all_is_truth | There is this new thing happening...

Current Location: The old library

Entry tags:

There is this new thing happening...

Who: Ezra, Anyone
When: Arrival
What: An undead arcanist gets a library card.

Ezra L. Pyreborn, historian, linguist, and arcanist, architect of peace in his native Lordaeron, speaker to Titans and dragons, was lost. This wasn't the first time for such a thing. Wandering the world of Azeroth, crossing and re-crossing the line between death and life, negotiating between the competing factions of the Alliance and the Horde, had led him far afield. He was confident in his ability to navigate unknowns. But this time was different.

The interview with the Bronze Dragonflight was the last thing he remembered. They had opened a portal across time and space, and told him that his next destination lay beyond. Trusting them - for what else is there to do against an entire flight of dragons? - he stepped through.

He'd come out in a library. That much was clear. There were books, stacked and shelved to the lofty ceilings of a grandly furnished old building, and more books than he'd seen in one place in his life. Reading was clearly the business of whoever managed this establishment. His unnaturally glowing eyes found the darkness not at all troubling, though he found only a few candles, and no lanterns at all. Were there living patrons? If so, did they come only during the day?

Was the portal still there, closed and quiescent? It was not. Damn those dragons. What are they up to?

There was a reason he was here, surely. There was meaning in all this vast conglomeration of knowledge. There was no rush to be anywhere - dragon magic could cross time as well as space. And so Ezra Pyreborn, undead, zombie slave of the Scourge turned crusader of the Forsaken, loyal follower of Sylvanas Windrunner, tireless servant of peace, did what he had lacked the opportunity to do for a very long time. He sat down, and he began to read.

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The library was a study in deliberate anachronism. Automatic lights and mechanical affordances clearly existed, but the main directory of books was shelf upon shelf of cards, upon which titles, authors, and locations were hand-written in a meticulous, and highly legible, style.

The inconstant illumination revealed a black form by degrees, crouched atop one of the tables near the card stacks. He - or she, or it - was dressed in a black, broad-brimmed hat and a knee-length black longcoat, of a type probably discovered and rediscovered on any world where mud and rain are to be found. The white underneath wasn't clothing, but bandages, wrapping the figure up like a mummy.

The purpose of the dressing became clearer the closer one got. The charnel stench of the grave was only barely masked by some manner of perfume, probably on the bandages, and the spiritual miasma of an animated corpse could be felt by anyone with any degree of sensitivity to the invisible world. Burned flesh could be spotted peeking from the gaps in the bandages. Here was something that should have long since stopped moving.

Unnaturally glowing eyes looked up from the study of a thick leather-bound book laying open on the table, and began scanning the darkness.

Edited 2015-02-14 05:48 (UTC)

Being what she was how could she not feel that wrongness before she even caught sight of the man at it's core? She stepped, one foot raised ad her skirt washing against the lifted ankle, only to set her hand on the card catalog itself in hopes of finding something solid to brace against. It wasn't a pull, exactly. It wasn't the feel of a life bleeding out, nor was it the stench of evil that would set her running with nary a thought...

...nut neither was it wholesome and whole feeling. Oh Powers what could be crouched in a library!

It took a long breath and several smaller ones, making certain there was no evil in the air, before she felt steady on her own two feet and lifted eyes bled to golden toward the center of the feeling. "Pardon if I intrude, I thought not to find another here and so asked no permissions. If you hold this library my apologies and I beg forgiveness for my intrusion."

"Sa o ket," croaks a parched voice from a dessicated mouth. And then the creature speaks again. "Sso, there are otherssss, yess."

The voice is thin and reedy, sibilant, and sing-song. The speaker is not someone accustomed to drawing breath without thought. Every word takes a bit of effort, a conscious direction.

"There iss no intrusion. A place of learning ought to be a public space, yess?"

The apparition raises a withered hand, tipping its hat in what must be intended as a polite gesture. "Ezra L. Pyreborn, at your sservice. Your sspeech is sstrange, but I am a linguisst and a wizard besides. Perhapss you can ansswer ssome of my quesstionss. I find mysself at a dissadvantage."

Wrong wrong wrong sang along her nerves with every miniscule movement he made and word he uttered, wrong, but not uncivil, and not a Power as she'd initially assumed. Powerful, but not an Old One. That she might...

...ah, she was not a brave woman, no. She peeled overly thin fingers off the catalog drawers and took a few more steps, but she could not force herself to his table. The nearest she could manage without the shaking becoming obvious was the seats a row nearer. "...yes, and so, but this is a land of few souls and as such public spaces may no longer mean much. I will answer what I may?" To the best of her ability?

"I am Khemrys if it pleases, healer and the sole doctor here as of yet it seems."

"A physssician rather than a ssscholar, eh?" the creature - Ezra - keened. "Interessting. Then perhapsss you know who built thiss place? Or perhaps not, yess."

