woah this is cool
He was a man. We all assumed he was one of us, a wanderer. He showed up time to time, showing the Readers and Teachers gifts from the exotic parts of the outworld. The outworld he called it. He considered the Library as a realm of it's own, that the outworld is far too simple to what dark secrets lurk within the confines of the Library. Well those are only his thoughts.
I was there. I was there when he first showed up. And I'm the only one he knows he showed up. Others assume he was always there. His powers in the arcane is strong, capable of controlling the minds of the Readers, the Students, and the Teachers. He couldn't control my mind though. He tried. I felt his influence. But his subtle yet powerful magic could not penetrate me defenses. Obviously he was not of our world. My world. He does not belong in this place for he knows too much, sees too much, understands too little. I can see it in the way he marvels every time he shows up and leave. When he shows up his marvel dances at the rims of his spectacles. When he leaves I can see the sag in his shoulder, his slow shuffling of feet, as if he doesn't quite want to escape. He leaves, but he always return.
I was reading, in my usual corner of the Library. My sanctuary from others. Yes although we Readers strand together for a common goal we are still isolationists, preferring to be alone deep in our studies and thoughts. At heart we always attempt to stray from others. That's how I was able to see through his facade. He always stuck too close to others. Other Readers, always curious about what they were reading. Other Students, always curious about what they were learning. Other Teachers, always curious about what they were teaching.
"What do you want?"
I looked up from my book. I caught a glimpse of the man, it was him. Him. He was stalking toward me, his usual apparel with a leather duster, red patterned bandanna and spectacles. He was quickly approaching. I jumped back racing toward a corner I can hide myself. There! I spotted a dark corner with a visible view of my belongings. Quickly, like a madman, I dashed, I need to go faster I grunt.
"Celeritas mortimum" I whisper to myself. Using God's Grace I ran and vanished into the shadows. Safe from the observation of him.
"What do you mean you need me back?" He approached. I spotted him approach my belongings, looking at it, while still deep in conversation. What was he using to communicate? A spell? A Scroll? He turned and I saw it. A phone! I almost fell out of my hiding place. Phones are unable to function in the Library. It has been proven time and time again, the magic in this place simply destroys any electronics. I need to do something, phones can be tracked, they can be recorded, the Library could be compromised.
"Hexus mortimum" I whisper.
"I can't come back I already told you tha-" A shower of sparks erupted from the phone. He screamed and dropped the phone. The phone erupted into flames. FLAMES! Before I could act, the man pulled out his canteen from within his duster and messily poured it over the phone. He stood there looking confusingly at his was phone. I needed to act. Act. Act now.
"Prohibere mortimum!" I yell, revealing myself.
"What the hell" He looked distraught. He attempted charging me. Ha good luck with that. He was stuck, a simple holding spell for any sorcerer. Anyone could undo it with a snap of a competent wizard's fingers, but as I suspected, he had no idea what it was. He was obviously not of this world. My suspicions were correct, he is an outsider, a fly on the wall listening on every conversation. Listening.
"What do you want?" He snapped at me as if I was some amateur.
"Who are you? What are you? A Merchant? A Bookburner? A Jailor? A Madman? One of the Devout? Where do you come from? What do you intend to do?" I snap back
"So many questions for a young man."
"Well then answer them."
"I see it in your face. You know what I am."
"Well, not what you are, but what you are not. Let me tell you: you are not one of us."
We stared at each other for a few seconds, not speaking. This was frustrating. He, although of no power, obviously has had much more experience than I. What should I do to make him talk? What will you do? What can you do?
"Who are you?" I ask. That was the only logical place to start.
"I have had many names."
"Like a Jailor?" I asked accusingly.
"You speak of the Jailors, and I must admit, I do not know who they are"
"Oh I'm sure you've heard of 'the Foundation'."
"Oh are those who you call the Jailors?" He chuckles softly.
"So who are you then?" I asked again.
"If the Foundation is the Jailors, please call me the Warden"
"Yes. A Warden, metaphorically of course, I would do no good as a Warden."
I started to chuckle. Who did this guy think he is? A Warden of the Jailors? That group of so called 'elites' rarely get off of their mighty throne to sign a piece of paper, much less capable of infiltrating the Library. So who was this person? Why is he here? How was he able to get in without magic? Was he a Madman? No they were capable of magic.
"So, are you just going to keep me suspended here?"
I looked at him.