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bookandcranny · 4 years

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Stone Heart Gambit

Part 1 - Chapter 4

“Is it me, or is trying to walk down stairs in the dark kind of not fun.”

The librarian- the faerie, the liar, her friend- whatever he is to her now, he casts her a backwards glance and raises a hand, which begins to glow. It’s not like the light of a bulb or even a flame dancing on the wick of a candle, it’s like bottled daylight, the serene glow of a merry spring day. All Soso wants to do is stare at it, bask in it. It brightens the stairwell, but doesn’t make watching her step much easier. Surehouser grins knowingly at her. She huffs.

“Show off.”

Eventually she does manage to tear her eyes away and look around. The library basement is a proper dungeon. The stairs seem to go on forever, the stone walls are streaked with mildew, and as they delve deeper she notices tapestries and even an old battle-axe mounted on the walls. They’re marked with a variety of emblems, intricate and beautiful, but none the least bit familiar to her. Part of her wonders if it would change her opinion of them, knowing whether they are relics of the humans or the fae.

She’s still processing the overwhelming amount of information Surehouser has placed on her, the knowledge that not only are the creatures of myth real, but apparently are her ancestral enemies. Surehouser himself doesn’t seem bothered by it, so maybe she shouldn’t be either. After all this war he speaks of was so long ago that she can hardly conceive of it. On the other hand, for Adamantius, humankind’s champion, the wounds seem to be a lot fresher. He won, but it doesn’t sound like he got to reap many of the rewards.

That’s the part that puzzles her most. Both sides had to lay down their arms for the sake of creating peace, but she doesn’t understand why that would lead to Adamantius being sentenced so cruelly. If he was truly humanity’s saving grace during the war, why did no one before her come to rescue him?

The passageway opens onto a subterranean archive of sorts, which darkly mirrors the charming little library directly above it. The shelves here are far less welcoming, set in rigid lines like rows of headstones in a military cemetery. It’s lit from a above by hanging lanterns which flicker to life upon their entry, as if they were expecting the pair’s arrival. And still, the stairs don’t end, rather continue to a lower sublevel, and another below that, far further down than Soso can make out.

“How deep does it go?” she asks.

“As deep as you can imagine and deeper. There’s an entire floor set aside for illegal poisons, and a special wing for forbidden texts on summoning demons.” He isn’t quite gleeful as he says it, but neither does he seem properly horrified. Soso sure is.

“Why even keep all this stuff? Why not destroy it, if it’s so dangerous?”

“Everything you can find down here is a part of history,” he explains. “The darkest part of our shared history, but history none the less. So much knowledge was lost when the world was split, so much that most humans no longer even remember us outside of stories. The idea of sacrificing even more was unthinkable, and between you and me, I think some people feel better knowing they could theoretically still access this garbage should we ever go to war again.”

He walked through the aisles, pointing out spots of interest as he went. “Books of banned spellcraft here, manuals for the construction of basic torture tools, recipes for Gnomish explosives. Someday I must show you the section for djinn containment bottles, it’s quite the treat. Of course, you’ve already met the crown jewel of the entire collection.”

She resists the urge to argue the point again. She’s coming to suspect that he only brings the former gargoyle up to try and rile her, maybe trick her into confessing that this was all some plot of long-belated human vengeance after all.

“How did I not know about this?” she asks instead with a slight shiver. “How does no one know about any of this?”

“I wouldn’t say no one, but as for most, I think you can guess. It’s because it was better that way. When the human forces won and claimed our shared world as their own, the fae assembled a council of powerful magi to split the world and create the land of Underhill, where the fae could live peacefully, unseen in humanity’s shadow. Apart, each side was free to heal, free to forget the past. Still, not everyone has that luxury. Now you’re one of those in the know. How’s it feel?”

She swallows. “Kind of like riding a rollercoater with a full stomach.” She looks at the librarian. “How do you deal with it? How do you deal with having this huge secret just sitting inside you like dead weight?”

