Imago Ch17: The Nymph's Reliquary (Patreon)

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I miss you, Ian.I miss your face. I miss the way you get so focused when you’re working with Trystan. I miss your easy way with people and I even miss that stubborn protective streak of yours. I wish I could tell you that Neith II is here with us. She hasn’t run off. Well, she has, but you’d know what I mean. We’re all okay, more or less.Two weeks over here, two days for you.Lucky jerk.L stops, looking down at the oddly soft page. She's writing with a sharpened stick of charcoal, seated at the counter in Astraea's kitchen. L pauses, tapping the charcoal against her lip. Choosing her next words.This place is... a LOT. I don’t even know how to describe it. There’s no sun. They’ve never seen a human. You should have seen the look on Fili’s face when she saw me, and I’ve still got the wings. If she saw you she’d probably pass out!  Even so, it’s… frightening, here. And no, I’m not scared of the dark. It’s easy to see why Astraea wanted to leave. I don’t want to think about it too much.  Speaking of Astraea, they keep calling her for rituals or questions or something. They call it ‘cleansing’ and won’t tell me what that means, so you can imagine how happy I am. Doesn’t seem to matter. Nymphs don’t get to know that kind of thing. I can tell it's wearing on her, but she’s putting on a brave face for me, I think. You could probably get it out of her if you were here. No, scratch that, I know you could. I wish you were here.Anyway, we’ve made some attempts to work out why Lyra left, but every time I snoop around it seems to make things worse. I don't know if someone's hiding something or that's just the way things ARE? Either way, we're going to figure this out. We’re going to figure it out and get back to the Glade and I’m going to tell you all about it face to face.I miss you so much. Even with all the wonders and magic, there's an empty space in my world. I can’t wait until I'm back with you.- LShe gazes down at the parchment, one finger tracing over the fibrous surface. With a creak of footsteps and an off-key but enthusiastic burst of humming, Astraea comes around the corner, pulling on her clothes - black garments, sparkling with starlight. She circles the kitchen, retrieves a hard-baked honeycomb biscuit from a jar, and takes a bite. It's nymph food, she'd get more from soaking in the springs…but then again, it's Astraea."What'sh thish?"  She asks, gesturing to the parchment and swallowing.  "Writing a story?" "It's a letter."“A letter? To who, Fili?”  Astraea sets down her biscuit and leans forward to get a better look. As soon as she’s distracted, Neith II lunges out from behind a copper pot and snaps the pastry up. L gives a self-conscious chuckle, folding the paper up before she can see.   "Ian, actually.”  She flicks her wrist, and her letter sails neatly into the hearth. Eager flames eat their way through the sheet of paper, its crinkled edges curling and blackening. L watches as the words spiral into ash.  "I don't know what else to do." "I'm worried about them too.”  Astraea moves to her side, running a hand along her back.  "Fili will get us back to the Market.""I know."  L laces her fingers together, her wings stirring restlessly. "But even so. Evander’s people keep taking you. I’m watched every step outside of your flat.  It’s like they suspect us.""The cleansing rituals do seem a little…protracted at this point."  Astraea smiles guiltily.  "I'm sorry I haven't been able to show you the Grove properly. It's all been work and obligations since our return." "It's okay. We didn't come here to sightsee." L looks over her shoulder, back toward the living room. She can just glimpse the city twinkling in through the great windows. "It's beautiful, but the rest of it… how we're treated, how nymphs are treated… it’s just…"L stops, looking away.Astraea hops up on the counter, letting her legs swing, "The Termina Festival will be fun, at least.  You're singing in the chorus before the Gleaning, right?”  “That’s what they tell me.” L gives a halfhearted smile. Astraea looks sidelong at her. “Excited? Nervous?" "Both?" L gnaws at her lip. "No one's really told me what goes on. It's a...what, a formal ball? ""Dancing, yes!” Astraea claps her hands. “Though not the way I think you're used to.   Performances, plays, exhibitions, and magic - oh, and all kinds of foods, heaped up as high as you can see. It's a week of celebrating the year’s achievements as we work towards the Annual Passage. There will be some court politics with the Gleaning itself, but after that, we should be free to enjoy the night."L nods slowly, sitting up a little straighter.  "Would that be a good time to...investigate?" She waves her hands again, gesturing vaguely. Neith II ducks. "Get places they don't want us looking?""Ooooh!"  Her eyes twinkle, and her hair curls into little vines around her shoulders.  "That's a brilliant idea. Everyone will be at the town centre, so we'd have some leeway. Did you have someplace in mind?""I was hoping you might."Astraea tilts her head up, her finger under her chin. "I don't really know. Without a lead, I don't know where we'd start.”  She looks curiously at L. “Have you had any luck with the other nymphs?"L shakes her head.  "Cordelia is nice, and I thought Thisbe and Desdemona were warming up to me, but then… Helios.”Both girls breathe out a sigh. After a moment, L reaches over and touches Astraea’s hand.  “Don’t worry. All we need... is somewhere to begin.”