He hopped off the table in a smooth motion, standing not-quite-upright. His posture was unnatural, his spine bent and deformed, perhaps by undeath. "I have no immediate need of your sservices as a doctor, but I welcome any company. That said, hahaha.." His luminous eyes studied his reluctant conversational companion. "My people. We call ourselves 'Forsaken'. You will not inssult me if you flee, as I ssuspect you wissh to do. It iss always thuss with the living."

"Healer and Stillmistress," she corrected softly. "And so named doctor in the lands I have stumbled upon." For skill in medicine, surgery, and non-magical care alongside her natural calling.

Ah, 'the living', that was it wasn't it. That feeling of wrongness, a body moving when it should not. Certainly there had been such bound in the Wastes she had fled through but grace and instinct had steered her well clear of their abodes. It was easier, knowing, what was wrong that pushed upon her. "I do not wish to run, for if I do I may not stop, such is a pattern within me and I strive to grow past the long run." As she'd barely began to be able to speak of her ordeal with others before arriving here, well, she had not had much therapy, but breaking patterns? That she understood. "Though I would see it as a boon should you not draw too close lord, I may adjust in time, but such will like be long in coming. As for our new land here? I do not know, the city has been alone, and longing it seems for some time. It speaks through buildings at times, but I have asked little of it yet."

Ezra held very still, unnaturally so. He did not even breathe, nor needed to. Only his eyes tracked movement. He listened, and attended to what was said.

"My apologiess. The transslation is due to the arcane, and not precise.."

He lifted the leather-bound book from the table with elaborate care, and held it for inspection. "There iss much knowledge here, but none explaining the necessity of my presence, yes. The Bronze Dragonflight, my current patronss, have their own obsscure reasonsss in arranging thiss. It sseems I am not the only victim of dessstiny's hand in thiss matter. Perhapss we may aid each other in revealing the truth."

How must it feel from the inside to have no heartbeat to steady you and no feel of air reviving you? She could not even imagine what he might have to ignore in order to simply function!

"Well and so," she allowed simply, eyes slowly bleeding away from the gold to a far more human grey.

"This may not be such a place as they intended," she offered after a moment of looking the book over from her distance. "A lonely thing may reach and take when having the power to do so. I was in a between place, as were those I have met here so far. Mayhap you were also between, neither here nor there, and vulnerable to such a taking."

Ezra laughed. It was a hideous, unearthly sound, and it kept rolling out of withered lungs and blackened mouth longer than it ought.

"A power able to mock the Bronze Dragonflight would be potent indeed, yess. But grant ssuch a thing the power and will to ssummon, but not to sspeak its wishess openly and insstead watch its guessts flounder in darknesss.. My lady Khemrysss, you have far more to fear than one wretched Forssaken if that tale is true. For what you desscribe is not a being of good ssense and reason, but merely a potent child, and we be itss playthings."

He set the book down with exaggerated gentleness on the table and gestured around him with a bandaged hand. "Far more comforting to think there iss some mysteriouss purpose given to me by the dragonss, yes?"

She had to close her eyes a moment and still the urge to flee once more at that sound but she managed, yes. "Mayhap, then what of I though? I know of no dragons and hold no ship with those who may. My kith are not beholden to such, nor are they present here beside me. The city speaks, and true at times it seems so very eager to see me settled, like a child, and others it seems distracted. I could find fear in either aspect, truth told." Unknown powers either way honestly.

"My care is that I may aid and that I not be returned to my own world, beyond such I will strive to make a home and hold what peace about me I may."

Edited 2015-02-14 08:20 (UTC)

"My comforting illusionss do not account for your presence," Ezra confessed lamely. "I prefer to think that my masssters of the moment are enigmatic rather than capriciouss, yes."

"You say 'that I not be returned to my own world'. I very much wissh to return to mine. There is a war to prossecute, one on which ressts the survival of civilization and culture and freedom. I have friendss and allies who will need my sservices. So then what of you, if I may inquire further?" He rested against the table behind him, clasping his wrapped hands together.

"My world is one in which I grew knowing of far greater Powers who may shift a world and person within; but in kind one learned forms and respects to aid in keeping one safe. Mayhap I am less afraid of great Powers because I grew believing such may be safely respected," and as such the capriciousness of any tempered somewhat.

One could hope anyway. That was her comforting illusion.

"My sorrows for you, lord, to be away from such a place of need. As for my own world, well and so it is a simple tale. I am fair unlike those I was raised among and in time I was hunted, I ran, far and long," and indeed the signs of depredation were upon her yet if one knew how to look. She held little to no weight beyond the necessary, hands and face too thin by far even yet. "In doing so I fell between in a place others had learned to travel and I was taken to a new world. Small, so small, I could run around the whole in less than a day, but safe despite such. There I learned of doctors and earned my way as such. I had...just purchased a home with my finding sib, and then was plucked away once more. Now I am here."

Hands folded, Ezra listened and nodded at points. "To be hunted, to be different, to be sstrange. Yess.. you alsso are Forssaken in your own way. Thiss is the common history that binds my people together under the Dark Lady."