“Drinking mostly,” he says cheerfully. The joke falls flat. He sighs. “You know, before this I was living a wonderful carefree life in Underhill, enjoying all that the endless summer had to offer. Then I was told that because my family line descends from some faerie noble that was on the peace council nigh millennia ago, I was expected to live up to my pedigree. It was either take over watching the vault of wartime horrors or go into politics, and if there’s one thing I hate more than wasting away in this nothing town guarding a pile of dusty relics, it’s politics.”

“And they didn’t tell you ahead of time that the job included watching a prisoner of war who also just so happened to have razor-sharp teeth and horns?”

The man broaches this next subject carefully, uncertainty writ plainly on his face. “I knew about Adamantius- vaguely! I just didn’t expect that he would ever be quite so… alive.”

“Isn’t turning a soldier into some kind of life-size trophy post war against the Geneva convention?”

“It may seem cruel to you, but you must remember that he isn’t human. He may claim to be a son of man, but even the human side didn’t want him when they had nothing more for him to kill. He was built for destruction. He can’t be allowed to wander freely.” His voice takes on an uncharacteristically grim note. “As I understand it, the terms of the treaty exempted him from execution, but he was, and is, too dangerous to just be let go. This, this should have never happened.” He fidgets nervously. “But it has, which means, Soso, that a great burden, a great responsibility has fallen to you.”

She takes a reflexive step back. “Responsibility? Me? What am I supposed to do? Put him back in the rock?”

He shakes his head. “Perhaps there might still be a way, but for now, just keep him occupied. You set him free. That means, in his eyes, he owes you a debt greater than his very life. You are the only one who can control him. And you must, or he’ll be the end of us all.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Adami might have some… quirks, but he’s not some mindless monster. He- he helped me.” Granted it had been because of him she had nearly passed out on the kitchen floor, but he had caught her and carried her to bed. He’d been gentle despite the sharp shape of him. “I think he wants to do right, he’s just sorta confused about what that means.”

“Are you claiming since he’s been awake he hasn’t done any harm,” he asks, disbelieving.

The image of clawmarks and frightened frat bros flashes through her mind. “Well…”

The man nods. “Come with me. I want to show you one last thing before we go up.”

Down they go to one of the lower lower-levels. Surehouser counts shelves and follows the cryptic keys until he finds a thick book of yellowed parchment. It’s almost too large for him to maneuver open on his own while keeping the ball of magic light aloft and the cover is inscribed in something that, to Soso’s inexperienced eyes, looks like a cross between German and Old English. Thankfully the inside looks to be more pictures than words. The illustrations remind Soso of the decorated margins of medieval bibles and bestiaries. The linguistic aspect may be lost on her, but art history had been one of her more preferred courses in school.

The design Surehouser flips to is much larger, taking up the bulk of both pages. It depicts armored soldiers being besieged upon by a familiar figure. Here, Adamantius is painted in red, making him look like a classic Christian devil. He’s tearing the retreating knights limb from limb, and smiling as he does it. Soso isn’t inclined to believe everything she reads in strange old books, but the altered likeness is disconcerting.

“He was called by many names back then, I’m told,” says Surehousr, breaking her thoughtful concentration. “When I first heard the story as a child, Adamantius the unmerciful was the popular title.”

Soso shakes her head. “I thought you said you were a neutral party,” she accuses. “You said it yourself, it was horrible for both sides. He was a soldier, not some gleeful mass-murderer.”

“Oh dear, do you still think there’s a difference?”

No more words are exchanged as they begin their ascent back up to the main floor. Soso is pensive, her head full of questions she doesn’t trust herself to voice. Not a day ago her biggest concern was building up the courage to talk to her parents, now she was supposed to be responsible for some sort of living breathing war machine? She doesn’t seem to have much choice other than to defer to the librarian’s relative expertise. After all he’s a real life faerie and until quite recently she hadn’t known that faeries existed. Still, the situation doesn’t sit right with her.