"I'll see you tonight." Astraea calls out. They’re at the entrance to her spire, and the doorman’s returning with a pair of pike-wielding spriggans. Astraea shifts guiltily.  "I should have gotten up earlier so I could escort you to the Rookery myself.""You're busy." L says, taking note of the frail way the dryad is holding herself. "Rest when you can."Astraea leans forward and kisses L on the cheek. "Thanks..."  She whispers, then steps back with a wave. The spriggans take up positions on either side of L, marching her down the now-familiar path. Her eyes drift to the ground as she trudges along. Maybe Astraea's right. Maybe it's worth shaking down the other nymphs. They haven't really spoken since her time in Helios' 'care', and Desdemona in particular seems to be avoiding her.  But Thisbe, the Rookery gossip, might still be useful. She'd been one of the two who'd delivered her to Helios, giving Lyra plenty of cause to be angry with her. L feels angry enough herself. She could use that to corner her, threaten her into telling…What, exactly?L chews over the thought, making her way up a flight of stairs. Statues of trumpet-bearing nymphs stand on pillars on either side.  Her foot catches on some rubble, and her hand juts out to catch herself on the vine-wrapped railing."You really are a clumsy thing." A familiar voice pipes up. L jolts, looking wildly around for the source. It doesn’t take long - one of the statues lacks a trumpet. And wings. And is waving wildly. "Up here!"  Puck calls, executing a quick pirouette. He sticks both arms straight out and dives, flipping in midair before landing before her with a bounce and a whoop. L eyes the pillar Puck just leapt from suspiciously.  "Where'd that statue go?" "Out on important nymph business. Like yourself, I assume?""Straight to the Rookery. " She says, half-expecting the spriggans to cut their conversation short. Oddly, they’ve both stopped. For her or Puck, she isn’t sure. "And you? Running errands for Fili?""Why would I do that?"  "Isn't..." L falters. "...isn't that what you do?""Sometimes. Every other equinox.” Puck shrugs, flipping his goat ears. “But today I feel like being a dryad!"“I’m…sorry? What?” L looks uncertainly back at the guards. They seem even more expressionless than before, as if they’re trying to avoid looking at anyone in particular. Puck hops onto the railing and claps his hands together sharply. "You two, on your way.  I'll escort the nymph from here."Without a word, the spriggans turn on their heels and march back the way they came. L stares in bewilderment. "What. What? You can do that?""It's a day of the cold star."  Puck giggles, pointing to the sky. "So… yes! Apparently!"  Grabbing her by the arm, he pulls her over the railing, dropping into an alleyway overgrown with mosses and ferns. As L struggles to break free of the undergrowth,  Puck scuttles to the wall, peering around suspiciously like they’re being followed. "What - alright, hold on. What is going on?" L plucks a leaf out of her hair, sending it spinning away as she finally rights herself."What do you want to be going on?"  Puck asks, picking a fern frond and twirling it overhead like a parasol. L makes a grab for it, but the satyr leaps just out of reach. "I want you to teach me how to make the guards leave me alone." She mutters, giving up. "I can't go anywhere.""Oh, that's easy." Puck smiles, tossing the leaf over his shoulder.  "Just drop the wings and talons and paint yourself gold!""Hrm." L grumbles.  "Tempting."Puck plops down under the half-crushed ferns, hooves poking jauntily into the walkway."But back to the mischief at hand. Where would you like to go? Back outside the gates? Sit on Evander's throne? Or... I know you had an interest in the salt cellars! I can get you there almost immediately! I know at least thirty-two different ways - ""Pass." L says, settling down on the steps, thinking.  “But if I am allowed to choose….”  