Lithus - Chapter 1: Out of the Sky
To know is to believe.
Running his fingers against the fine leather binding of "Bulwark- History and Myths" the Silvant known as Lithus let out a long sigh.
It was genuine depression he felt when he walked into the archives every morning. He had come to bear a solid belief that each day would most likely be similar to the last, that this emptiness he felt was best described by his physical surrounding.
The library was old and neglected. From night to day there was nothing but hollow silence and the systematic cycling of guards and other librarians, who's very presence was like that of a minute hand slowly dancing around the clock. Usually under such a wealth of knowledge, time would be lost, but sadly that wasn't the case.
Sliding the book in between two other historical texts, the silvant let out a faint chuckle.
Not once in his four months of working at this institution had more than one visitor been in the library at a time.
If to know was to believe, it was safe to assume that no one wanted to believe anymore, because the desire to learn and understand was not just absent, it likely didn't even exist. The very presence of the soldiers that danced across the old tiled floor was a waste in his opinion. The reason? Simple. The stealing would simply end. It had been five years since the start of the "Drought" and it was safe to say the race to figure out the cause was not just a simple sprint but rather a marathon, one of which had no end. Without the finish line to give incentive to the runners, hope would eventually be replaced by desperation before finally acceptance.
It was a safer bet to have the soldiers line and patrol the markets and stores at this point. With the acceptance of the Silence of Life would come a liberation from the social contract that kept everything intact. People would stop caring once what they perceived to be "The End" was near because to be honest, nothing else mattered.
Lithus closed his eyes before silencing his incoherent thoughts. It was easy to lose himself, to lose sense and logic when one thought entered before another left. He barely had time to process his own thoughts nevertheless to record them.
Out from underneath his robes he produced a small brown book, a journal if you will. It was something he had picked up from one of the vendors upon entering atmosphere of Bulwark and in it he wrote descriptions of the Sphere and her inhabitants as well as whatever thoughts should cross his mind while he was here. He silently opened to the first page.
In a handwriting that was more art than calligraphy were the four letters L, O, V and E.
It was an theory, but one that he felt sure of when he had first thought about it. What if the Silence of Life was caused by an absence of that was quintessential to life? That perhaps throughout the ages the passionate fires of love that ushered life into the world had been growing weaker and weaker before finally going out for good? The point that he was getting at was that perhaps there was something more to the creation of life than just sex.
It didn't necessarily have to be love.
Unlikely? Probably.
Interesting? Definitely so.
It was absurd and excessively romantic. Something an angsty teenager would subscribe to the plot of a sappy romance novel, but it was a theory that could not be overlooked.
In the end it was an idea he kept around for laughs. He had long moved past the idea.
Tucking the book away, he let out another sigh before returning to his work. He had to book in another twenty minutes before he was done for the day anyways. There was no harm in giving attention to his work, it was the least bit of respect he owed to an institution built for higher understanding.
When Lithus emerged from the dusty tombs of the archives the sun had already start to lose it's demanding glow.
It was a sight that he had come to appreciate the last few months, more so because he had a greater appreciation for it now. Compared to the seemingly lifeless library and the endless hours spent he spent within its four walls, it was nice to know that time was still moving on, that life still kept it's bravado and trekked forward.
He had decided to retire early today as oppose to wandering the streets. The reason? None in particular, there was just something more appealing about his bed this evening.
Letting out a stifled yawn, he quickly stretched before starting home.
Despite its sheer immensity, Bulwark's city appeared quite tame in the population department, expressing clean streets and a wealth of room to walk from home to work without becoming one with the crowd for a time.
Not that Lithus really minded the crowd every once in a while. It was company that he never had to ask for and one that he could always leave with no strings attached. Gliding through the same routine path that he had established as the shortest route between point A and point B, the silvant kept his eyes low, lost in the distinct patterns of the road.
Where normally the silvant sensed little difference upon the streets day to day, he was suddenly met with a rousing sound a mere block away that had never been there before. All throughout his walks home, the simple sounds of a city bustle were all that reached his ears. But now...