Adamantius is waiting where she left him in the doorway. He seems anxious, or as anxious as a formidable creature like him can be, and she wonders if he’s been like this ever since she left his sight. When he said he would stay by her side, she’d thought it was a sweet, if a little strange, declaration. She doesn’t know what to do with the reality of his dedication.

“Told you I’d be back,” she says, trying to keep her tone light. She shoots him a reassuring smile and it actually doesn’t feel as forced as she might’ve expected. Somehow, seeing him waiting for her is still a comfort to her. Maybe it’s all those days of spilling her guts to him in statue form. Somewhere in the back of her mind she can’t shake the feeling that this man is her friend, no matter what some people a thousand years ago had to say.

“I believed you,” he says lowly, casting a sideways glance at the librarian. “But faeries can be tricky.”

“Well I’m fine, and I’ve done some thinking too. Adamantius, I know you think you owe me something, but I don’t want you to serve me. Instead, if I ask you for a favor, can you please try your best to do it for me?”

Instantly the warrior lights up. If he had a tail he’s surely be wagging it, she imagines. “Anything. I would do anything to please you, Lady Willoughby.”

He’s missing the point, she thinks, but the enthusiasm is nice. With a great deal of caution, she takes his clawsome hands in her own. “Then here’s what I’m requesting. Stay here at the library with Mr Surehouser.”

Both of them look at her with alarm. “What?”

“I know there’s some bad blood between you two, but I consider you both my friends and I don’t want you to fight. Besides,” she admits. “I can’t really put you up at my place without someone finding out, and I’m pretty sure you’re a wanted criminal by now.” Anticipating his protests, she adds, “I’ll still come by every day. It’ll be just like before, except better because you’ll be free.” She lets her eyes drift over to meet Surehouser’s troubled gaze. “You’re going to stay free.”

Adamantius bows his head, although it seems to be just as much about hiding the sour look on his face as it is about any sense of fealty. “As you wish.”

“It’s going to be fine,” she assures him. “Just try not to kill each other when I’m not around.”

As she does her best to console the beast, Surehouser walks away shaking his head. She doesn’t stop him. She knew he wouldn’t like her decision but it’s the only thing that makes sense. This way she can keep Adami from terrorizing the neighborhood without having to take the responsibility of ordering him around. He’ll come around, she just knows it.

#original fiction #fantasy #writeblr #my writing #project: stone heart gambit

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leeeovitate · 4 years

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April 22,2020 3:23AM: It was not intended but this ended up becoming my high school memoir.

I sifted through my old journals. I have been obsessed with notebooks and pens back then, maybe a little bit until now. You see I wanted to be an artist. At least 5 of them were filled with songs and rubbish from cover to cover.I remember the first song I wrote way back in 2007 or 2008. It was called “Putting Traces” and the first I ever played was for my grandmother on her birthday. I played a video of it I recorded with my sister at her dinner party. I don’t think she appreciated it or maybe it just wasn’t any good but she was polite about it. It was called “Thank you for everything”. My first songs notebook was a tinee tiny one with the Eiffel Tower in black on the cover and silver on every page. Then I got obsessed with buying every journal that looks cute or has music related designs or the ones with London and Paris or other European countries that I would love to visit. Then I bought every pen to my liking and spent my lunch money on paperbacks. I was basically a resident at National Bookstore or the stationery section of every mall. I scanned them all tonight, those journals. I forgot about some songs but when I read the line it comes like a flashback to me. That is why I kept writing. It immortalizes the moment. When I play that song, I feel like the emotions turn into concrete and I could go back when I want to feel it again. I was so sure of myself in the songs I wrote before. I knew what I wanted and that was to make music. Maybe I had that dream of being magically sent a record deal. I wanted to have a world tour before 18 but the world was never in my favor. I remember setting a deadline and counting down like Lena did on Beautiful Chaos. I think I also set it on 100 days but nothing happened.