There's only one choice, really. She smiles just thinking about it."The Archive. With the books."Puck pokes his head out from under the fern, looking curiously at her.  "Why?" "I'd just like to. Th-that's all. A hobby from Annwyn.""But Lyraaaaa…the Archive is full of books to be read, remember? They aren't for eating.""Reading. I'd like to read them. That’s the hobby.”Puck blinks at her.  "That is the single craziest thing I've ever heard."L folds her arms, turning away.  "II should get to the Rookery. This is - "The satyr scrambles up and places his hands on his hips in what he probably imagines is an authoritative pose. It might work, if he wasn’t barely up to L’s chin.  "And just who is the dryad here?  I need to see this…this wonder of Xylia! A nymph who reads!"He clasps both his hands around her arm, dragging her back over the railing and down the stairs."Puck! W-wait- "She can already feel the allure of the fae library working on her. And, in theory, she could find something useful.  But that's an excuse, and she knows it. There's no lead there more solid than shaking down Thisbe, and it feels more likely to get her into trouble. She pulls her hand back, digging in her heels and slipping on the stones.  "I don't think I'm allowed!""Fine." He lets go with a shrug, smirking gleefully over his shoulder as he trots away. "I’m going to the Archive, though. Why don’t you walk to the Rookery…on your own?"L hesitates, then stalks after him, fuming. She knows very well how that would end. "You need a hobby.""You are my hobby!" Puck calls back in a singsong voice, somersaulting down a flight of stairs. 

The great dome of the Archive rises ahead, its enormous telescope extending from the peak at a graceful angle.  L can’t help wondering just what they might use it for. How much can they see of the few stars in the sky?  Is that even what they are?She doesn't have time to wonder, though.  She needs to focus on her surroundings.It isn't just that Puck isn't the most attentive escort. He keeps cartwheeling away before popping out from behind a wall or empty archway - or, once, from the canal, showering her in glowing drops as he shook himself dry.  It's that they aren't alone now.There's none of the bustle of home - but here and there a dryad moves past. Almost all are taller than Astraea and prefer their tree-forms. Some glide along the stones, others stalk by in great knee-cracking strides. Most are attended by two or three nymphs, lead along on golden chains or fluttering around their crowns.And every single one turns to look at her.Each set of eyes makes her feel more out of place, her heart hammering away.  Is someone going to stop her?  Will she catch the attention of another Helios?  Or maybe someone will see beneath her glamour. The fears are even worse whenver Puck's scampered away - one dryad, his face half-concealed by scraggly leaves and tiny blossoms, even moved to block her path before the satyr skipped back off a low rooftop. Even then, she could feel him watching as they moved on."You're sure this won't be...reported?" L asks."Reported?"  Puck gasps.  "By WHO?"L twitches a wing mutely in the direction of the watching dryad."Oh, right." He shrugs. "Maybe."L grinds her teeth.  "And do you think that might - ""Look! We're here!"  He calls, scampering up a flight of marble steps to the Archive’s southern gate entrance. They are met by sharpened copper bars, guarded by a pair of the great clockwork soldiers. Before it is a tall podium with a small goblin, hastily scribbling away in a book almost as large as he is. He wears a set of thick-lensed glasses that magnify his eyes to outsized proportions. At the sound of footsteps, he coughs and turns a page, squeaking out a question without looking up. "Name?”  L nudges Puck. The satyr clears his throat and bows, trilling his r’s ostentatiously.  "Rrrrr-obin Goodfellow at yourrr serrrrvice, my excellent hobgoblin."The goblin almost drops his pen. He slams the book shut, scrambling onto the lectern to glare down at them.  "PUCK?!  Why are you darkening my doorstep?  AGAIN.""This nymph wants to view the Archive!" Puck crows, his eyes twinkling as he shoves L forward. "If that’s o-okay." She backpedals. The goblin’s eyes bulge. He glowers at her before snapping his attention back to Puck.  "No nymphs in the Archives."The goblin gestures, and one of the clockwork guards march haphazardly in front of the entryway, slamming into position with all the elegance of a piston."BUH-!” Puck stammers “THAT'S NOT A RULE!!  Look, look!"  He points. Sure enough, just beyond the bars a pair of nymphs attend their half-curious dryad. The goblin’s eyes narrow.  "They're here on official business.”  He glares daggers at L. “Not for sightseeing."“I’m not-”"She says she can read."  Puck stage-whispers, jabbing a thumb at her. The goblin squints,"... nymphs can't rea - “"Oooh, but she can!” Puck squeals. “She can, she really can! Isn't that right, Lyra?” His lip suddenly wobbles, and he pulls an exaggeratedly upset face.  “You didn't lie to your old friend Robin Goodfellow, did you? You didn't have a lark at humble Puck's expense?"  "No." L answers sullenly. Something about having her literacy questioned gnaws at her - one of those fundamental unfairnesses that lunge up at her in this world. Even the real Lyra had been able to read. She'd left her a note, hadn't she? "I can read. Show me your book."The goblin gathers his book into his arms, holding it protectively. "You may neither steal nor eat it, nymph.  Do you understand?” "I'm not going to - " L starts."Don't worry, she won't! She won't steal or eat anything inside. Or start any fires in the stacks.   Or remove the lenses from the tellerscope or fall asleep in the branches of the grand librarian! I'll take personal responsibility if she does."“...we all know you would, Puck.”  The goblin spits, saying the name like a curse.  With a heavy sigh, he flips to a page in his book  and holds it over the edge for L to see.  "Read the second paragraph down and I will permit entry."L squints, and for a horrible moment all she can see is the strange, twisting script of the Wilds. But then comprehension settles in, just as it has before, like a voice on the edge of hearing."'To which, herein, each entrant to the Archive is permitted; he or she is expected to give in return.  For what wealth is more valuable than wisdom, what weapon more incisive than insight, what beauty more shining than knowledge. And so, herewith, those who seek such things may endeavour and, to their own return the gifts of almighty Xylia.'"The doorkeeper's face could have curdled milk, but all L feels is a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction. "After that it's just logs." She chirps brightly. "'Lord Dryopteris to request a private reading-room. Sustenance for two guests and the following tomes- '"The goblin rips away the book, scowling."Of course one of the humanist Kepts was taught to read. What is this Grove coming to?""So she can go inside?"  Puck asks, hopping back and forth."TRUE NAME."  The goblin snaps, biting off the words.L smiles, knowing she's the only one here who will understand why."Lyra.""And your Keeper?" The doorkeeper mutters, scribbling away. "Lady Astraea."  She can feel her smile grow warmer.  He looks up, scowling, and closes the book with a little more force than necessary.  "I will look forward to overseeing your punishment personally, for whatever mischief you two are engaging in."  He gestures, and the clockwork guard turns and marches five paces to the right, before returning to attention.Puck walks up to the threshold, tentatively putting a toe inside. "Looks like it's safe.""Are you sure?""Would you like to test it?"Carefully, L puts a foot over the invisible line, then hops inside. Puck mimics the jump and, taking her by the hand, dashes ahead.

