Epic Fantacea #14 a library and an old friend  

rm_Trypsoul3 39M
17 posts
4/4/2006 12:19 am
Epic Fantacea #14 a library and an old friend

Mourna made his way up the stairs of the ziggurat that was the great library of Mathnau Au`i, past several very alert and attentive guards who failed to notice him.
Near the top of the ziggurat, he turned from the monolithic stairs onto a stone walkway and within a couple of minutes was rounding the side of the pyramidal structure.
He turned into a passage that led into a long corridor, branching into another passage going left and another heading to the right. He took neither passage. Instead he stopped at the dead end at the intersection, which was a wall with a mural painted on it.
The picture was that of a scholarly-looking man holding a quill in one hand and a key in the other. The man stood before an ornate and sturdy looking closed door. Resting against the base of the door was a nondescript open book.
With his index finger, Mourna first touched the quill, then the key, then the book, and lastly the door, all the while reciting an ancient hymn in a long-dead language, which spoken in the common tongue would have translated into the following phrase:
Holding the pen
It becomes the Key.
Opening the Book
It becomes the door.
The wall disintegrated before his eyes, revealing a wall of seemingly-living energy, pulsating and shimmering with an intense golden light, beautiful to any who would see it, but only a few ever would. The sourceror walked through the glimmering sheet of energy, passing through it, feeling a tingle of static-like sensations over his body.
And then he was standing in the very center of this bastion of knowledge and temple of time.
Mourna, or the Traveller as some yet-unwritten history books would call him, had walked and ventured through many places, times, dimensions, demenses, realms, worlds, planes, and realities, but nothing impressed more than this great library, housing more knowledge, ideas, stories, facts, and philosophies than any other library in the known world of mortals.
All around him were shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, parchments, writs, maps, tablets, slates, and every kind of media known to the civisilised world. (And then some.) "Impressive" was the word that came to the sourceror's mind as he looked up, and could see no top to a single shelf, and as he looked in each and every direction, seeing no end any shelf either.
Not able to contain his normally calm and collective self, he let out a brief whistle of appreciation.
"Hello, Mourna," said a voice, in a manner strongly suggesting that he had been expected.
"Greetings Scribion," said the sourceror, smiling truly and sincerely, as he turned around to face one of his oldest and dearest friends.

--to be continued--

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