RP:The First Instance of Being Eaten by a Book

Background

This is part of the arc: The Mystery of the Wandering Grimoire

(written in mid-2010, a while before the other events in this arc)

Dimly Lit Reading Room

This room is slightly better lit than the library due to a larger amount of candles placed strategically around the room, yet the room is still dim compared to what human eyes would be accustomed to. The wax runs from the candles onto brass and carved out skull holders fixed into the cold stonewalls, casting eerie shadows throughout the room giving the place a very chilling atmosphere. Scattered around are large black oak tables and finely padded armchairs for people to read from the libraries dark literature. Some tables have their own candles illuminating evil passages in leather clad books whereas some tables have long since been abandoned to the spiders. Large intricate webs cover these tables and the books on them while their inhabitants cast fearsome shadows upon the walls. The air in this room is again stagnant and unclean and seems particularly unwholesome. Dead centre in the room is expertly preserved skeletal remains of a dragon in a pose that would suggest it is about to take off from the ground as its skull's mouth opens wide baring all its fangs for a moment you can almost hear a terrifying roar. You could stay here to read or go back into the library.

A large, leather-bound grimoire is here.

Kirien had been to various places over the course of the past week or so, keeping in little contact with his comrades during this time. He’d likely worried a few of them terribly in the process - the ones that cared, at least, and even the Elf wasn’t sure anyone save Nemisis and his fiancé cared that much about him. Still, here he was, slinking down into Vailkrin’s Black Library, his slight weight coaxing only a few creaks out of the old ladder on his journey downwards. Upon reaching the tiled floor, bright eyes peered about, near luminous in the dim as the light from weak candles reflected in the amber depths and appeared to brighten them. With dilated pupils soaking up all available light, Kirien slipped into the shadows - there were plenty of them, thankfully, allowing the agile little rogue a multitude of hiding spots to choose from should he stumble across a guard or someone -- perhaps something -- else that might not find his company so welcome. The library was vast in comparison with his tiny form, and the Elf quietly turned to investigate the other, smaller rooms before attempting to dig through all the dust in the main room. With this decision in mind he made his way silently to an alcove in the wall that turned out to be a passageway to one of said rooms, and after pausing to glance down the corridor in search of the presence of others, slunk along to the doorway. Old wood cracked forlornly as Kirien nudged the door open, amber orbs surveying the empty space beyond before he crept inside and closed the door behind him. “Ah…” He leaned back against the structure, taking a moment to observe the room more closely as he rested. “…Maybe there’s something here.”

Redhale was, oddly, not present, the vast table at the back of the reading room completely clear and the one chair that was paired with it tucked neatly in on the other side. The illusionist was likely out on business, or looking for a snack, but the library kept running without him, and every now and then a reanimated body would trundle around a bookshelf or down a passageway, their new lives dedicated thankfully to shelving books rather than security. In fact, the only real security that could be seen was one large locked bookcase at the back of the reading room: The glass cabinet in which the books considered 'dangerous' were kept. Most of them hadn't been read, or even moved, for hundreds of years. The time hadn't even been taken to dust them off, the ancient evils contained within enough to will most people to not even near them, but a few stood out by the mere fact that they had obviously been used fairly recently. A few more were apparently important enough to warrant their own bookstands instead of being set in file with the rest, but only one book fit both of these criteria: Just behind the lonely chair stood an unusually large book, almost as wide as a house's window even shut as it was, and covered in a thick leather which had been marked in a peculiar fashion, the dark patterns on it almost looking like a face. In fact if put beside the author those curling lines would clearly match the patterns of a certain mask.