"...wow." L whispers, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. "It's...busy."It's the most crowded place she's seen, save for the Rookery and the great tree Herself. And the most diverse - for half a moment, she almost feels like she's back in the Market. The librarians are all goblins, but attending the shelves are brownies and puca and merrow, some reading, others tending to tasks among the shelves. A large black dog nudges a book back into place with its nose, and she sees a cluster of cats perched on a table, pinning down a tome with their paws so the largest can turn pages. And, of course, there are dryads. All attended by their own nymphs. The main floor is crowded with the shelves and low tables, work stations and ongoing projects.  A great spiral staircase acts as a centrepiece of the room, disappearing into the rafters and vaulted balconies.  Beyond the stairs is something like a great glass-domed observation deck, and on either side the library continues into its winding wings. "Well?"  L asks. "Where should I - ""Come on! This smells interesting!” Puck drags L into the halls of the right wing and shoulders open the first door he finds. Inside are a dozen brownies carving up a dragon’s head, under the direction of a willowy troll atop a stepladder. Bones, flesh, scales - everything sorted into a particular bowl or bottle. It's a little gruesome, but interesting, and L moves closer to watch just as one of the brownies looks up to catch Puck slipping a fang into his pocket. The resulting flight turns out to be typical of Puck’s idea of what to do in the Archives. They hurry down a flight of steps, taking refuge in a room containing a shallow aetherpool fed from sluices in the walls. Xylia's thrum is as strong as she's ever heard it. L breathes in the warm wet smell of spring, half-dazed by it…until a scandalised cough from the far side of the room draws their attention to  a severe-looking merrow staring down at them. L's only halfway to forming an apology before Puck's hauled her back up the stairs and barrelled through another door. This one leads to a cavernous chamber with a dozen goblins clambering over a kneeling, inactive sentry, carefully tipping flasks of aether into openings. The less-than-delicate entrance startles several of the artisans from their perches.There’s only so much chaos L can handle. While Puck is cheerfully squabbling with a five-armed goblin, she leaves in search of somewhere quieter.Returning to the main hall, she circles around the grand staircase and up to the observation deck.  The landing is enclosed in a glass dome, facing away from the lights of Xylia and into the darkness of the Wilds.Her eyes adjust quickly, almost eagerly. Vague silhouettes resolve into towering shapes, trees clutching for the sky. The forest from her dreams. From the photograph in Spencer’s mansion. L isn't aware that she's reaching up to touch the glass until she feels the cold surface on her fingertips. Her breath casts fog in thei wake.She can feel that dark wood.  Feel her trees in her bones. A Call extending to her, beckoning her soul. Something likesmall feet scuffling through the undergrowthwind rattling in the branchesa still pool with leaves floating on its surfaceeyes in the darkSomething stirs, deep beneath her skin. L draws in a ragged breath, her eyes fixed on Lyra's reflection."Boo!"L nearly leaps into the glass.  "PUCK - "The satyr snickers, wiping grease and aether from his face. Sidling closer to the window, he peers into the Wilds. "Sometimes I think about returning, you know." Puck presses his hands against the glass, pupils expanding. "Back to the chaos of creation.""...what keeps you?" L asks, recovering herself.Puck grins at his reflection. "I suppose it's the difference between running screaming into a rainstorm… and starting a fire. The one you get to be small in the chaos.  The other, you’re the King Dryad.”  His focus shifts to L.  “I’d ask why you left the Wilds, but of course you don’t remember. Those pesky memories…” L shakes her head, still looking out into the woods.  The void whispers, like a living thing speaking to her hidden parts. It leaves her feeling simultaneously wrung out and tense."I… don't think I should stay here." L turns away with a shudder."Feeling the Call?""How would I know?" L grits her teeth, slowly turning her back on the windows. "If only I could remember..."Puck slips effortlessly into her path, “... I could give your memories back.""Give me my - "  L blinks, then her eyes narrow in suspicion.  "...how?"Puck steps closer and shoves L back, the darkness in his eyes roiling, his grin glowing wickedly.  "What would you give me? What can you offer?"Dead leaves rustle through her veins with every beat of her heart, blood pumping in her ears. The shadows behind her eyes stirs, urging her on.  She grabs Puck by the horns, her knuckles turning white.  "I am almost certain..." She starts, her lips peeling into a numb smile. "...I’ll do something you find amusing. Good enough, Goodfellow?" Pucks pupils snap back to normal. He giggles nervously, slipping free of her grasp and bouncing in barely contained excitement.  "Yes yes YES! Right this way, little nymph!  Up the grand stairwell we go!” He stops and grins wickedly back at her.  “...my little woodland nightmare.” 

