[color=lightgray][center][h1][color=red]FLASHBACK[/color] [color=5486ae]John[/color] & [color=D0B4EC]Charlotte[/color][/h1] [h3]Part 2[/h3][/center] [color=5486ae]Time:[/color] Ignis 1 Afternoon [color=5486ae]Location:[/color] The Sorian Library [hr] And so, they left the clamor of the Tough Tavern behind. The streets of Sorian carried them quickly toward the city’s great Library, which was very close by. The great dome above was lit up with bright sunlight, fractured into shards of gold through stained glass. Rows upon rows of books towered around them, their spines catching the green glow of lamps situated on the coffee tables. Leather chairs sagged under the weight of guests lost in the world of their books. The vastness of the hall seemed to hush even the sound of turning pages as Charlotte, satchel in hand, stepped onto the marble floor. [color=D0B4EC]“Oh, it’s still glorious,”[/color] she breathed, her voice hushed in reverence. John, having been here a couple of days ago, had his awe suppressed, but he did look around a couple of times. Say what one will about Caesonia, they knew how to build beautiful buildings. He led the way to one of the librarians, one facing the entrance. [color=5486ae]”Good day sir. Did you happen to be here yesterday afternoon?”[/color] John asked. [color=5486ae]”Do you remember a kid coming in here? He is ten years old, with…”[/color] He looked over to Charlotte, hoping she would fill in the rest of the details. The man at the desk was an older fellow, his thinning brown hair stuck out in tufts as if he had been wrestling with somebody and had lost. Charlotte stepped forward, her smile gentle. [color=D0B4EC]“Good day, sir. We are searching for any information regarding a missing boy. His name’s Steven; he is ten years old, and he has blonde hair…. He may have come in yesterday afternoon.”[/color] The man blinked, then shook his head. [color=green]“Yesterday? Oh, no, no, that wouldn’t have been me. I was off shift. The one you’ll want—that’ll be Maurice—he should be along shortly to relieve me.”[/color] He lifted a weary hand toward a cart groaning under the weight of books. [color=green]“While you’re waiting… if you wouldn’t mind lending me a hand with these, I’d be much obliged. Seems I’ve let them pile up again. Would you please put these away in the proper shelves?”[/color] He gave a sheepish smile. Charlotte glanced sidelong at John, the corners of her lips lifting. [color=green]“I suppose that would be alright, seeing as we have to wait anyway. ”[/color] John rubbed his nose bridge and sighed. This was free labour. An unknown fact about John was that he was part of a movement that pushed for a recently passed law to pay salaries for extra. It only applied to government workers for now. He was, once again, reminded that the rest of the world didn’t have the same standards as the Varians yet. [color=5486ae]”Sure.”[/color] He answered curtly. If anything, it’d be better to be on the good side of the librarian if they were going to get help from them. He came over to the cart, glanced at the content quickly, then held up a hand to Charlotte. [color=5486ae]”Let’s reorganize first. This is a mess.”[/color] He leaned down and took out two books, one of which was named ‘Turn Right at Aunerva’ and the other named ‘Constellations’. [color=5486ae]”This is astronomy.”[/color] He pulled out a few more books that sounded like novels, one of which happened to be written by Crystal, one of the renowned romance novelists in Caesonia. He stopped there for a second. Charlotte’s eyes lit up the moment she noticed the word [i]Constellations[/i] on the cover of one of the books he had been sorting. [color=D0B4EC]“Oh!”[/color] she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she brushed a stray hair from her cheek. [color=D0B4EC]“I’ve always loved studying the stars. There’s just something so endlessly fascinating about them… worlds and lights so far away, yet always above us. Sometimes I stay up late just wondering what might be out there— who might be looking back.”[/color] [color=5486ae]”It is a very calming topic to learn about. Mysterious and, well, doesn’t concern our lives too much.”