High school is the best years of my life. I remember one of my friends borrowing my songs journal and told me all my titles sounded nice. I have one friend who writes fiction, legit ones and we would talk after class until our fetch arrives and then we’d talk more on the telephone when we get home. I don’t have that in medschool. One time, our teacher made us do a school project. It was to write to a novel incorporating our topics on math class. Epic, I know. I planned it out alright, written everything with a plot but I never finished it and ended up rushing for the deadline. I won’t ever forget that. I loved doing it so much. My fiction writer friend, she ended up writing a sequel for the story she submitted as a math project. Then I also read some of the stories my classmates made. I felt surrounded by talented people and it felt really good. Then in English class, junior year we were required to have a green journal and have at least 3 entries per week. It could be a diary entry, poem, essay, sketch, whatever you like. We also had drama class. I remember saying the lines “The cat sat on the mat.... etc” with different emotions. I freaking nailed it. I loved it so much. The we were also asked to advertise a specific product we made up by pairs. Ours was a perfume and I played a fairy. The nicknamed me “Mama Fairy Tree Rapunzel Country Girl”. I had really long hair and used to braid it. Then I played guitar singing country songs. We also assigned ourselves to greek mythology characters, mine was Gaea. I was also quite tall back then and they say my limbs were long so I was like a tree with roots to the earth and that is where they all came from. We had to write a play for our final project. I was “musical director” and I was not good at my job but I freaking enjoyed it so much.

The senior year we had lit classics and we just have the best teacher on mythology and poetry. Wont ever forget him reprimanding me for reading “statue” wrong. Freshman year, we have 2-hour PE classes and the last hour was spent however we wanted. We would play and sometimes we would just sit around our teacher’s cassette player singing along to our favorite songs while the wind is blowing at the topmost floor of our high school building. Oh what I would do to go back. There was a time when I chose a ribbon as prop for gymnastics practical exam and danced to Avril Lavigne’s “Freak Out Let It Go”. I hated individual stage work but it was something we all had to do and my high school crowd were not mean. I used to choreograph dance routines, unbelievable if you see me now but yes, I remember when I did that. I would do it all over again. I have that one friend, the least I expected of all, who got into kpop. It was epic.

When we are feeling lost, our CLE teacher taugh us to open the bible at a random page and read those two sheets spread open. Whatever we have bothering us, God’s answer are within those pages and it is up to us how to interpret it. I think it also became a project like we were meant to do it everyday for a month or something. She collected money for a journal but it was never delivered though. I have no idea what happened. We also made a promise to meet in March 2020 or 2021 as a class but I think everyone forgot about it or are just too busy, these days. In high school, we made so many films too. Man it was great. You probably could already tell how much I enjoy acting and the I have this friend who is a really awesome video editor.

We also had the best advance chemistry and advance physics teachers. One time at the physics lab, I was busy reading my some Paulo Coehlo I did not notice that I got called in class. That was epic. My teacher threatened to confiscate my book, thank God she didnt. My only argument was “This is not a pocket book, Ms. Violeta.” Our statistics teacher, freshman year who entered the congregation of nuns kept saying “K” in class. It was really funny, my friend and I tallied the number of times she said it until we ran out of scratch paper. Would you believe that the highest grade I got in high school was in Geometry and the lowest I got was in Calculus? Lol I turned in an unfinished Calculus final exam because my tummy was upset but my teacher won’t accept it. I could not tell him what I was feeling at the time so I shaded the letter C in every item and I kind of flunked the exam. I was not that frustrated though. I was never the grade conscious type.