The atmosphere upstairs is different. Electric, like before a storm. Sounds are muffled, and what little light there is hovers pale and blue without a source. L trails after Puck, feeling light-headed as the rush of whatever moved inside her on the observation deck faded.No. She knows exactly who that was."Where are we going?" She whispers, gazing around. Puck wanders ahead, peering at the open visor of an empty suit of armour and running in a quick circle around a stack of books.“To the blind girl, of course.  We’re looking for the blind girl." He cups his hands around his mouth, shouting down the hallway. "Hellooooo?"“Shh!”  L flaps her wings frantically at him. "What blind girl?""The..."   Puck makes a face, vaguely waving his arms. “You know, little Bʲen. HELLOOOOOOOOO?"   A shriek so loud it nearly stops her heart erupts from behind them. Even clapping her hands over her ears does little to deafen the scream. It crawls down her antennae and rattles through her bones, turning her legs to jelly. As it fades, she drags herself upright by a bookcase, turning in the direction it came from almost against her will.  A hooded figure waits behind her, just over a metre tall and swathed in a hooded cloak with sleeves so long they swallow up her hands. Beneath are garments of night sky, distant stars twinkling beyond the silhouette of her body. And when she lifts her head, the hood shifts, and all L is met by are a pair of empty eye sockets. "...quiet... in the libr... ary..."  The banshee whispers, no louder than a rustle. L nods mutely, her skin breaking into goosebumps. Puck wobbles up beside her, giving a punch-drunk smile. "Hello, Bʲen! We're looking for a book! A reliquary."Bʲen holds her silence, considering Puck before answering.  "... y....ou may.... view your... own... o....r that.... of yo...ur Kept." She smiles, her teeth gleaming. "...which... neither... of you have. It... has been some... time... Lyra."L pulls herself back together, but not quite willing to trust her legs with her full weight. Her eyes flick over to Puck. "What's a reliquary?""You'll see." Puck grins. Bʲen extends a thin, almost translucent arm. Her fingernails are long and very sharp. "... your... hand..."Hesitantly, L holds out her hand, palm-up. The banshee whisks a fingernail across her skin, so quickly that she barely feels the sting. A bead of blood wells from the scratch, and Bʲen lets a slow, lingering breath flow out over it. It burns, but only lightly, and a few red droplets swirl and coagulate in the air. She taps them, and they ignite, burning with the same pale blue fire as the ghostly lights all around them. "... she will.... lead you..."L nods her head respectfully, murmuring a quiet thanks to the blind librarian.The light darts off, and she moves cautiously after it, Puck’s hurried trot and Bʲen’s whispering footsteps in her wake. L has to suppress a half-hysterical giggle. She’s been told by a banshee to follow a will-o’-the-wisp - not something she’d imagine would end well. And yet all she can feel is a growing sense of excitement as it leads her down shelves, around a corner, up and down stairs until she’s not even sure what floor she’s on anymore.  Something about this - something in here - just feels right. The will-o’-the-wisp comes to a stop in front of a neatly-arranged shelf of books, pulses once, then vanishes into the binding of a dappled grey volume. The book glows lightly, as if the light has taken up residence. Puck snatches it off the shelf, only to nearly lose his grip at a warning hiss from Bʲen."It is ...her.... reliquary, Robin.  You are... not permitted... to view it without her... permission." L takes the tome from Puck.  It's heavier than it looks, with a surprisingly soft cover. "My reliquary?  What does that mean? What is this?""It's your story!”  Puck grins.  “As promised."   "...this...is about me?" A cold shock of realisation runs through her. “My memories?""All collected for your convenience!"L's breath catches, and tentatively opens the cover.They knewThey all knew I'd lost my memory, and no one said -  The pages are covered in close-set words written in a spidery hand. '...as the rain pours around her, Lyra huddles in the branches, soaked to the skin even beneath the canopy. She can't remember a worse storm, no matter how hard she tries. The bark sticks to her back as she shifts, trying to get comfortable, waiting for it to pass, when-'As she reads, the words seem to wriggle, twisting into shapes. An impression of a great, swollen tree, a silhouetted figure crouched in a knot of branches, punctuation pelting down to drive her deeper into cover.  The air stirs. L can taste the rain, drinking in the petrichor scent. The dust in the library drifts into shapes, cohering into a firmer and firmer outline, wavering and drifting around them like clouds.Didn't she know?"My Keeper can view this?" She asks the librarian. "Has she?""She has... viewed this... many many times. O... bsessively... after your disappearance.""Has she..." L's voice wavers. She's teetering on the edge of something. Whatever answer she finds here, she knows it isn't going to be the one she walked in for.  