[/color] John said, having already noted to borrow that book by Crystal later. Charlotte had returned her attention to the task at hand, and had begun to organize another few stacks of books regarding historical and religious topics. Her hand paused on a worn spine titled [i]The Astral Arcana[/i], and her expression softened. [color=D0B4EC]“Have you ever heard of the Path of the Astral Arcana? It’s a belief from Kimoon.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“They say each person is born beneath one of twelve celestial deities, and that our souls are spun from stardust by divine hands. When we die, we return to the heavens to watch over those we love.”[/color] A nostalgic smile touched her lips, and she closed her eyes as she spoke. [color=D0B4EC]“It may not be the most logical belief,”[/color] she admitted with a faint laugh, [color=D0B4EC]“but I used to write letters with my grandmother about it.”[/color] John’s serious demeanor softened considerably. [color=5486ae]”There is also a scientific hypothesis that we evolved from star stuff, over eons past that the word ‘forever’ hardly describes it.”[/color] A thoughtful look accompanied his supportive smile. [color=5486ae]”I will hold judgment on its validity. But these guys may be onto something.”[/color] She leaned a little closer then, her voice lowering into a playful whisper. [color=D0B4EC]“I could look up yours, you know,”[/color] she teased lightly, [color=D0B4EC]“What month were you born?”[/color] [color=5486ae]”Germa.”[/color] John chuckled. He was no religious type, but fun is fun. [color=5486ae]”Which burning sphere in the sky am I descended from?”[/color] He asked in jest. Charlotte blinked, visibly delighted. [color=D0B4EC]“Germa?”[/color] she repeated, tilting her head as if she needed to acquire the memory from a shelf in her brain. A small hum escaped her lips before she brightened. [color=D0B4EC]“Oh! That would be Indra the Thunderous Storm Sovereign.”[/color] She brushed her fingertips along the edge of the book as though tracing a constellation itself. [color=D0B4EC]“His constellation is shaped like a thunderbolt. They say those born under Indra are passionate and brave, though perhaps a little quick-tempered.”[/color] Her lips curved into a shy, teasing smile. [color=D0B4EC]“ Would you say that suits you?”[/color] [color=5486ae]”Hmm.”[/color] John listened with flattened, amused lips. [color=5486ae]”Passionate, sure. Brave, not necessarily. Quick-tempered…well…you be the judge of that.”[/color] He said, in a manner that was self-aware and self-deprecating. [color=D0B4EC] “I certainly will be on the lookout for that temper.”[/color] She replied with a giggle. [color=D0B4EC] “...I was born in Ventu… that’s under Lóngwei, the Azure Dragon Guardian.”[/color] She hesitated, then added, [color=D0B4EC]“Lóngwei is said to embody courage and protection, defending the vulnerable and upholding honor.”[/color] Charlotte’s smile wavered. [color=D0B4EC]“I’m not entirely sure it suits me,”[/color] she admitted quietly. [color=D0B4EC]“I haven’t felt very courageous as of late… and I certainly haven’t done the best job of protecting those I care about.”[/color] Her voice trembled just a little, but she quickly drew in a breath and straightened, forcing a small smile. [color=D0B4EC]“But I will get better.”[/color] [color=5486ae]”I beg to disagree on one point actually, my lady.”[/color] John replied almost instantaneously. [color=5486ae]“One is courageous when they need to. That’s what my mentor told me. And so far from what I’ve seen, you’ve shown it at the right time.”[/color] [color=5486ae]“As for defending the vulnerable.”[/color] John’s upbeat demeanor shifted suddenly. Though he tried to keep it casual, there was a hint of melancholy, as well as something personal, in there. [color=5486ae]“Sometimes, life deals you terrible cards, and solace in trying your best is…well…the best we can do.”[/color] Charlotte’s expression softened, then dimmed entirely. Her gaze drifted toward the endless rows of books, though it was actually elsewhere beyond sight. The hush of the library seemed to press closer as the silence enveloped them momentarily. [color=D0B4EC]“I don’t think I have done quite enough as of late to defend those I care about,”[/color] she murmured. [color=D0B4EC]“My friends have run into terrible trouble, and I’ve been rather powerless to stop it.”