Kirien shrank immediately into a darkened corner when the shuffling footsteps of a passing undead pricked his ears; the Elf pressed himself into the shadows as if attempting to become one with them, stilling his breathing as luminescent eyes watched the reanimated creature with caution. A soft trill emanated from the rogue’s back, or rather the medium-sized, elegant sword carried there, obviously of Elven design. “Ssh!” Kirien hissed to the weapon, glaring briefly at it over his shoulder as if the action would make any difference. It did, in a sense, as the sword’s song became slightly louder; a warning to its owner. “Shut up, Elethial!” Honestly, sentient swords were too much trouble, and part of Kirien regretted yanking the damnable thing free of the gigantic crustacean it’d been lodged in down below Arkhen’s temple. Then again, he thought, if there was anyone to blame then it was Lirithen, as the other Elf hadn’t told him of the properties of the blade. Bah. Steeling himself, and ignoring Elethial’s quiet warning tones, Kirien waited patiently until the zombie had lumbered off out of sight again before stepping out of his hiding place; he looked around once more, long ears twitching lightly when those golden eyes fell upon what was possibly the largest book the rogue had ever seen in his lifetime, and he exhaled loudly as if awed by the mere sight of the enormous tome. “That’s a big damn book.” State the obvious, why not. He made his way over to the grimoire, passing by the lone table and chair in the process and allowing his fingertips to brush the surface of the desk. Cold. Kirien breathed softly, inhaling the scent of the room and its occupants in the process. At least the scent was recognisable - he was on the right track at last? He’d spent the past week trailing all over the place in search of a clue or two to aid him on his little quest, and had so far come up with nothing. So much in the land smelled of death, and following scent trails was near impossible. In the end, he’d simply decided to poke about the land of the dead themselves; Vailkrin. It looked as if it’d been the right choice. Moving over to the leather-bound book, the Elf laid his palms flat against the face of it, tracing dark patterns beneath his fingertips and peering at the marks with a curious gaze; he grinned, widely. With an amazingly sharp eidetic memory, pairing the markings with Redhale’s porcelain mask was not a particularly difficult thing to do, and, now giggling softly to himself, Kirien started to tug at the heavy book cover with every intent of exposing its first page.

Redhale 's grimoire opened as easily as any other book in the library (save a few that, in fact, had to be tied shut) but the first page, and presumably the rest of them, were even blacker than the patterns burnt into its leather cover. If there was any writing on them it wasn't visible against their peculiar pages, but the book definitely wasn't empty. Whatever had been written, or woven, or enchanted into its pages gave off a similar feeling that the author himself did, a cold wave of humming energy, and for a moment the reader, if they could be called that, would feel as if it were staring right back at them. In fact it seemed as if the book was the only other sentient thing in the library, far more alert than any of the shelving assistants.

Kirien ran his fingers across the blackened marks on the front cover once more before flipping it back fully to peer at the words written upon the pages-- or not, apparently, as the entire book appeared to be crafted entirely of shadowy paper and whoever had written in it {if anyone had, Kirien was just presuming there of course} had not had the decency to do so in white ink. As such, anything that did grace the surface of those pages was completely unreadable by those amber eyes. And then the rogue was struck by the chilling sensation of being watched, while Elethial gave a more pronounced trill as if also picking up on the feeling; he turned swiftly, staring about the currently empty room with wide eyes that quickly returned to the open book upon realisation that there was no one else present. The irritating sword upon his back sung again and the Elf’s features twitched into a silent snarl. “You’re kidding me.” He lifted the book’s cover again, placing it back over the first page; and the feeling of eyes upon his form faded slowly in turn. “You’re kidding meeee,” Kirien proceeded to whine, thumping his fists a couple of times on the cover before opening it up again and glaring at the blank black page. “A staring book. Creepy. Well, hi, staring book. You should like, let me read you. Or something.”

Redhale probably would have spoken by now, but the book was silent, as was the whole library, save for the noise of one single page slipping away and floating off the table, another crisp hiss signalling the end of its see-sawing path to the floor. Had Kirien just damaged the book? Surely he couldn't have done anything to tear it; the page must have been loose from the beginning. Perhaps it was some inserted note, but it appeared to be exactly the same as any of the other pages, save the fact that it was now on the floor. Still, it must have meant something, because the odd feeling that the book gave off seemed to be intensifying, and in fact upon closer inspection the lost page seemed a might too big to come from the book. A quick glance back to the tome itself would reveal that it too, seemed too big, bigger than it had originally been even, and it seemed as though several other pages had freed themselves from the binding and slid away across the table, masking out parts of the room with their black blankness. Soon another page slipped free, and this one actually inched along like a worm to find a spot on the floor, next to the growing puddle of darkness that the first page had created. More and more dark pages flew from the book and before long the entire room had become completely black, darker than darkness, with no table, no books, and no exit.

Kirien’s head tilted in the direction of the fallen page making its way idly toward the library floor. Amber eyes blinked a little in confusion; nothing had looked loose before and it wasn’t as if he’d tried throwing the damn thing or anything. In fact, he’d done nothing that could possibly have torn the page free, hence his bemusement. Elethial, meanwhile, upped its pitch some until the Elf became distracted from the tome and ripped the sword from his back. “-What-,” he asked it in a low growl, “is so horribly wrong that you’re screeching like some girl?! Damn paranoid sword.” Slinging the still-whining blade back over one shoulder, Kirien looked back to the book - only to find its dark pages spilling everywhere and seemingly swallowing up the reading room he was currently stood in. The Elf’s mouth opened in a silent exclamation of ‘oh’ but the sound never came out as he turned, finding his own movements feeling sluggish, as if he were moving in slow motion before his eyes, and ran toward the door. A page sped by him to block the exit, however, and it was only mere seconds after that that the entire room had disappeared. And then there was black, and the sound of Kirien’s voice uttering exasperated words echoing in the darkness. “I -hate- books.”