Drawing in a slow breath, hands shaking, she turns the pages. Images drift and blow apart and come back together, fragments of memories breaching the darkness.Lyra flying, swooping down like an owl on a mouse.Lyra fleeing, darting up and away from grasping claws.Lyra sleeping on a bed of moss and ferns.Lyra watching from a distance, her eyes fixed on a city through the trees.A burst of light among the phantoms. Astraea rises from the dust to join her. Talking, laughing, whispering, kissing -L turns the pages faster and faster. Faces and shapes run together in fragments. Something is wrong, she can feel it. Something is very very wrong. The paper crackles beneath her fingers. It feels crisp.She turns a page.  All at once the phantoms evaporate, the paper eaten away. Great holes have been cored through it, obliterating the words, leaving brown and flaking wounds around the edges. What’s left is crawling with mould."It's...damaged." She manages, her voice shaking."... have... you been... damaged?""Yes."  L's eyes prickle.  "I have.""... then perhaps... this is not so surprising."L stares at the dead pages.  "The Lady Astraea.  Did she ever ask about it?"“She… had.  As I told her… a reliquary cannot rot… not even after a person's death…If… however… one’s memories were destroyed with aethercraft…the reliquary would decay from that… dead root…” Bʲen smiles.  “My, what strange circumstances you find yourself in… “"How could someone do that?" She whispers. The librarian shrugs.  “… you would have to ask… the one who did it…But I can tell you… it is an old magic…A magic of Disorder… of the Wilds…from the beginning.”"From the beginning." L nods. "Lady Astraea wouldn't know of it?"“…Lady Astraea is a… seedling… So… unlikely…”L lets out a breath. Her chest loosens.  Astraea had already checked it.  She probably just didn't want to go over the same ground twice.  But even so…"May I borrow this?" She asks.Bʲen stares at her "No... reliquaries... All reliquaries...stay within my care…Your Keeper may request books to borrow.. from the other... stacks...But... not this one..."L thinks on this for a long time, before answering.  "Thanks.  You've been very helpful."She lifts the book to replace it, Bʲen at her side to help her slide it carefully in among the rest. L’s skin prickles at the banshee’s proximity, like a cool breeze wafting past her."May I ask a favour?" L pulls her wings around herself. “Would you mind not…mentioning this to anyone?”Bʲen smiles and waves a hand. "I am an... attendant... of memories and secrets. My role is to keep. Not to... freely disperse, Lyra…" The banshee drifts closer, as if studying her with empty sockets. One pointed fingernail, tinged with drying blood, almost brushes against her choker, before she withdraws it again. … or whatever you are… now.”L twitches back, suddenly nervous. The banshee’s expression would have been unreadable even if she had her eyes. "Puck, could you - "She stops, craning her neck. Apart from herself and Bʲen, this corner of the library is completely empty.  "Do you know where he went?" She asks, carefully.A small smile crosses the banshee’s lips.  “...you… cannot see Robin…?”“No.”  L frowns.  “Can you?”  Her smile crinkles into a little grin.  “His flame… flickers… tucked under the bottom shelf back the way… we came…”L has to circle around the closest shelving before she can catch sight of the little satyr. He’s squirmed underneath one of the stacks, stifling his giggles, waiting for someone to get close enough to grab their ankles. She ducks back, a flicker of mischief in her own eyes. "Would you mind doing me…another favour?  Could you walk that way for me?""Ah."  Bʲen says. She turns and floats down the hallway. There’s a flurry of motion, and Puck leaps out, grabbing her ankles. "GOTCHU!!"  He cries. Bʲen wavers stoically in place. "You did. Great work."Puck frowns, then sits back in a huff.  "Bʲen! You're no fun! You're cheating! Cheating - eh?"A soft swish of air cuts him off, and he looks up at a descending mass of gleaming claws and yellow eyes and pale, pale wings -  "Boo!""AGH!!!"  Puck tumbles backwards as L lands, laughing. "LYRA!!! That’s not FUNNY! Troublemaker!! BAD nymph!"L crosses her arms, grinning smugly.  "Your fault."  She ruffles her wings.  "You've got a whole library to read and all you want to do is play chase.""And YOU'VE got a whole library to play kelpie-catcher in and all you want to do is read! Read, I ask you! Who wants to see that?! No one’s impressed!" "Maybe you should try it. Do you have a reliquary?"Puck sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry. "What kind of silly question is that?  Of course I do! We ALL do.""Are you sure?" Her antennae do a complex little dance. "Have you checked?"He sits straight up and looks at her suspiciously.  "Why?  Do you KNOW something? Did you STEAL IT???""How could I steal it?" L shrugs. "I don't even know where it is.""Well, let me help you find it then!" Puck leaps up and starts dancing in place, waving his hand in the librarian’s face. "Bʲen Bʲen Bʲen!!! Show me where my reliquary is so that Lyra can steal it!"Bʲen's hand darts out, stabbing at his palm with a little more force than necessary. A pale fire kindles above the satyr, bobbing off and away."No one... is stealing your reliquary, Robin Goodfellow...but you may view…”Puck is already dancing after and chasing the light, trying to cup it in his hands, then recoiling with an exaggerated yelp. The banshee sighs as he does it again, floating after him at a slightly faster pace. "Don't... fall behind….Lyra.""I won't."L looks back over her shoulder at the shelves. Her smile hardening.  

