Decay.
If there was one word you would associate with Lioteca Castle Town, it would be that. From inside the rustic carriage you peer out the window, scanning your eyes on the moulding, infested stone that lines the walls meant to protect a country. Guards look down upon your carriage with a mixture of exhaustion and suspicion, able to sense that something may be amiss but being collectively too tired to report it. Without a word, the carriage comes to a stop at the front gate, the massive wooden structure being eaten away by time, with insects chewing through the edges and making them brittle and screws holding the door to its hinges loosely hanging out. You open the curtain slightly on the window to your right and see a grumpy and miserable looking old man standing in a small booth covered by a rough glass cover, raising a disgruntled glance up from their paperwork to see your rustic vehicle come to a stop. With a small grunt, he gets out of his seat and pushes aside a small swinging gates, approaching your window. You instinctively move backwards, fumbling slightly as your gangly arms struggle to support your retreat into the shadows.
"Your documents. Hand them over."
His voice was raspy but you can't help but feel a small tinge of jealousy; his words are still easy enough to recognise, unlike the hoarse and croaky voice you could muster. His command is followed by three successive raps to the side of the carriage, each less patient than the last. You left arm shoots down to your bag, hastily opening it and reaching inside and after a few seconds you find your fingers grasping around a crumpled piece of parchment. The moment you find your grip, you skittishly slide to the right of the seat and slowly open a crack in your window with your right hand, shoving the quickly uncrumpled parchment a few centimetres in front of the old man's face. After a quick glance he snorts and takes a few steps back and you retract your arm back into the carriage, for the possibility of him trying to sneak a glance at what you looked like.
"I remember when royal decrees had gold lacing. I feel sorry for you buddy, you got stuck with brown."
In the dim lighting, you squint at the decorations tracing the edge of the parchment, feeling like the colour was closer to a bronze.
"Anyway, I'll let you on through. Enjoy your st…"
The old man paused for a moment before muttering something under his breath. You feel like they said something like 'good luck', but you're not entirely sure.
With that, the massive wooden doors creaked open, it's movement jumpy and random instead of the smooth and dramatic moment it once was. You quickly jump back towards the window, peeking through the gap in the curtains towards the outside world. It was somehow worse than you remember.
Despite having the structure of a grand image, with large castle on top of a hill surrounded by homes, Lioteca felt pathetic. The homes of people were the exact same, copied over and over with no regard for the needs of anyone who would live in them, giving off the eerie vibe that gave you a chill every time you came back. The peasants on the streets, women and children, dying of illnesses but unable to seek help due to the price of medicine. Sewage running down small drains on the side of the road, clogging up in sections and spilling over onto the main street. The worn-down stone of the street had been trod a hundred too many times but no matter how many cracks or uneven surfaces would appear, they would never been maintained. That stood in contrast to the castle looking down upon it all; pearly white stone with lavish silk banners wrapped around seemingly anything, alongside rich red flags that lazily flapped in the wind.
Despite an underlying feeling of loyalty, home wasn't exactly the word you'd like to describe it. You move the curtain back and close your eyes, leaning into the back of your chair as you hum yourself a small tune.
After what felt like several hours, the carriage came to a stop, with the coachman opening the door from the outside with a judgemental glare. Taking a hint, you quickly grab your possessions and exit, making sure to hand the man a small tip.
"Hey. Is it right if I take a puff out here?"
The man pushes the silver coin back towards you, instead taking out an ancient looking pipe inscribed with messily cut runes along the outside of it. Almost immediately you shake your head and after forcing the coin into the coachman's hand, you point towards the castle directly to your side.
"Only if you're royalty."
With those parting words, you begin to walk away and as you leave earshot you hear the coachman mumble before getting onto his carriage.
"We're not even allowed to enjoy killing ourselves."
+++
You walk through the castle, a bastion of all that is clean and holy as a shambling mess, body burnt and shrivelled up with only a torn and dirty cloak to disguise your disgusting figure. The halls are mostly empty, but that makes it hurt more when each and every guard, political figure or member of the elite turns their nose up towards you and walks towards the edges of the corridor. Each step you take with your head hung low feels like agony, the reflection in the marble a constant reminder of your place, but despite that you push through. Eventually you will reach you destination and it will be all worth it.
Eventually.
+++
The royal library of Lioteca. There were no real words to describe it, but if you had to express how you felt about it in two words, it would be 'lost potential'. From what you've experienced, there have only been three people who have ever stepped in the library; yourself, a single old lady serving as the librarian and a young woman, some daughter of a baron. Despite the library being massive with shelves packed it knowledge, it was essentially for show; when it was only being used by three powerless people, was there a point in having millions of pages filled with knowledge? As you enter, you nod towards the librarian, who nods back as she reads another book at her seat. Without hesitation, you march straight up the stairs towards the second floor, circling around towards the biology section and scanning through the spines. After a few seconds, you find your finger tracing the book you're looking for.
'The Blestmat Beastiary: Vol 1'
You snatch the book up alongside the three other volumes beside it but once you place the four in your hands and begin to walk back towards the counter, you realise something is wrong. Immediately picking out the third and fourth volumes, you flip through the pages counting the page numbers, finding that a dozen pages in each book were missing. The were no obvious marks that the pages had been removed from the book; they were cut in a way that intentionally hid their absence to the common eye. You internally groan for a moment before continuing back down the stairs, approaching the librarian with the books opened.
"If you're going to ask where the pages are, I haven't got any idea."
You quietly close the books, stacking them on top of each other and placing them on the counter. The librarian quickly made a small note down before looking back up, smiling gently.
"Here you go. Do you think you can get them back in on time?"
You shake your head quickly. The librarian frowns for a moment, rapping her left shoulder with her fingers on her right hand while thinking.
"How long?"
You hold up three spindly fingers up towards her.
"Maybe more."
Your voice is a barely audible croak but the librarian seems unbothered by the monster-like voice you have.
"Well, I doubt anyone will be missing those old things anyway. This'll be out little secret, okay?"
She immediately crumpled the note, shoving it in her pocket, before sending you off with a smile as she returned to her book. You quietly nod to her before leaving the library, your mind set on one thing; it was time to do some snooping.