[/color] Her hands came to rest upon the cart, fingertips brushing the wood as though it might lend her steadiness. [color=D0B4EC]“I think I’ve done something to help—but…”[/color] she hesitated, her voice catching, [color=D0B4EC]“…I don’t know if it will be enough, considering the scale of the opposition we’ve created. “[/color] Her brows lifted, her lips curving into a frown. [color=D0B4EC]“...That perhaps, I’ve somehow created.”[/color] John’s eyebrows elevated. His expression shifted from sympathy to a myriad of different worries and fears the moment Charlotte mentioned it. More than what Charlotte might expect. Charlotte’s shoulders lowered, [color=D0B4EC]“If I’m honest…”[/color] she added, [color=D0B4EC]“…I scarcely even know what’s truly going on anymore to even explain it to you. Every time I think I’ve understood, the ground shifts beneath me again.”[/color] For a long moment, the lamplight glimmered in her downcast eyes, reflecting the weight of it all. Then her lips parted once more. [color=D0B4EC]“I should have done more, and I need to find a way to do more still.”[/color] She was thoughtful for a moment after her lament before she gave him an apologetic smile. [color=D0B4EC]“Forgive me,”[/color] she said softly. [color=D0B4EC]“I’ve gone on rather a lot, haven’t I?”[/color] Her eyes found his again, warmer now despite the weariness behind them. [color=D0B4EC]“I don’t mean to turn gloomy conversation upon you, Doctor.”[/color] Then, she gathered a few books in her arms, finally, and moved to a nearby shelf to one by one return them to their rightful place. [color=5486ae]“Somehow created?”[/color] John muttered under his breath as he watched Charlotte from a distance. That one line had engraved in him much fear and dread. Fear of history repeating itself. [color=5486ae]“The thing you created.”[/color] And dread that it came from Charlotte. [color=5486ae]“Is it…supernatural?”[/color] John half-regretted saying what he said. There was no good way of phrasing it without indirectly implying witchcraft. [color=5486ae]“Forget what I said. Let’s finish our work and get back to finding little Steven.” [/color] John dismissed, as he also shifted through his pile of books and put it on the shelves neatly. Charlotte hesitated, her fingers lingering on the spine of a book before she finally spoke again, more quietly this time. [color=D0B4EC] “No, it was a force of [i]opposition[/i],”[/color] she said at last, clarifying. She finished up her task at hand and stepped toward him again. Her tone was thoughtful as she elaborated. [color=D0B4EC]“An enemy, really.”[/color] She drew in a breath, then admitted. [color=D0B4EC]“The Black Rose company.”[/color] For a moment, she seemed to weigh her next words carefully. [color=D0B4EC]“You mentioned how life can deal terrible cards, Doctor…”[/color] Her voice softened, yet it was tentative. [color=D0B4EC]“Forgive me if I overstep, but…”[/color] She paused before asking, [color=D0B4EC]“…have you dealt with the supernatural before? Is that, perhaps, what you meant?”[/color] Her curiosity slipped through despite her better judgment. And before her eyes, the man stood cross-legged with his arm resting on one of the book pile, looked back at her with his head inclined slightly. A mysterious, confounding expression formulated - a diluted combination of affirmation, sadness, and fear. It would be hard to understand it, as John reached into his chest pocket. [color=5486ae]”No, but I know someone who does.”[/color] He said rather suggestively. [color=5486ae]”See, she sees the world a little differently from others. The supernatural is evil, but worth learning more about, if only for the sake of wiping them off the face of the earth.”[/color] Charlotte stilled, her mind traveling back to how Duke Petit had spoken at the meeting. She thought of the hunter who had barged into the banquet with a witch on a chain. She had been told all about that afterward — every chilling detail. Her heart gave a small, painful flutter, but she dared not let her feelings show visibly. The doctor’s hand unfurled to a small white fountain pen, elegantly embroidered with golden cursives, radiating a strange aura that itched curiosities. Then just as quickly as he opened it, he closed his hand and put the pen back. Her gaze drifted down to the pen in his hand. Such a harmless little thing… and yet, the air around it was obviously different. It radiated something she could [i]sense[/i], something she should not have been able to feel at all. [color=5486ae]”That’s all.”