the library.

"...And I don't have to round up my orientation class until much later..."

His hand rubbed his beard for a moment as he contemplated if this situation warranted bending the rules. He looked to Kamille with a twinkle in his eye.

"There is a section you might find interesting... usually off limits to non-faculty... I can take you there. We call it... the Elder Grotto."

It was hard to confidently assert Kamille knew the kind of influence she had on people, but she knew it on some level, as women do. For the most cases, she would blame her magic.

The mischievousness in her gaze was definitely a staple, never far from reach.

Concern does cross her mind as Dalanor looks over his shoulder - she is not aware of his duties, but it is clear to her he is on duty, as he mentions himself his class of students. She didn’t want to cause trouble for him, but...

But then he mentions an area she never heard of, something she wouldn’t have access to. And while she tried to conceal and contain her smile, Dalanor knew it to be an herculean task for her. Her eyes glinted with interest, and most dangerous of all:

Curiosity.

"...The Elder Grotto? I... I never heard of it..."

Her imagination running freely, it became apparent that Master and Apprentice seemed to share an interest in ancient, forbidden knowledge.

"Is it, like, forbidden?"

The boy's reaction to something supposedly "forbidden" also made him light up - but Kamille quickly shot him down.

"Don’t get your hopes up, Hektor. We will not bring any trouble to Mr. Dalanor by pulling him off his duty."

Her words seemed to cause herself some pain yet, as she was clearly very tempted by the idea of having access to something she shouldn’t have.

Hence why she turned back to the adjunct professor, she bit her lower lip while two very contradicting notions struggled in her mind.

"I mean... I wouldn’t want to cause you any kind of trouble..."

..............but she would love to.

There was something about a beautiful woman surrounded by books that was incredibly charming. Add a healthy dose of curiosity and... everything else... and she was irresistible.

He watched the exchange between Hektor and Kamille with quiet anticipation. When he saw the look on her face, he smiled softly. She bit her lip and the deal was sealed. His response was barely above a whisper.

"Come, this way." Dalanor leaned his head to the side, beckoning them to follow and spun on his heel. The hem of his high collared blue coat flapped at the back of his thighs.

He maintained a brisk pace but not too fast for Hektor. He headed down a long aisle between tall rows of bookshelves, glancing back once with a smile. At the end was a nondescript oak door with no discernable handle of any sort. In the top center of the door was a face with eyes closed, carved in relief out of wood, raised out of the door. Dalanor addressed the face plainly and squarely.

"Hello guardian of the grotto, I need passage for three."

The eyes of the wooden face opened slowly and the mouth yawned. The eyes were painted porcelain with green irises and the mouth a light pink with a red tongue. The guardian smacked its lips and scowled.

"Oh, you? I haven't seen you for some time..." It looked past Dalanor's shoulder to Kamille and Hektor. "...and company... that's a first..."

The nose on the guardian's wooden face wrinkled. "Wait, why do you smell of mischief?" The scowl on the face deepened and the wood audibly creaked. The guardian awaited their response.

No need to speak any further.

Kamille eagerly jumped up to accompany Dalanor, making a gesture for Hektor to behave and for the long dead gods, be quiet!

Curiosity was both a strength and a weakness, as it was the main driving force behind an accomplished mage… but it also could be their downfall. The thought vaguely crossed her mind as they followed the - by all accounts - stranger they just met.

A look of surprise and excitement lighted up her face as they reached the guardian of the grotto. Truth be told, if she was to receive a solar for every talking door she had met, she would have two solars. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s funny that it happened twice. But this one was very different, with a pretty painted face and all.

At the guardian’s inquiry, Kamille promptly whipped up a reply.

“It must be my familiar raven you’re smelling. He’s not here right now, but his name is Mischief. Quite mischievous I would say. Not me, no. Not me.”

At that, she threw a subtle wink to Dalanor, a quick flutter of the eyelashes, before turning back to the guardian.

“I met another talking door once. His name was Doorian. Do you have a name?”

It crossed her mind that if there was a guardian, it might not want them to pass. If the stories were of any value, perhaps it would throw them a riddle? A puzzle?

Or… maybe they could just talk it out?

“Aren’t you alone up here?”

Dalanor concealed a smile with his hand at Kamille's wink and watched quietly as she spoke to the talking door. He was not familiar with any other talking doors and his eyebrows raised at the mention of 'Doorian'. He would have to ask about that later.

"Hm, a raven... yes that must explain it..." The guardian's eyebrows furrowed and then slackened. "Doorian you say? What a peculiar name, though it does sound familiar... but no, I don't think so... and my name is Doora."

Doora seemed lost in thought for a moment until Kamille asked if she was alone.

"Alone... Ah yes, only HE ever seems to visit these days..." The guardian glowered at Dalanor. "Even THAT is becoming a rarity..." She sighed then continued.

"Well, let us be on with it then. You know the drill. To access the knowledge of the grotto, you must tell me something that makes me feel alive again.... and since there are three of you - that means three things. Tell me something scary, something funny and something beautiful. Remember, they must be things which I do not already know..."

Dalanor furrowed his brow and he put his hand to his chin. A few thoughts came to mind but he looked first to Kamille and Hektor.

