Archived Feelings

Caden watched a female viera, a humanoid with mostly human features but elongated, long and fluffy – bunny ears, performing for the crowd amidst which Caden stood. She sat upon a small, foldable stool atop a portable stage, the crowd was remarkably sizeable. She played the guitar with a slow and steady rhythm that complemented the story she was telling.

“And then the hero slipped,” the music rhythm quickened to instill a sense of urgency in the listeners.

“But before he had time to react, something broke his fall and lifted him high into the air.”

She continued the tale, the music was a perfect companion to the events she was describing in her tall tale. The crowd was in awe.

At last, the story came to an end. Caden applauded along with the rest of the crowd, tossed a few coins, and moved on. After all, it was not unusual for traveling performers to erect a portable stage and put on a show on a crowded street. Still, something about her genuinely grabbed his attention every time he’d see her play. She was not only mesmerizing, but her finesse and storytelling talent also struck at his heart. He was always a sucker for a good story. He glanced over his shoulder. People were tossing coins into her hat, and she was chatting with a few audience members. He pondered for a moment, ‘A few coins are not enough… She deserves more, a truly unique gift for her talents. Yes, something special.’.

Shortly after the show, she packed her belongings, threw her bags into the magicart behind her, and hopped into the driver’s seat. He watched her with a twinkle in his eyes until she disappeared around the corner down the street.

“What ye up ta pal? Ain’t a place for a kid like yeself!”

Called out a stranger from the shadows of the dark alley where Caden stood. Something shimmered in his hand. His gentle smile turned evil, his hands were a blur, and the wall was now painted red, as was the cobble street upon which the fresh corpse laid. He knelt down, checked the pockets of a still warm body, pulled out some documents, ripped a necklace off the chain and then disappeared into the shadows.

“Objective completed; item received. Clean work, Caden?” inquired a man with a monocle, dressed as a butler, behind the counter of a hotel reception desk. He put the pendant and the documents into a bag and sealed it shut.

Caden nodded.

“The body will be discovered tomorrow morning, I’m certain of it.”

The man in the suit pushed an envelope toward Caden.

“Your payment,” he said.

“Anything else?”

Caden tilted his head to the side.

“What’s the… rarest flower in the world?”

The man in the suit turned, putting the bag away.

“Hmm, I reckon that’d be Meniva,” he responded, an undertone of admiration in his voice.

“It is rumored that only a dozen of them exist at any one time. An odd question.”

Caden shrugged.

“Intel is part of the deal, just a side gig, don’t worry about it.”

He left, night fell and he slept, and when the dawn broke, he eagerly prepared to learn more about the Meniva flower. The first stop was the florist; as expected, he knew little about this rare specimen, but he offered a high price for it, should the rogue bring him one. The next destination was a hut in the forest, home to a witch specializing in herbs and potions. A traveling witch in fact, meeting her was indeed fortunate for Caden.

She was friendly, albeit strange, and wasn’t a she at all. Before him was an aged, wrinkly man who went by the name of Max, known as the traveling witch, wizard, or Witcher. Caden wasn’t certain, and in the end, he left the hut more bewildered and confused than he was before. He fetched a ride back to town on the locomotive, but no ordinary locomotive, it was one that ran on ghost tracks. Summoning one of these was rather costly, but it was efficient since the tracks appeared wherever the passenger desired and there were practically no limits where this locomotive could take the passengers.

The next stop in his search was the library, a fairly obvious and normal destination on quest for knowledge, in an extraordinarily abnormal location. Per Max’s suggestion, Caden found himself traveling across the continent by the aforementioned train – a journey that took no less than a full day. This provided ample time for him to ponder why he was going to such lengths for someone he had only met a dozen or so times.

He held a Polaroid picture of the Viera bard in his hand, absolutely mesmerized by it. ‘Why do you captivate me?’ This thought kept echoing in his mind, but the answer remained enshrouded by the unknown. The night passed swiftly, the scenery was changing quickly as the locomotive sped through the air to the destination.

When the train at last came to a halt, he found himself in the magical land of Rivera, in the wondrous lands where nature and harmony prevailed.

He walked the streets, frequently asking for directions to the library. Shortly after, he found himself in the grand library, where now and then a book would flutter past him, pursued by an apprentice librarian with a bug net. At the reception desk, his inquiry was filed, and he was asked to wait for a librarian guide, who appeared before him as a girl in purple robes with a nerdy appearance.

“I’m Clare.”

She introduced herself with a sweet tone, omitting any unnecessary details.

