Chapter 5

Rossen, Lady of Flintenburrow, decided to accompany us to the study, with her was Finyas, the immediately appointed guard captain, who was taller and younger, and amusingly, also bald. Rossen had a change of clothing, a more comfortable one, still in gold. 

From what I perceive, this land is ruled under a king. Indeed, this is the same as the mystical age. Feudalism. If that is the case, Hester may be a soldier with no ruling authority, but if he is under the king. He has a higher stature of command than the Lady of Flintenburrow. In that aspect, he and I are the same. The commander let only three of his men join, the stairway was too narrow for them all.

 In robes of brown, a hunch man in a spectacle opened the door after Finyas pounded it. "Come in, my Lady. Commander Hester, a pleasure. Ah, I thought Captain Ulrick would also be joining, but I see Finyas…" The robed man stared at the sun insignia on Finyas' chest. "... Oh."

"Untimely it might be, Jhoveni, we require your expertise in an urgent matter." Rossen says, and she led us inside the Library. "Enough of the pleasantries and greetings, here we have Prince Lexander Oldblood, a Bearer. Do not ask the why or how, we are already certain he is. And the prince has plenty of questions for you."

There was a gleam of excitement in the scholar's eyes. "Oldblood you say. Hmmm. Certainly, certainly, my Lady! Ah, but for a moment." Lighted by candlelights on the wall, it revealed the untidiness of the Library. Books, scrolls, parchments, inks, pins, notes, and pens scattered everywhere. Jhovin began picking things up, sorting, and making things in order. "Forgive me, my Lady, I did not have time to prepare the chamber."

As the scholar arranged the Library to properly accommodate us, I dwell in a nearby stone window. Shadows of mountains and hills and forest fields, all black under the moonless night. Truth be told, I expected more when they say Library, not a chamber filled with clutter. It is supposed to be a room that empowers enlightenment. In the Marble Citadel, our Library was a grand structure with hundreds of archivists maintaining it. 

Master Librarian Ezko once said in my youth , "Knowledge is strength beyond strength, my prince. Even though we have attained peace in many years, still the ancient foe waits for us to make but a single mistake." There is not but a single way to determine the power of the sorcerers we fight, thus it is safe to assume they can end us with a single touch, a single strike, a single blow.

Hester had his men to guard outside, the Library is already crowded as it is. Rossen commanded her guard to fetch the maid servant. "Tell her to bring refreshments, Finyas. Is there a particular drink you like, prince?"

Parch was I, truth be told. "Water would suffice." She nodded and gestured to her guard.

"Peculiar it is to be visited by Bearer." Rossen said, her voice now turned to silk and butter. "Rare is it to see your kind nowadays. Especially one who is lost and about. I've only seen one before, wearing a mighty white armor, pristine and shining. I was only a child, many years ago. Sadly, I did not know his name. He's golden like you, prince. My captain had the pleasure of accommodating him. He could tell us more if you did not cook him alive." She glowered but did her best not to scream. Obviously, the Lady still detest me, awaiting for an apology that she will never hear.

"To strike the unknown is to strike Death himself." I always say. "The careless always walk with one leg held by Death. Thy guard captain should have been replaced many moons ago."

"Hmmmmm." I heard the Jhovine murmuring about. "Hmmmmm."

Lady Rossen mayhaps wanted to slap me, but restrained herself knowing full well what the holy fudge I am capable of. 

"He is right, you know, Lady Rossen. Ulrick's action has been reckless since your lord husband died. Hasty in decision, negligent in his duties, forgetful to his men." Hester says.

"Alright! Done!" The scholar shouted in triumph. He had cleared the long wooden table, devoid of papers or books. He stood straight now, like a teacher in front of his students, in a sense, mayhaps he was. His skin is pale due to lack of sunlight, and his body is shaped like a twig like a white worm. 

"Let us proceed then! My name is Jhovine, the only scholar in the entire Oswell region. I will answer to the best of my abilities any of your inquiries, prince." He said, twirling to his seat.

The refreshments came, wine and ale, as well as bread and butter, were served on plates. 

Finally. I look back to the little chickens from earlier and the questions I pressed upon them. Might as well be the same. 

"Where is this place?" I drink my cup of water.

A smile touched Jhovine's face and took out a scroll from a cabinet. Like in a theatrical performance, he uncurled it revealing a map. Images of lands scattered here and there, great oceans, and rivers of deep blue.

 "Here it is! Flitenburrow, the fifth island of Oswell. Where is Orwell, you might ask. The West of Ferrosa." Jhovine brandishes a stick, pointing and tapping the map.

Puzzled I was. "Is this some kind of jest, scholar?" 

"Hmmm. What do you mean, this is common knowledge, prince, all men know." Jhovine tilted his head. 

"That is not Ferrosa!" I burst out, standing. "Ferrosa forms only two large masses of land. Not this… this archipelago!"

Silence. They think me mad. This scholar is as useful as the little chickens.

Jhovine suddenly held out his hand. "Hold that thought, prince!" His face a mask of frown. Eyes serious as if he just had a revelation of some sort. Hastily, he crawled to the floor, like an idiot, and touched my mud-stained boots. Touched the cloth of my cloak, feeling its texture. I grabbed his hand before he could touch my face. 

"Apologies, prince, I got carried away." He scuttle and slump down to his seat, and sighed a long sighed. "I may have an inkling of what happened."

"Spit it out, scholar. I need to go to Rowtown's Edge."

"Hmmm. To fight the dreaded necromancer, Nevuchad, aye?"

"Such knowledge is yet to be revealed, scholar. How did thou know?" 

"Because Prince Lexander Oldblood, Bearer of the Grandflame, it had already happened. The Battle of Black and Flame, though only few records were kept after the Calamity War. Rowtown's Edge is gone, prince, turned to ash and dust." The scholar says, pointing to a barren piece of land on the map north of Flintenburrow. He took a gulp of wine. 

"It was devoured by a great fire as you died one thousand years ago."