Redhale would have warned Kirien to stay away from the books at the back of the room, known to those who frequented the library as the "restricted section." Despite all apparent misfortune, however, the elf should have been thankful they hadn't opened the book two places to the left of Redhale's grimoire, the first page of which has written on it ten words which, when read, will kill most people. In fact, Redhale's book was probably the safest one on those shelves, but that didn't make it a pleasure to read, not that there had been anything to read. The first glimpse of the books contents did eventually show up, some speck of light racing in from the distance, growing exponentially larger and more detailed until Kirien would find himself standing in a huge, thick, glowing forest. Even the grass which covered the ground glowed a pale bluish white, and the thick tree trunks shone through millions of almost transparent leaves. At least there was some light to navigate by, but not much else. The forest looked the same in every direction, and crossing the small stream which had run in from one side would only lead to another stream exactly the same as the first.

Kirien likely would not have listened to Redhale’s warnings had he been present, being the insatiably curious little Elf that he was. Though had the once-man mentioned the spell woven into the nearby book, he’d likely have left that one alone at least. Death was the last thing on his mind, after all - although it was also the predominant fear. Kirien continued to mutter various things which would be likely deemed threatening by a sentient book; things to do with burning and tearing and termites and the like, all of which Kirien assumed would be things a book would fear had it possessed a mind. The light served as a distraction from book-murdering obscenities and the rogue peered in the direction of the brilliance, forced to rely solely upon his eyes in this odd place due to the sudden lack of solid floor beneath his feet. At least, that was what it felt like. He was unable to feel the library any more, and the lack of ability to see with his body unnerved Kirien some - the only other places that way of seeing was rendered useless was in the sky, and in the Chaos realm. “Jeez.” He tapped his foot on the ground, dislodging frosty grass stems and yet still feeling nothing completely solid. “Where is this? What’s this bloody book done now?” A step forward was taken, followed by another, as Kirien debated attempting to explore. He ended up stood in front of a tree, staring wide-eyed up at the glimmering leaves as a hand raised to press, palm-flat, against the trunk. “…’S beautiful, though, wherever it is,” he murmured softly.

Redhale 's little world would have been familiar, to a degree, if the occupant had been alive several thousand years ago. Unfortunately Kirien's threats fell on deaf ears, as it was not the mind of the book he was entering, but the mind of the author. A world constructed of memories had been worked into the pages, and now those memories had been made real, as far as Kirien was concerned. The particular page he had stumbled on, being early in the book, came from Redhale's childhood, and as such depicted Sage forest, as it might have once been, save for the odd coloring and general feeling of impending doom. At least Kirien had managed to find a point in time when Redhale's brother would have actually been alive, but unfortunately not a soul was visible here, even though the feeling that the elf had been surrounded by people was ever present.

Kirien rather liked the colours of this forest, and the general atmosphere if he ignored the deeply foreboding feeling creeping up the back of his neck, raising hairs in the process. “How…strange,” he whispered, Elethial’s chime of agreement following in the wake of his words before the sword went back to its soft warning calls; it really wasn’t happy in this odd land of constructed memories and glowing trees. “Still beautiful, but weird as hell. Where the hell am I?” The Elf found himself asking again despite himself, despite knowing there was no one around to answer him. Or was there? It did feel as if there were many people around, although whenever Kirien looked he saw nothing, felt nothing. He called out once more, a simple, questioning greeting that echoed about the surrounding landscape, luminous amber eyes peering between the trees as if searching for the shadowy figures of the ones watching him.

Redhale , or maybe it was Redhale, sprung out of the mess of trees as if upon command as soon as Kirien spoke his greeting. Far shorter than the curious elf, the boy hopped up to the stranger and gave a short nod of his little glowing head, "Hello!" One word was the entirety of the communication between the two before the small boy simply vanished again, disappearing into the forest as unexpectedly as he had appeared.