She looked him up and down. A stereotypical rogue assassin. Dark clothes, a hidden dagger was as obvious as the moon in the night sky, and another one in his boot. His chiseled face was decorated by a stubble and a couple of insignificant scars. His hair was short. She chuckled, “My, my. I can guess your profession at a single glance. You really ought to hide it better.”

Her childish chuckle somehow lightened his mood, despite being mesmerized and awestruck by the grand library that stretched seemingly endlessly above him, spanning through the clouds, ‘why are there clouds indoors?’ he found himself wondering, but it didn’t matter, this place was so bizarre that somehow indoor clouds were normal. Wizards walked through walls and on ceilings, some floors of the library appeared to twist and turn 90 degrees. This was a phenomenal place, one he couldn’t even dream of seeing, and yet he stood right in its midst, struggling to believe it existed, struggling to believe that any of this was real.

“Hello,” he replied, “I’m Caden. I’m looking for…”

She nodded, “Yes, the Meniva flower. Come with me, records of these rare flowers are stored in the archive. Their rarity makes them somewhat unknown, and knowledge of them, is all but obsolete. No one seems to be searching for them anymore,” she explained, gesturing for him to follow.

“And remember, please refrain from touching anything, especially in the archives, where we’re heading.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“That strict?”

She shook her head as she guided him to a round circle on the floor, then spoke in a language he couldn’t understand. The circle separated from the floor and began to descend into the dark abyss.

“No, rather because it’s dangerous.”

“How so?” inquired Caden, staring into the ever-darkening void into which they were descending.

“In the grand library, all books, tomes, scrolls, and artifacts are stored in perfect harmony to cancel out each other’s effects.”

Caden nodded.

“So… if one is removed, the harmony is broken.”

She nodded, confirming his guess.

“And the power of the said tomes can run wild… Occasionally resulting in a loose werewolf, or a whole dimension.”

She shrugged.

“So, be careful.”

He offered her a nervous smile as a bead of sweat formed on his brow.

“Y…yes, noted…”

She chuckled.

“Oh, relax! It’s not that bad. Our librarians are the best in the world, no, wait, across all the worlds.”

She corrected her remark and then gave him a playful chuckle again and then continued to speak enthusiastically.

“Did you know that the library links endless dimensions? Even the almighty Overseer visits us occasionally.”

Caden simply nodded, not grasping half of what she was saying.

“Yeah, uhm… so how far down is this?”

The floor suddenly stopped, feint glow from it barely illuminated the dark floor around them. As Clare stepped out of the circle, the floor began to glow, a gentle glow guided their way.

Does he give in to curiosity and his thieving instincts and snatch a book off a shelf?

G.G.: PICK

A.H.: Letting his curiosity get the better of him does sound like chaos. I’ll take it!

F.A.: Chaos ahoy!

L.L.: He picks a book, obviously. Since he has no self-restraint whatsoever.

X.K.: well.. he is just a rogue.. so he picks it up

N.T.: He doesn’t seem like the thinking type so pick it up!

X.K.: but she can read his thoughts and maybe she will stop him before he manages to do so…

X.K.: she is quite something

R.R.: :think

G.G.: (that library management sounds like when I was playing lobotomy corp, everything looks normal until stuff gets out of control lol)

R.R.: Maybe he just yoinks one without inspecting it

R.R.: Klepotomaniac style

G.G.: he secretly picks one

P.D.: Random book with a lewd cover, nodders

O.F.: It would still influence the other books next to it, nyo?

He grinned, curiosity got the best of him in the end. The library’s archives, hidden knowledge stashed away in the dark, hidden from the world!!! ‘It could be anything! It could be priceless!’ With each step, his excitement grew, the gentle echoes of their steps were soothing, but also functioned as concealment of any muffled shuffling. He swiftly picked a book from the shelf while passing by – a small, slightly protruding, lilac-colored book. A quick grab and stash. He didn’t have time to even glance at it. The books beside the one he snatched momentarily buzzed, then just as suddenly they went silent. Clare was seemingly unaware of the act of thievery that boldly took place right behind her.

She gestured towards a reading table in a dark corner, offering him a seat.

“Please wait here, I’ll fetch the tomes that should have details on the flower.”

He nodded and took the offered seat. As she disappeared into the shadows, he seized the opportunity and peeked at the book he had snatched earlier – a worn tome, the title of which read, ‘Cooking Rocks with Actual Rocks.’ He squinted at it, muttering a quiet and confused, “The fuh…”

As he flipped it open, he read over one of the recipes:.