There must have been a gathering of some sort, as in the darkening hours of the day, when voices quieted, he could distinctly hear a commotion of chatter underneath the occasional shout of a particular feminine voice. Coming upon a street intersection and looking to his left, he found the source.
A crowd of people came and went, but a majority of them stayed, circled around a wooden platform dominated by several military figures. A short woman of snow-white hair and clad in armor, and four faceless Bulwark soldiers all stood atop the platform, apparently preaching some word to the citizens.
"Absolutely anyone willing to aid us in the expedition will be paid a hefty sum. It is dangerous, and for this you will be repaid properly. Think carefully however," the white-haired woman spoke, looking over the crowd. Taking out a bag of what appeared to be coin, she showed just how much participants would be paid. The mere sight of it sent a wave of eagerness through the crowd. "Ten gold coins to anyone who will help," she explained. Practically the entire crowd rose their hands to offer their servitude.
Ten gold coins...
The thought pushed its way rapidly through his weary head, bumping out the thoughts that had entertained him during the endless hours in that old dusty tomb. The library job wasn't a bad one to be honest. If he had all the time in the world he would have easily shrugged aside the opportunity before him for the obviously more stable route,
...but he was in a rush much like his soon to be employers.
An common interest is the key to any successful relationship after all.
Finding himself some sort of elevation over the crowd, the individual raised a finger into the air.
He wasn't a person to take risks, but the opportunity to get his hands on some funds that he couldn't spend in one sitting was just too good to past up.
Amidst a crowd of common folk looking for a substantial amount of cash, the armored woman seemed to take an immediate notice of Lithus's raised hand. Him, in his rather peculiar set of robes, and the unique glow to his eyes displayed a worthiness far brighter than his surroundings.
"You," the woman pointed straight to Lithus, beckoning him to step forward. The knightess stepped down from the platform, approaching Lithus at the head of the crowd.
"What do you do for a living?" she abruptly and directly questioned.
"I'm a curator of books and as of right now I'm rotting away at the Archives of the Late King Venarl, no offense to his 'excellence' of course..." he spoke with a gracious tone, humble but yet somehow condescending. Her direct attitude interested him, it tasted strongly of military discipline and gave off a sense of superiority.
Rugged, strong, independent...
Very common but nevertheless interesting.
"I'm sure I'll be of some use. One way or another."
"You don't look like a simple curator," she proposed, looking up and down Lithus's body, his clothing in particular, "You sure you're not a mage?" she smiled, as if teasing him into admitting it lie or not; it would make more sense if he were, she thought. Turning back up to the soldiers still on the platform, she mumbled a few words, then returned to Lithus, gesturing for him to follow her stride away from the crowd. As they moved away, one of the soldiers began to pick out some of the individuals in the crowd, claiming there was room in the expedition for only a select few.
"I have a fair amount of knowledge in the art of magic, but sadly none of the practice."
As oppose to walking besides her, he chose to just shadow her steps, itching about a feet behind her.
He preferred doing the examining, not the other way around.
Her hair was a firm solid shade white as oppose to the ghostly pale he was so accustomed to seeing. It seemed almost artificial in his eyes, but he didn't doubt the authenticity.
There were few things fake about the figure before him.
"So...you're right!" he exclaimed with a false enthusiasm, breathing out those three words slowly but firmly, "I'm not a simple curator, I'm a very good one."
"The best of my trade even."
The knightess chuckled, "Oh? Is that so?" she joked, "But really, that is good. We were hoping for someone like you to come along for the expedition. We need more than some shop-keepers and farmers where we're going. You might even produce some new information for the library," she proposed.
"Expedition?"
As much as he loved mystery and discovering things first hand, the truth of the matter was that he needed to know what to expect. Dangerous is a very broad term not in the concept that one's life is at risk, but more so the concept of how one's life would be at risk.
"Where?"
The woman looked a tad surprised. "Did you not hear during the announcement?" she asked, and seeing Lithus still without a clue, figured he had simply arrived after she declared the destination.
"We're heading to Maelstrom."