Kirien jumped literally three feet into the air {he was an Elf, after all} at the boy’s sudden appearance, stumbling back and pressing up against a tree in the process. “Wh-What…what did--!” He was unable to even finish his question, whatever it may have been, when the bright little child vanished as quickly as he’d arrived, and Kirien slumped in shock against the tree trunk, staring with wide eyes at the surrounding greenery. When the initial surprise had cleared he paused to think. The book was obviously enchanted, and alive in more ways than one, and while there were perhaps no words written on the pages, they could have been woven into the very paper themselves. That would explain this situation, he supposed; opening the book had triggered the spell which brought about this world, the one on the first page he had looked at in the library. Whoever had created the tome -- and that was obviously Redhale -- had done so in a way that made it extremely hard to ‘read’ the contents. Kirien blinked. “…Hello?” he called again, into the empty air with his own breath held in trepidation. It was worth a try, right? To call back the boy using the same command as before. Although if that failed to yield the desired result, the Elf would follow on cautiously with; “What…what’s your name?”

Redhale 's little avatar appeared again, this time simply blinking into existence right in front of Kirien and already halfway through his "Hello" response. The single word was then followed by a jumble of sounds which could have only been an answer to Kirien's question: Hundreds, if not thousands of names being spoken at once, and as they rung out hundreds, if not thousands of faces appeared briefly amongst the trees: Relatives, friends, enemies, and at least five images of the illusionist himself through different stages of his life. The little boy disappeared only shortly after them once he had taken the time to pose his own question, one that sounded entirely innocent when spoken in the voice of a carefree young lad, "Who are you?"

Kirien’s features lit up with a relieved and pleased expression when the boy reappeared before him. So he had been correct in assuming that the things within this book responded to certain words; at least, he hoped that was right. The assault of voices following on from his second question caused the rogue’s ears to twitch and the youth to press a few digits to his temple in pain, and he fought through the throbbing sensation in his head so as to look at the other, and observe the faces bursting briefly into life in the background. “…I’m…Kirien,” he uttered after a short pause, blinking once more. “Kirien Vahir. The sword’s Elethial, don’t talk to it.” The last part was added when the blade in question rung loudly, as if irritated that it had not been introduced also. “Is that what you want to hear? Ah…and, where is this place?”

Redhale 's voice, unfortunately sounding much more like the being as he was today, rung out from the trees in sympathy with Kirien's own, repeating the elf's name before he had even finished speaking it himself. Kirien Vahir, noted. The man in question, however, was not given enough time to contemplate what this might mean as surely enough little Red popped up to answer his next question, "This is Sage, this is where we live. Don't you live here too?"

Kirien absently made a mental note that, should he ever be dragged into a sentient book’s pages again, he’d give it an alias instead of his actual name; there was something in the way the voice mimicked his words and spoke his name in that familiar tone that sent chills down the rogue’s spine. It was as if the book was storing the words somewhere in its infinitely black pages for later reading, and Kirien wasn’t so sure he liked that. He blinked once more, however, as the boy proceeded to call the glowing area Sage - the Sage Forest? Surely not. “Sage…Forest? Right? This is Sage?” he asked, casting his eyes around to briefly view the strange trees once more before looking back to the avatar, whom, now he stared at him, seemed as oddly familiar as that voice. “I come from somewhere else. How long have you lived here?”

Redhale remained visible now, the small child staring endlessly at Kirien without even a hint of a blink. The effect would have been off-putting, if the image hadn't been entirely devoid of colour and thus dehumanized regardless. He confirmed that it was indeed Sage, but made no mention of the time period. If the figure was indeed Redhale, it was surely a long time past, "I've lived here all my life…" Not too long then, not yet at least, "But if you're not from here, where could you have come from? Are you sure you're not lying?" He seemed confused by the idea, but was also far more interested in Kirien's home than he was of his own. As young as he was the boy had outgrown his home, his family, his lifestyle.

Kirien, had he been a more normal person, likely would have been a little unnerved by that unblinking stare; being who he was, however, the boy’s gaze was simply intriguing and the Elf attempted to stare back. Eventually, the itch of dry eyes became too hard to ignore, and he ended the little contest with a blink, and sat abruptly at the foot of the tree he’d been leaning against. The underlying sinister sensation was still felt and paid attention to by Kirien, of course, but he was content to relax a bit for the moment; there looked to be no immediate danger in his eyes. “I come from where I come from. Dunno the name, can’t remember, but I’m quite sure I’m not lying. There’s lots of places other than Sage though! You’ve never travelled anywhere else?”