There is this cafe we frequented back then, It was called “Book Latte” and we got membership cards so we could rent books and chill in secluded spots. The place was really fancy but not that wide. Pizza Hut on the same mall became “our spot” with someone I used to consider one of my best friends. One of our friend’s became our go to for schoolworks and shooting videos or movie marathon. In math class again we had to do a song adaptation with video. We did a remix but Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade will always remind me of that. It goes “because tonight will be the night that I will study math over again don’t make me change my mind”. There was a competition in relation to Buwan ng Wika or our Foundation day every august. For the first 2 years of high school it was song adaptation and for the juniors and seniors it was song composition. For the first year, we did Awit Ng Kabataan by Rivermaya and my author/video editor friend wrote the lyrics. I think we skipped on sophomore year. I was not yet comfortable with exposing my songwriting in general at the time. I struggle with confidence issues until now. They assigned me for our junior year. I did it on guitar and piano. I had piano lessons when I was 9 but I did not appreciate it until years after. Our Environmental Science teacher who used to be in a band helped us out abit and they were rushing with the deadline for the song, I kind of backed off. My clubmate did it instead. Senior year, Had the song done early and we got first place. I was truly grateful.

I joined Guitaristas club freshman year. We were assigned into tutor-tutee. I was a tutee of course. I was assigned to someone who was like the great guitar player who was in a band and I was crushing on. He was so nice and he taught me guitar. I wonder if he still remembers me though. I don’t think he’ll recognize when we see eachother on the street. The the club changed it’s name to Tokata club and I spent two years there. We once played Back to December as a band on family day. The guy on drums is someone I was crushing on. I nicknamed him Orange because he told us about Battaglia delle Aranche, not sure if I remember that correctly. The past years I hated waking up early. Most often I’m late for class that they made me class monitor for like 2 years or so. I hated staying at home and I would wake up early. Some days I get to school at about sunrise and he would be there too. That was how we became really good friends and I became close to his younger brother too. My senior year, Speakers zone. It was a new club and it was accidentally not included in our new club ballot sheets. I think they accidentally printed out the old ones from last year. Our english teacher told us about it and only like 7 or 8 of us joined. All from our class. Every monday morning, we had to do a news report after flag ceremony. We were assigned sports new, weather, current affairs, celebrity, etc. It scared the shit out of me, stage fright and shit. I wanted to get over that so I forced myself to audition for our Literary Musical contest, newscasting category and got picked but I lost. I talk really fast and my nerves get the best of me. I was so scared, I wanted to chicken out minutes before the contest. I wanted to walk away from the stage instead of towards it.

We also had monthly trips and my favorite was doing grocery shopping the afternoon before with my groupmates. We assigned to prepare meals and took turns to cook. We went to islands, camps and other educational sites. It was so fun. Although I could not bloody swim and some days I feel sad because of being away from home. I missed 2 trips and forever hating my parents for it. I know they were just concerned but I missed out on alot. It was heartbreaking. I think it was because on our first trip, we climbed a mountain and stayed at a beach and I asked my parents to come over because my chest was aching but turns out I just needed rest. I don’t think I went home with them though or maybe I did, I kind of forgot. I stayed and missed the team building activities but I got to watch the games. Second trip, I missed. They talked about ghost soldiers and stuff. Third trip, we had to swim from one island to another which I couldn’t so I used a canoe, sort of. My mom accompanied us that time, she helped out with cooking and some other things. We stayed for 2 nights and one of my friend’s mom visited us too. Fourth trip, I think it’s that another one I missed. One time, we thought we discovered dinosaur remains, yeah our imagination were that wild. Some of us went fishing and the rest of us stayed at the Marine Biology site. We played ins and one of us tripped on a huge rock which was shaped like a dinosaur’s head. Then we started digging and then we talked about the islands around us making up stories about it. That night, we all slept at the rooftop and had a shadow show. Then we saw shooting stars. One unforgettable experience I had was getting lost in the mountains and getting help from NPAs because they freaking had rifles. It was raining and should have be frightening but at the time, it was more fun than scary and they brought us safe and sound to our campsite. I had a nightmare that night but I loved literally sleeping beneath the stars. I forgot how many trip we went to in total but I am thankful for each and every single one of them

It is funny how I went from a kid with all the big dreams to who I am today.

#kids #high school #life #hijas #memory

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