Caramel-Glazed Rocks

Collect coin-sized pebbles, smoothed by the river.

– Melt sugar in a pot, cook on low heat, then toss in the pebbles. Increase heat and continue mixing in clockwise direction, unless you’re in the northern hemisphere, then mix in counterclockwise direction.

– Make sure to flip the pebbles every five minutes, three times. When all pebbles had undergone three flips, remove from fire and let cool under fresh air, with winds no stronger than 10kmh.

– Enjoy cold or heated, the caramelized pebbles also make for a great appetizer.

The other recipes were not much different; they were indeed cooking recipes using rocks.

She returned with the tomes and together they examined them. However, it was mostly Clare that took notes as she read through the details of the flower.

“There’s…half a page is missing…” she pointed out while examining the tome.

“How peculiar…I’ll need a temporal wizard.”

She scribbled notes of this in her personal notebook and then shifted her focus back to the client’s research request, and finished it up. Meanwhile, Caden was mainly spacing out and dozing off beside her. When all was done, she presented him with a hand-drawn map, pointing to the southern peaks.

“Southern peaks?”

He examined the map while sleepily rubbing his eyes. She smiled.

“Mhmm, as I previously noted, practically nobody dares search for those flowers anymore. Good luck.”

With haste she got rid of him from the library and headed to get the damaged tome repaired. Time was of the essence, literally – for she needed a temporal wizard for the fix.

He walked outside, it was early morning, the gentle morning sun pleasantly warmed his skin, a welcomed sensation after spending the night in the musty, dark, library’s archive, although the place had a homey atmosphere for him, he was beginning to miss it a little now that he was out in the streets again.

A melody caught his attention, a tune he found familiar. He rounded the corner from where the melody came, and there she sat on her stool, guitar firmly in hand, eyes closed, chanting a song, a story once more, to the rhythm of her guitar’s gentle notes. A small crowd began to gather around her. Her eyes opened, and the music abruptly stopped.

She gasped, “What? Where am I?”

Shocked and disturbed, she scanned the crowd for a familiar face and the scenery around her for a familiar sign, but nothing was recognizable to her. Her concerned gaze fluttered past Caden a few times, seemingly oblivious to having seen him before. He blended well into the crowd despite his rather peculiar outfit. Although concerned at first, a crowd was gathered and she, being a performer that she was, resumed her show. She weaved a tale as captivating as all her others, a tragic story of a space-faring crew that landed on a planet of fey, but never made it out.

After the performance, she frantically scanned the crowd yet again. Her eyes fell upon Caden, the only one in the crowd who was in no rush to leave. He watched her pack. At last, she gave him her full attention.

“You know me?”

She asked curiously, holding a guitar in one hand, and belongings in a bag tossed over her shoulder. He gave her a warm smile.

“I’ve seen you perform before, but it was far from here. What brings you here?”

She shrugged.

“How should I know? I was performing, I was in the flow, closed my eyes and swayed to the rhythm. When I reopened them, I was here.”

She glanced around and shuddered. He offered her coffee, to which she happily agreed.

After a lengthy chat at the café, Caden suggested she visit the grand library. She expressed she didn’t feel safe around wizards and would prefer to be accompanied by someone she knew. After further discussion, Caden made a deal with her: he’d take her back home and escort her personally, but first, he needed to obtain something special for someone special.

He got a room for her at the nearest inn, and she settled in to await the return of Caden, a mysterious rogue who had promised her safety and an escort back home. The town was serene, although peculiar to people hailing from a land where machines dominate over magic, but she quickly got used to the abnormalities that were considered normal here.

Meanwhile, Caden used one of his two remaining spectral-transits to summon a train that took him to the southern peaks. For a rogue, finding himself in the wilderness was nothing unusual, however, mountain climbing was far outside his expertise and preferences. He was much more comfortable sneaking through windows and leaping on rooftops. Nevertheless, his feelings and desires pushed him forward. He longed to see her smile for him and desired to present her the most unique of gifts.

After enduring two days and three nights of starvation, battling the elements, and facing against all odds stacked against him, he finally found himself standing on lush green grass. Bright, blinding light enveloped the horizon, there was nothing to see from the peak except whiteness. A voice echoed around him, it came from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. It came from the land, every strand of grass, the air itself, but also from inside his head.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

His eyes widened, he was cautious, weary of the stranger. A figure of a man wearing black robes sat by a flower that emitted a faint glow, one of few. Startled by this, Caden reached for his dagger but the voice stopped his action in its track.