Redhale's little image shook his head, "Everywhere else is dangerous. People get killed outside of the forest, mum says. How come you haven't been killed yet?" It was true that the small group here were pretty well protected; while some wild beasts would give them troubles barely any visitors came through, as evidenced by the boy's reaction to Kirien, "But I'm not going to live here forever, my brother and I are going to be adventurers! If we can just find a way to get out of here…"

Kirien did not have a maternal side, oh no; he was not a woman, after all. But part of the rogue really did want to just cuddle the boy and pet his hair. Even if he was a rather odd little child living in the world crafted by a creepy sentient book {or its writer, either way}, he couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable. Kirien decided he’d have to pay more attention to Nameless when he got out of this place, to rid himself of the urge to adopt something. Oh, adopting this paper-child {or whatever he was; paper-child was a cute nickname} would be so--! He slapped himself in the forehead, and coughed. “Ah, it’s pretty dangerous, but to go your whole life without experiencing danger sounds…more like you’re just existing, not really living, don’t you think? I’m alive because I’m good at living, and I don’t want to die~! I’ve been in some pretty crazy situations before but I’ve always made it out alive in the end.” A pause came when the child mentioned having a brother, and Kirien’s ears pricked up slightly. “Brother?” he asked softly, almost cautiously as if he thought Redhale would pop up at any moment and tell him he’d been caught. “How sweet~. You’d probably make good adventurers, you and your brother. Is he your big brother or is he younger~?”

Redhale 's world wavered at that moment, a few of the trees off to the west crumbling away to put an end to the infinite repeating section of forest. As the small figure answered his questions another person began to approach from the same direction as the disturbance, "He's my big brother… But only by two years! Pretty soon I'll be as big as him!" The brother himself was almost surely the being running in from the west, the boy looking almost identical to the one speaking with Kirien. This figure, however, paid no attention to the conversing pair, instead running a little further on to meet with another image of the young Redhale, immediately engaging in silent conversation with his brother.

Kirien would look up upon catching abnormal movement in the corner of his vision, his head turning sharply to allow amber eyes to blink at the new figure advancing upon them. He eyed him for a few moments, taking in everything about his appearance, before glancing back to the young boy in front of him. “I’m sure you will~. You look very alike. What’s his name?” The question came almost naturally from the Elf’s lips, spoken so as not to entice suspicion, but simply to paint Kirien as an ever-inquisitive person interested in this child’s story and family. He continued the conversation so as not to draw attention to that one question in particular. “Is it nice, having an older brother? I think I had one, but I’m not sure; I don’t remember him…” Smiling, the rogue looked once more in the direction of the other boy, now noticing that a third person had appeared - this one identical to the first youth he’d spoken to. “…What’s he doing?” he asked after a short pause, canting his head to one side and blinking in bewilderment. He’d expected the child to come to them, and speak, or something.

Redhale and his brother apparently finished speaking and sat themselves down opposite each other. The small patch of ground between them was suddenly filled with a pile of sticks, as pale and luminous as the trees in this recorded memory, and each brother picked one up at a time, appearing to stare at them with great concentration before tossing each twig aside after a few moments of consideration, "His name is-" Again the telling of a name was interrupted with a garble of voices, thousands of people each giving their own, or someone else's, name. It was possible, however unfair, that Redhale himself didn't know his brother's name, "It's great having an older brother, we did everything together. We played, learnt, taught and fought." The figure standing next to Kirien had lapsed into past tense, and a glance over would reveal that the boy had grown tens of years in a single moment, "My life would have been completely different if it hadn't been for him." Suddenly one of the sticks that the younger version of Redhale had been inspecting burst into a fantastic blue flame, much to the delight of the pair, "Without him to learn with I would never have been taken away from Sage."

Kirien leant a little more heavily against the tree trunk, crossing one leg over the other. His ears twitched once more at the indiscernible mush of voices all speaking at once in response to his question, and the Elf’s brow furrowed in a displeased frown. “You,” he said, poking the child in the chest, “answer me. Just you, not the rest of them. It’s hard to hear when there’s a thousand of you talking at once.” Sitting back again, he fell quiet so as to listen to the boy speak, while eyeing the other two nearby with those ever-bright ember eyes. It took him a few moments to even realise that he’d switched tense, and when he did he looked back around immediately; Kirien blinked upon finding a teenager instead of a young boy standing before him, his mouth opening as if to say something that never actually left his lips. What an odd place this was…had he moved on to another page, or something of the like? “Ah…so what happened? How’d you get out of Sage?” the rogue managed eventually, the sapphire glow of the burning stick reflecting in his gaze.

Redhale simply raised one robed arm and pointed towards the two across the clearing, who were being approached by another figure, another being from out of Sage, but not quite so removed from this world as Kirien was, "We were picked up by this traveller, a mage from the mountains in the west," And over in the distance the Xalious ranges reared up as if on command, looking not unlike they had been carved out of ice in this strange, glowing world, "He found us practicing magic, and so took us so that we could learn more." The mountains in the distance began to crawl forwards, running over the forest and sweeping under Kirien's feet to put him in a new setting: A small camp atop one of the mountains which overlooked the rest of the land, "And we were out forever."