[/color] He shrugged. [color=5486ae]”If curiosity itches you, come to the nurse corps.”[/color] John tapped the books on the cart. [color=5486ae]”Let’s finish this job already.”[/color] Then came a whisper in her ear. It was not quite a voice, not quite an echo but still she heard her name clear as day: [i]“Charlotte…”[/i] She froze. [i]“Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte…”[/i] And little did she know that the voice also called for John. [i]“…John…”[/i] John’s response was a simple tick of the tongue, looking more annoyed that the voice would even try to intimidate him this way. The sound drifted from a shadowed corner between the shelves, where lamplight faded into a thick pool of darkness. Then came an interruption that made Charlotte nearly jump out of her skin: [color=#FF96FE]“Apologies for the delay! I’m Maurice — afternoon shift reporting in! I was told you two had a question for me.”[/color] An elderly man shuffled into view, his arms full of books he had no business carrying at his age. Maurice looked as though the library itself had kept him in service far too long: a stooped back, a thinning sweep of white hair that refused to stay combed, and spectacles smudged so thoroughly one had to wonder how he saw anything at all. His simple waistcoat strained around his rounded middle, and his steps were careful. He blinked up at them owlishly, breathing lightly through parted lips.[color=#FF96FE]“Oh—oh dear, did I frighten you?”[/color] he asked, winded, [color=#FF96FE]“We don’t get many jumpy visitors, unless someone’s dropped a stack of dictionaries.”[/color] Charlotte forced a smile despite her pounding heart. [color=D0B4EC]“No, you’re perfectly alright,”[/color] she assured him softly. [color=D0B4EC]“We’ve been waiting for you.”[/color] John stepped ahead of Charlotte, letting her take a breather. [color=5486ae]”Good day, Mr. Maurice, we are looking for this fellow named Steven. He’s 10 years old, blonde hair, and is thought to be here yesterday afternoon at around 3-ish.”[/color] John’s eyes occasionally dashed between the origin of the voice, Charlotte and Maurice. [color=5486ae]”He hasn’t been home since yesterday. We hope you’d know something about it.”[/color] Maurice’s brows lifted behind his spectacles. [color=#FF96FE]“Steven… yes, yes, I remember that one. Came in just yesterday afternoon. There were three boys, all of them dripping water everywhere, the rascals. Sand on my floor, mud on my tiles, oh, it was a whole affair.”[/color] He waved a hand vaguely at the returns desk. [color=#FF96FE]“The lad brought back a book—[i]just on time, mind you[/i]—and said the beach water was ‘so cold it could kill a whale.’ His words, not mine.”[/color] A chuckle wheezed out of him. [color=#FF96FE]“But he was absolutely [b]determined[/b] to swim that day. Told his companions that if the sea was too cold, then the fountain in the Park would do just fine instead. A stubborn little trio, that.”[/color] John raised his eyebrows at that. Really determined huh? He paused to catch his breath, blinking between John and Charlotte.[color=#FF96FE]“They ran off in a great hurry through the doors. Still dripping, too. I remember thinking whoever cleaned the fountain would have their hands full.”[/color]He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice, [color=#FF96FE]“Children do get such ideas in their heads. If they fail in one place, they simply try the next.”[/color] Charlotte dipped her head in gratitude. [color=D0B4EC]“Thank you, Mr. Maurice. You’ve been tremendously helpful.”[/color] The old man beamed as though he had just solved the case himself. Charlotte glanced lightly toward John, offering a nod that was essentially an unspoken [i]shall we?[/i] before turning back toward the doors. The doctor politely bowed to the librarian before heading off to Charlotte, his hand gesture said [i]after you[/i]. [/color]