“No need,” the voice echoed in his head.

“I am merely here to admire.”

The figure rose to his feet and then vanished. The surrounding whiteness persisted, with only the voice and figure gone.

Caden let out a relaxed sigh, uncertain if that was a figment of his imagination or an actual deity, but he didn’t care either way. The lush green field atop the snowy mountain peak already made no sense as it was, so a strange mysterious hooded man was a mere drop in the ocean of his confusion.

Amidst the lush greenery protruded three golden flowers, resembling wheat in shape but not the size. He knelt by one of them, his trembling finger grazed its stock. The surrounding grass pulsed when he touched it. With a swift gesture and mind full of resolve, he drew his dagger and slashed the flower’s stem. Its glow became brighter than before, but in that instant, the grass around it withered, resulting in a patch of dry grass that was now contrasting the lush greenery with the blinding whiteness, creating a strange but somehow beautiful symphony of colors.

His descent went faster, and a ticket was used to return. Though he requested a stop at Rivera to pick up his crush, the conductor, albeit annoyed, agreed, for the last ticket was a VIP ticket. Ghostly tracks spanned the air and the train transported him effortlessly back to his dear one.

The train came to a halt just outside the city. He had an hour to find with his beloved and board it once more. With the glowing flower wrapped in cloth and stashed in his pouch, he roamed the streets of Rivera in search of the bard to whom he wished to present the flower. Someone fell off a broom behind him. A magical watering can suddenly ran out of water at the florist’s shop and left the florist baffled. A frog transformed back into a man who ribbited at Caden before darting off into the alley, desperately trying to cover his private parts. Other oddities kept happening around him, but he remained focused on his task, for now.

Does he stop to examine the next oddity and abnormality that occurs, or does he continue on his quest to find his beloved bard?

L.L.: Only if he thinks it might have something to do with her.

A.H.: Screw those abnormalities, he’ll gift that (cursed) flower to his beloved and they’ll live happily ever after (for the next hour).

F.A.: to the bard! the heart wants

G.G.: I’m with Atheris

N.T.: Find the bard!!

C.N.: Probably runs in enough oddities while searching for the bard

F.A.: bard turned into a lizard, barking at him

Oddities continued to occur more frequently than usual as he roamed in search of the bard, of his beloved. Eventually, he caught a gentle melody that was ever so familiar to him. He let the soothing tune guide him, and at last, there she was, at the street’s end, performing on her small portable stage. A smile spread across his lips. He quickened his pace, eager to see her and hear the remainder of the story she was telling.

The story she narrated was about Kath, an enthusiastic explorer in search of a fountain of youth, and the hefty price she paid upon its discovery, along with the hardships she encountered on her journey towards it.

When he approached, the bard’s melody distorted. It turned from a beautiful, charming tune that captivates all listeners, to a miserable plucking of out-of-tune strings that lacked rhythm and harmony.

Her face began to shift and change, turning from a gorgeous, alluring Viera to an older woman with missing hair and a disfigured face. He gasped. Before him, his beloved bard turned from a woman of dreams to a hag of nightmares. The crowd, shocked by the transformation of her voice, instrument, and body, quickly dispersed.

She cried out, “NO!”

Her gaze fell upon the rogue:.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

His feelings for her faded the moment her face changed. But it wasn’t the looks – it was something else, as if a charm had been broken.

A charm? ‘Charm?’ He thought to himself, ‘this bitch charmed me?’.

She threw her guitar at him, an easy dodge for a professional assassin.

“What did you do?”

She demanded once more. He reached for his dagger, his love and affection for her was now replaced by anger and frustration.

“What did you do to me, you hag?”

She let out a howling, bone chilling scream, much like a banshee.

“I WAS LIVING A PERFECT LIFE!”

She shouted.

“AND YOU RUINED IT ALL WITH THAT CURSED ANTIMAG FLOWER!! FOOOOL!”

She squatted down and darkness enveloped her. Before Caden could react, a bone-chilling screech echoed through the city’s streets and she took flight, disappearing shortly after.

“BANSHEE!”

A guard standing on the roof of a building called out. His attention shifted from the fleeting demon to the rogue on the street beneath.

“Get the damned antimag flower out of here, you idiot! We can’t pursue the demon without magic!”