Kirien’s head tilted, the manner of the movement catlike as he looked in the direction of the other’s outstretched arm. The approaching figure was scrutinised as always by the Elf’s sharp, bright gaze, as he watched the unfolding scene with interest. It really was like reading a story, only this was a far more visual and interactive way to do it than to simply sit and stare at words scratched on paper. If this hadn’t been a slightly sinister and sentient book written by Redhale, and if he wasn’t busy trying to subtly extract information from the illusionist’s characters, Kirien might have been enjoying himself a lot more. “A mage from Xalious~?” As the mountain range drew close, swallowing up the forest with its sheer mass, Kirien raised himself to a standing position, unable to stop himself from jumping over the line between forest and mountains as if he thought he might be lost as the greenery had been beneath the rock. The rogue was silent for a short while thereafter, his head twisting side-to-side as he took in the view gifted to him by the height of the camp he’d been transported to. “And then what?” he asked the younger Redhale, whom he hoped was still present.

Redhale stood by Kirien and watched himself, both images now appearing somewhat older, practice a variety of spells and charms upon the mountaintop. Many other faces moved through the area, some stopping to watch the boy, others simply drifting past to attend to their own practice, "Yes. He brought us to meet up with others like ourselves, and to learn." Across the peak a pair of students dueled, slinging amateur charms through the air with a lot of flair but not much in the way of power. After one had finally managed to trump the other, mainly by way of the loser exhausting himself, the image of Redhale sauntered over and apparently challenged the victor, knocking the poor sod off his feet immediately after the challenge had been issued, "We were fast learners, both of us, but that meant that the only real competition we had was each other." The scene shifted a couple of valleys over, and there Redhale and his brother were at wand's end, facing off for the entertainment of the other students, and for their own egos, "But then, as you know, there are more dangerous things out in the world."

Kirien, while he had been exposed to the magical workings of the book for quite some time now, had mostly been able to ignore its effects due to it being underlying and relatively passive. He was, of course, allergic to magic, but generally to draw a reaction from him it had to be a largely concentrated force, or some such. And the spells being flung about the area, although they were likely only illusions, elicited a sneeze from the Elf despite his attempts to hold it back. He tugged a bit at the mask hanging around his neck, as if deliberating whether or not to pull it up over his face. “Aha, so you were pretty competitive with each other here, huh?” the rogue commented, eyes fixed upon the entertaining little spectacle. “Magic seems to do that with people. I’ve heard of thousands of magic contests being held, it’s crazy. And you did turn out to look like him.” He grinned a little at his narrator, arms folding over his chest as he tried to occupy his hands with something other than fiddling with his mask.

Redhale nodded, "We had always been competitive, but looked out for each other as well. That's why I had no idea how to feel when I killed him." The duel between brothers raged on for quite some time, with some true skill mixed in with a lot of blatant showboating. It didn't, however, end in death, the older brother only forced to take a knee as Redhale knocked one leg out from under him, raising his arms to a chorus of cheers and moving to help his injured brother up, "He really was just as good as me, and it could have just as easily fallen the other way." The group began to move back to the camp, one brother limping a little, the other just about skipping over the rocky ground, "But I suppose I could do little to stop it." As he finished the sentence the figure who had guided Kirien this far through the strange land vanished again, abandoning Kirien, and not simply because he had said his piece. From over the ridge several screaming figures spilled, all claws and teeth, rushing down the rocky slope to descend upon a confused and frightened group of students. One girl who's feet apparently weren't as fast as her brain was leapt upon within seconds, three of the assailants tearing into her and beginning to feed. The sight brought the rest of the group to their senses and so they began to sprint away from the descending maniacs, both predators and prey rushing towards Kirien.