"I'm delighted to meet you, Doora! Say... My visits to the academy are quite rare and far in between, but I can compromise with a quick stop for a chat whenever I pass by! Would you like that?"

Meeting Doorian taught her how such existence could be lonely. She smiled at the memory of playing cards with Doorian and another one, getting so hammered in the process she barely remembered any of it.

Perhaps it wasn’t even a talking door, but the booze talking that night.

"I wouldn’t hold it against Mr. Dalanor, Doora. Look at him! Such a handsome professor must be awfully busy, wouldn’t you say? A lot of... extra curriculars... I assume."

There was no denying it, Dalanor could see it clearly: the woman took pleasure in teasing and some mild embarrassement. Some color to the cheeks never did anyone any harm, she would think.

Either way, it looked like she had been expecting some kind of trial to get access to the grotto, and Dalanor could see the challenge lighted up her face in a contained smile.

"Something scary, something funny, and something beautiful, hm? Can I start?"

Kamille looked over to Dalanor to get confirmation, a sparkle in her eyes.

"I will tell you something scary: the Werewolf woods. Have you heard of it? They say people go in, never to get out. Even the screams can't be heard. It was our destination, me and my friend's, Shaa, before he became the leader of the Fighters Guild. We went to investigate a house, thinking it would be just a haunted house, but it was way worse. The house itself was alive, playing tricks on us, trying to imprision us on its belly, just to feast on our mana. They promised us there were magical artifacts there, preying on our curiosity and thirst for knowledge. Nightmares plaguing our every step, we barely escaped with our lives, as the house was especialized in stealing Mage's mana and playing mind games. And believe me, Doora: when magic is all you got, feeling it slipping through your fingers can be... terrifying."

Speaking of it under daylight was another thing entirely. The episode safely buried in the past, its memory still made Kamille think twice before stepping into an obviously haunted house.

Hektor, who'd been thoughtful, for a moment, suddenly spoke up.

"My turn! My turn! I have something funny to say! Knock knock!"

A knock knock joke? Kamille contained a stiffled chuckle - would Doora find it fitting or insulting?

"I said, knock knock!"

"Okay... Who's there?"

"Rogue!"

"Rogue who?"

"Exactly!"

Doora smiled and raised her eyebrows at the prospect of another visitor. "Oh you would visit me? That would be lovely."

At the mention of Dalanor's extracurriculars the guardian laughed heartily and Dalanor's cheeks beamed red.

Kamille delved into her story and the guardian's face stared in awe and wonder, then changed to one of fright.

"Ohh my, by Ginma! How terrifying indeed. I could never be a door in a haunted house, what a scary thought..."

The guardian's face was filled with concern, but immediately changed into a smile as Hektor began to speak.

"A knock-knock joke! How fitting!"

As the punch line landed the wooden face made what could only be described as a belly laugh, that creaked the door with each exhale. Doora smiled with her eyes and her wooden cheeks raised. The guardian was clearly pleased.

"Oh! He is a witty little lad! A rogue at my door, just imagine! Sneaking into the academy like a wee little mouse, probably after the crumbs of cheese and bread that you leave everywhere Dalanor!" The door laughed again with the same intermingled creaking sound. Dalanor shook his head in denial.

"Well those were delightful. Don't let me down Dalanor, now to you. And no telling me it is me that is beautiful. That won't work twice mister. As If I didn't know the first time! You were just lucky I was in high spirits and let you through anyway!"

Dalanor smiled. "Alright Doora... something beautiful... " He rubbed his beard for a few moments.

"Let's hear it then. Be on with it Dalanor I don't have all day you know."

Dalanor raised an eyebrow at that.

"Once, when I was at the Sunset Plains, at dusk, I saw wild horses running freely in the distance. I just stood there and watched, I don't know for how long. Then they crossed right in front of me. I could see their manes blowing in the wind, and all the details of their coats. There was a gorgeous dappled mare in front, followed by others - brown, black, white, blonde... It was like an artist dipped a brush in a myriad of colors and streaked it across a canvas of pale golden grasslands. The sun was hanging in that low, orange glow, and it boldly outlined their figures on the rolling plains. I'm not sure if I can describe it adequately... but it was a beautiful sight."

Doora looked deep in thought. "I can see it... wild horses roaming the Sunset Plains at dusk... Thank you all..."

The eyes and mouth of the guardian closed gently and the door popped up, slightly ajar.

Dalanor smiled softly at Kamille and Hektor. He grabbed the edge of the door and opened it with a mild creak. Inside was a staircase with walls and steps formed of dirt. The roots of a tree reinforced the tops and edges of the steps. The roots also ran across the walls and hung from a high ceiling like gnarled wooden stalactites. A green moss covered the walls in big uneven patches, glowing with a bioluminescence. It wasn't bright, but it was decently lit, albeit an odd green glow. It was clear now that the door had been carved into a tree system that they would step through into the earth. The door was both the entry into the tree, and part of the tree itself. This place predated the academy, that much was sure. At the least.

Stepping inside with the confidence of someone who visited many times before, Dalanor paused for a few moments before descending the steps. "Nothing scary down here, it's basically an ancient library. I don't want to spoil the surprise, but recently, things have started lighting up and changing in interesting ways... I think it might be connected to the fae sightings. You'll see what I mean when we get down there."