"You didn't have to climb the shelf, Puck.”L clasps her hands behind her, walking carefully down the steps leading away from the building to the sound of the doorkeeper furiously scratching their names out of his book. She can feel the eyes on the back of her neck, although thankfully most of their attention was directed...Elsewhere."Bʲen said there was a ladder. You could have brought the book down.""Yes, but I didn't want YOU to see."  Puck smirks, wiggling his ears cheekily. "Only I get to see my reliquary!""Well, not anymore."  L tweaks her ear, wincing, remembering how the banshee's voice had vibrated through her antennae.  "I don't think anyone gets to read it now."Puck nods aggressively. "My memories are MY memories." He skips ahead, walking backwards so he can face L, somehow managing not to tumble down the stairs. "So I assume you want to go back to your Rookery like a good little flutterbug?"   "Actually..." L shifts a little uncomfortably and takes to the air, hovering a half metre off the ground. "...I wouldn't mind going home."Puck stops so suddenly L almost flies into him. "Playing truant, are we?"L's eyes slide to the side. "What? No, it's just been - busy, that's all.""You're not afraid you'll get into trouble?""You're the one taking me places. You'll be in trouble."He picks something out of his teeth and flicks it at her. "If you think like that, you really HAVE forgotten everything. Fine, fine. Come along, little moth, I'll see you safely."L flutters a little closer.  "Thanks, Puck.  You’ve really helped me today.""Haven't heard that very often.” He eyes her speculatively. “It's very suspicious.""Is it?”  L plays innocent.  “Why?"He laughs, slowing his pace so that they’re almost side-by-side. "I'm glad you came back.”L  glances to the satyr. There’s something almost wistful in his eyes. "Now who's being suspicious?"Puck picks a blue, star-shaped flower, spinning it through his fingers. "That's the thing, isn't it? If you’re suspicious all the time, no one can call you on it. And if there’s never any expectations, why bother with punishment?”  He offers the flower to her. “Except nymphs, of course. Nymphs get punished for all kinds of things, and no one expects much from any of you."L takes the flower and tucks it behind her antennae.  "True. I suppose that means I need a different strategy. Any suggestions?""Hmmm…”  He thinks, turning and trotting onto a bridge.  “Well, I suppose if people are going to punish you either way, you might as well deserve it.""That makes a dangerous amount of sense.  Is it something I told you?""It was more something you showed me. Just today, in fact." He stops halfway across the bridge, turning to look at her. "So now that we're a safe distance away, why don't you stop hiding it?""Hiding?" L stares at him, hovering in place. "Hiding what?"Puck rolls his eyes. "Oh, don’t bother. You ought to be thanking me for playing such a good accomplice, and without even being told beforehand. C'mon, c'mon, I wanna see it!"L touches down, carefully shifting her arms until a book slides out from beneath her scanty robes - heavy and velvety. Her reliquary."What do you think?" She says, watching him closely.  “Have I earned my punishment yet?”"Seven times over." Puck says gleefully, bouncing up and down. “Oh, Lyra…”“...you always did know how to keep a bargain!” continue reading ->Rin here! In a bit of a hurry, but as ever next post in two weeks! Thanks for reading and leave illustration ideas in comments below :3. Keep it to 3 or less, thanks!