Kirien looked up sharply at the mention of death, blinking at Redhale. His mouth opened to question the comment but he kept the words to himself as the match ended and the elder brother had his leg knocked out from under him; expecting him to be killed because of what had been said, the rogue waited, his body tense, until it was clear that this was not the day the act was committed. “Why did you have to kill him?” he asked, just as his narrator disappeared. “…Hey, come back! What happened? You can’t just say that and then not--” Horrendous shrieks and screams drowned out Kirien’s words -- or perhaps they had already died upon his tongue at the sound -- and the Elf spun about, ears flattening in a somewhat catlike manner against his head, luminescent eyes fixing intently on the new scene quickly unfolding before him - around him, even, as now the group were dashing his way. He suddenly found himself with a bit of a dilemma. There was the option to attack the creatures and there was the option to run, and while Kirien rather wanted to attack he wasn’t too sure if any of his weapons would even have an effect on the murderous creatures. They were of two different worlds, after all; he was of reality and these were a part of the book, only illusions. Right? Deciding not to take any chances, Kirien turned off away from the frightened group and their predators, sprinting in leaps and bounds up a slippery, rocky slope to their right and moving to an elevated position where, hopefully, he’d be safe from the beasts. “Oi, come back here and explain what the hell’s happening, huh?” he called to the empty air, frowning.

Redhale made no reply, one of his avatars having disappeared into the ether and the other using every breath he had to navigate the slippery slope, looking over his shoulder on occasion to mark the progress of his classmates. Not a one of them stood to fight; if the brothers from Sage were going to run they were going to bloody well follow, but none of the students were as fast as their pursuers, rows of sharp teeth tearing into each one in succession as they were picked off. The murderers wailed as they filled their appetite, thick shrieks of ecstasy crowing out into what could only be assumed to be the night, not that the bizarre lighting in this world had changed since Kirien had entered. The victims were not given any chance to surrender, to be enslaved or turned, they were simply slaughtered, and so from each glowing mass of frenzied feeders came the sounds of tearing flesh, bodies being quartered and shared amongst the hunters. Kirien had been lucky to hide to one side, because while they hadn't actively sought after the boy they certainly wouldn't have treated him any kinder if they had found him. Still, he was forced to watch the entire scene, right down to the last two survivors: Our heroes themselves. Too bad for the pair, one of them was moving with a limp, and it was surely only the cruelty of the gods that had let him reach the bottom of the valley, because once he was there, sure that he had escaped, the leg gave up and he fell, left to a nasty fate in Redhale's wake as the younger brother raced off into the woods.

Kirien, crouching behind a large boulder and peeking out from behind it, surveyed the situation carefully, not all that disturbed by the desecration and blood being spilled everywhere. In fact, the method of the killers rather interested him and he drank in their movements almost as greedily as they sampled the flesh of the students, the Elf’s mind working frantically to capture all the available information and lock it away swiftly. When Redhale’s brother fell it took Kirien a second or two to notice, and then a half-second more to realise that the other boy had disappeared into the woods without his sibling; not really thinking, and deciding that the story was heading in that direction anyway, the rogue leapt down the slope, slipping a bit on loose scree which would likely alert his presence to the others. With rocks tumbling down the side of the mountain in his wake, Kirien hit the ground running, darting to the fallen youth’s side and kneeling. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, or if there was any point -- Redhale had said he would die eventually so surely his actions would have no effect -- but the Elf tugged at the brother’s arm hurriedly, glanced in the direction of the feeding beasts. “Get up, huh? Come on, get up.” He pulled with a little more urgency, luminescent eyes flickering between the fallen boy and the glowing figures slightly higher up the valley.

Redhale reached out to grasp Kirien's shoulder, the could touch of his hand indicating that this was not the younger mage that Kirien had encountered before. A quick turn would reveal that in fact, the new apparition was not only matching the mage's current appearance, but was presented in true colour, which was perhaps a bad sign, "You can't help him, boy." Indeed, only a few seconds after Kirien had called out to the fallen lad the others were upon him, the first stabbing one clawed hand into the mage's back while a second leapt at Kirien, gaping maw set to snap shut on the elf's face only to disappear; a fortunate side effect of Redhale having left the scene was that the memory did not run long enough for Kirien to become a stain on the pages, "Foolish of you to meddle with things you don't understand, more foolish to meddle with things of mine, but it is no matter…" The being gestured to the ground where moments before the image of his brother had lain, the spot now taken by a sobbing, crawling child, carving a grave marker for a lost brother. The child sat back to assess his work, wiped one hand across a face mucky with tears, snot and grit, then turned and ran. The revealed work was not revelatory: A simple square carved into the mountainside, well carved, but empty, "His name does not lie in my memories."