Caden turned to leave, to run, to flee with his conflicted feelings. He dashed down the cobblestone street. Occasionally, an object or person would crash or fall in his vicinity. That was, until it was he who was tumbling down onto the stoney street after running into someone. A flash of purple momentarily filled his vision. As he scrambled back up to his feet he grunted apologetically, “ugh! Crap, my bad, I’m in a bit of a hu…” he paused mid-sentence when he noticed Clare laying on the ground.

The archivist from the library sat up and let out an annoyed sigh.

“I know I’m short, doesn’t mean I’m unnoticeable! Sheesh… I was just looking for you too, and my phase shift didn’t activate.”

She examined her hands, there was a small cut on her left palm that she couldn’t heal with a spell.

“Right, anyways, YOU are coming with me by the way!”

She said and then her eyes widened and a slight blush painted her cheeks a gentle rosy color as she noticed Caden standing there, offering her a hand.

She took his hand, got up, dusted off, and then squinted at him.

“You got the flower, huh?”

He nodded at her.

“Y..yea.”

She smiled at him sarcastically.

“Wonderful! Delightful! IT! CANCELS! MAGIC!”

She tried to extend her hand out to demand he hand it over to her, only to realize she was still holding onto his hand. She swiftly pulled her hand away and then extended it outward, palm up.

“Hand it over.”

He reached for the flower in his bag, took it out and carefully placed it in the palm of her hand, still wrapped in cloth.

“Yes… I uhh, noticed that it does, and got yelled at because of it.”

She carefully unwrapped it and admired it for a brief moment. Its petals were metallic, golden, and sparkling. It vaguely resembles wheat but made of metal. Its glowing aura was mesmerizing. She wrapped it back up and smiled at the rogue.

“Come with me. You’re the first person to find one of these in the past two centuries, I need to document everything for the archives.”

He obeyed her demands and followed in her step.

They used a back entrance to the library due to the anti-magic properties of the flower, which had a radius of about five meters. Their main goal was to ensure that the flower would not disrupt anything or anyone, and wouldn’t put any lives in danger.

Once they made it to the archives, the flower was handed over to the arch wizards who placed it in the library’s treasury, a vault housing magical artifact of indescribable powers.

His journey for the flower was thoroughly recorded by Clare, as was his encounter with the supreme being, the Overseer, who, at this very moment, observed them from the shadows of the room where the note-taking took place. But by the time Caden noticed his presence, he had disappeared. Clare, on the other hand, found his encounter extremely intriguing, as very few have the opportunity to interact with the Overseer.

“And on that… I believe all the matters have been addressed.”

She said, closing the tome she was writing in, the very same tome where she had learned of the flower initially, and the same tome that was missing half a page before. Somehow, it now had a few brand-new and empty pages in it, in which she took those notes. Simultaneously, a magic quill transcribed his encounter with the overseer in a different book, a book he was not allowed to touch, or even peek into.

Caden got up to leave.

“Well then! I best be on m…”

He turned and then froze in his track when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Not so fast, little rogue.”

Clare spoke in a sly tone. She leaned closer to him. He felt her breath on his ear, and then her sweet gentle whisper, that sent shivers through his spine.

“I know you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

He shivered.

“Uhh… s…sorry!”

He admitted to his guilt. Slowly, he pulled out the ‘Cooking Rocks with Actual Rocks’ from his pouch, turning around to present it to her. She glanced at the book, then chuckled.

“Oh, these are great! The cooking series is by the greatest wizard-chef to have ever existed. He created these magical tomes that can utilize anything for cooking to produce actual, edible meals, out of anything. They’re enchanted books! Truly fascinating. Oh my goodness, he also has one for ‘Cooking Insects,’ and…”

She continued to ramble about the ‘Cooking X with X’ series for the next half hour.

Caden didn’t notice the time passing in her company. She was charming and quirky, and kept telling him about various magic tomes in the archives, even showing some of them to him. Her company was pleasant, and she was smart, cute, and fun. Caden found himself settling in the town of Rivera and frequenting the archives since then.

Although deep inside his desire to hunt the banshee and seek revenge persisted, that desire faded away over time, and got replaced by his new duties as the official ‘Artifact Scavenger’ for the grand library.

Even though occasionally he’d think of the banshee, how she was out there, fooling innocent people and charming them, but he was more than content with his new life, new responsibilities, and a new found love, his partner, Clare the archivist.

Author’s Note

This story is partially set in the same world as The Traveling Stray Sheep Bar. Especially the (grand) library.

Other tales mentioned by the bard are references to the following stories: Grimwood Forest and Lush Orbit.