Kirien squeaked without meaning to at the sudden touch, or rather at the deathly chill he received from the contact. Turning quickly about, the Elf abruptly winced upon confirmation that this was indeed the current Redhale, whom he’d not really wanted to catch him while he was still stuck in this book. “B-But you just…you just left him, why’d you do that? You were a skilled mage, why didn’t you help him?” he asked, and then noticed the beast’s jaws looming up in front of him and thrust his arm out, the whir of mechanics filling the air a telltale sign that one of those shadowy blades had been set loose on the disfigured creature; which vanished so suddenly that it took Kirien a moment to catch up and realise the memory had run out and saved him. Picking himself up from the ground, the rogue looked to the illusionist at his side, dusting his coat with one hand as his weapon was retracted back into its concealed vambrace. “I didn’t exactly mean to end up in here. Your book ate me,” muttered Kirien, giving one of his childish pouts as he glanced at the new image playing out before him. He was back on his knees before he knew it, the nimble Elf crawling to sit beside the grave marker and place a hand upon its blank surface. “Why don’t you remember? He was someone you cared a lot about, right?” And then he realised he was being an utter hypocrite there; after all, Kirien had had his own siblings once, and could he remember the names of any of them? Or even their faces? Not at all.

Redhale chuckled a little as he moved forward, the throaty huffs he issued echoed by the world itself, "There was no going back to help him. I had helped him get as far as he got, but could do nothing once he had fallen, on the very leg I had injured." The hulk of robes moved onto what were probably its knees before the small engraving, "I was definitely an excellent mage, and that was why I knew there wasn't a thing I could do to hurt those monsters." He gave a shrug, and moved forwards somewhat, one hand dusting across the patch of earth, "It has been a long time since then, a lot of other memories. Some things just… Slip." He wriggled his bony fingers at one spot on the ground, peeling up a portion of the landscape to open a window of inky blackness, which ripped wider, springing out to snap around the two remaining figures, who would find themselves not in complete darkness but instead barely five feet from where Kirien had picked the book up to begin with, "But now, when the knowledge is just about useless, I have an urge to find it out."

Kirien frowned a little, caught between protesting that such a thing just wasn’t right and keeping quiet and accepting it; the latter was what he was used to but the former, in a sense, seemed much more human. He paused, distracted by his own internal feelings for a few moments as Redhale spoke, and he barely caught his words but managed to take them in all the same. “What were those things?” The beings had borne features and traits similar to creatures the Elf knew of, but at the same time they had been quite different, and far more ferocious. He looked back to the gravestone, so smooth and unblemished and unfinished. It didn’t seem complete without a name, he found. And then it was gone and he found himself sat on the floor of the library, apparently in the designated path of one of the undead caretakers as it stood silently behind him as if waiting for him to move. Unnerved by the creature, Kirien quickly slipped out of its way, glancing to the book he’d set foot in the pages of, and then to Redhale himself. “Knowledge is never useless,” he said with the slightest hint of a smile. “I think it’d be good if you did find out. You could add it to your book.” Speaking of the tome, actually, the rogue’s head tilted as the word jogged a question he’d been meaning to ask. “…How long were you here? Were you watching the whole time?”

Redhale shook his head as he lifted himself up into his seat, one had slipping under the cover of the book to snap its hefty bulk together, leaving it to be picked up and re-shelved by the very creature Kirien had blocked, "I only just arrived, but I know what happened." He huffed out a quick breath, "Obviously, I experienced it first hand." He turned about to stare at the collection of treacherous tomes along the back wall, "As far as I understand they were vampires, albeit somewhat more wild than the lot we get in Vailkrin these days. Somewhat more impressive too, for the most part." Another chuckle, "I suppose they might not have been exactly like that, but if my mind has altered that memory over time, it is probably more likely that it has made it better, for the mind's own ease." The words were just about whispered, and followed by a tired sigh, "I suppose, if the name is supposed to be found, it is in another way. You may leave now."

Kirien emitted a slight sigh and spun about, wandering idly about the room while listening to Redhale and, as always, taking in each and every little detail and memorising them. “Oh. Right. Well at least the book’s okay…it sort of…fell apart earlier and ate me.” He waved a hand as if to silently demonstrate the fact that the book’s pages had literally filled the entire room; or blocked it out, either way. The rogue came to a stop before the illusionist’s desk, peering curiously at him. “They looked a lot more interesting than the vampires these days, that’s for sure. Don’t think I’d like to run into a real one though. And if even you don’t know his name, and my task is to find out his name…ah…how am I going to do this…?” The last question was actually more directed at Kirien himself than Redhale, as the Elf’s brow furrowed and he lifted a hand to rub his chin. He heard the other’s last statement; he obviously wanted him out, and if Kirien were honest with himself he’d quite like to leave this rather dusty room. While it was interesting, the underlying feeling of foreboding was not so suited to his tastes. “Right, right, I’m going.” Turning, he headed to the door, and paused just in front of it. “Y’know, as much as you don’t look it any more, you’re still pretty human inside, aren’t you? That’s pretty cool.”}