"Perhapss there are otherss we meet here who will tell a ssimilar tale, yes. It would be a ssad jest to have nothing but a healer attending a dead man, eh?" The laugh came again, but it is less ugly if no less inhuman. Perhaps he was capable of genuine amusement, not merely sardonic wit.

"...no, forsaken bears a far different weight in my own world," she admitted. "I may give thanks to the offer of kindred to forsaken is perilously close to the oath broken, those beyond forgiving and targeted by Power because of such. I wouldst not claim such attentions even in jest lest my own traditions bring ill upon this new land." Because where one of the Old Blood walked so too could the Powers reach.

"And mayhap. Two I have known in passing have also stumbled here but we did not speak after their arrival. I...have not stepped forth from the hospital until this day." For many reasons truth told. "And pity indeed. Should it prove that we are mostly and ever alone I am certain we shall endure and mayhap create a reading circle between us. Such would pass the time without the possible mishap of my ability and your body disagreeing with one another!"

Ezra tilted his head for a moment, and his body quivered. He seemed to tense. Then his body exploded outward in a shower of sand. It whirled about a central point for a heartbeat, then began to coalesce. First a vaguely humanoid outline, then a clearly-defined shape, emerged from the chaos. The sand fell away, seemingly evaporating into nothingness.

In its place stood a humanoid figure, as before. Bandaged, as before, and clad in the black hat and coat as before. But beneath and between the bandages was living flesh. Pale and hairless to be sure, but something akin to living flesh.

Ezra peeled away the bandages, revealing a human face. He smiled, showing white teeth and healthy gums. His eyes, fully restored, gazed steadily outward.

"It seems the dragons' gifts are still with me." He probed at his flesh with experimental fingers. "I felt a curious sensation, like a whirlpool below my soul. My arcane reserves are being drawn on by something about this place. Like.. a place of power, but in reverse. I.. still feel it. Curious."

He looked up, finding Khemrys with his living eyes. "This is me before my death. But.. I don't remember that life. I had another name. A wife, and a child. It is no longer who I am. But I will wear this mask if it will be safer, or easier."

The aura of death was gone. Whatever had been done, it was no mere illusion.

Had he ever had cause to see a cat startled in his own world? An explosion, no matter that it canceled the wrong feeling, was by far and enough for her nerve. Even as he was coalescing once more she was, somehow in an arching, startled hop, atop the card catalog cabinet,. There she balanced easily, fingertips lightly touching the wood before the pool of her skirts, eyes bled to golden once more in panic.

A gracious act, perhaps, but a startling one, and she was only grateful she had managed not to fright entirely into fur! "...so..." ah, that wasn't working. She licked her lips and peeled her tongue free from the roof of her mouth to try again, "...so I have felt. It is not great, and in the hospital it seems to work as the source of light? I feel the pull, gentle and small, and the wealth of lights upon a floor lives upon my arrival." She'd had ample time to observe the thrifty nature of the hospital at least?

"Easier by far, yes, thank you for such kindness."

"I was right." Ezra peered closer. "Your eyes. I thought I was imagining it earlier." He sniffed, and rubbed his nose with a bandaged finger. "Well. I'm gratified to know that my display wasn't for nothing."

He walked in a slow circle around the table, rotating his shoulders to work out the kinks, rubbing his hands, cracking his knuckles. "It is curious indeed what is happening to us. But there will be an answer."

And then he stood tall and smiled, a real human smile rather than the ghastly maw of the undead shape he wore moments ago. "Very well! There is this new thing happening. Someone wants me to be part of it."

He rested fingers on the leather book, still resting on the table. "So if we are to be here, it amuses me to be the caretaker of this place of learning until someone more suitable displaces me. And perhaps if I do not dance to our host's tune, I will feel his strings tighten and learn from whence they come. Nothing uncovers a hidden agenda like defiance."

What in the worlds Was he?! And if he had the option of not being so very wrong why had he not taken it sooner?! Perhaps not the most charitable of thoughts but she was a bit unsettled at the moment yes. She'd never had anyone explode in her vicinity after all. "Your pardon, I am a bit unsettled," she replied to his comment on her eyes.

The voice from speakers above clicked on, forestalling anything else as it spoke, "Welcome head librarian!"

Well then.

"It seems we both find ourselves in employ," she chuckled softly.

The wizard answered the voice with a flowery, exaggerated bow. "My thanks to you, oh new comrade, the head enigma."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, returning his attention to his more comprehensible guest. "My apologies. I have grown accustomed to that demonstration, perhaps too much so. But it has been a very useful tool, this becoming-flesh-again."

Returning to the table, he took the book and walked to a nearby shelf to return it. "There is much to learn here. Does my undead state matter? Does proximity matter? Magical potential? And so forth. So many experiments.."

He glanced back. "Your introduction made me assume you were similarly elected 'doctor'. But are you instead head greeter here?"

Edited 2015-02-15 18:31 (UTC)

...

...

Had the exploding addled his brains?! "Healer and Stillmistress cum doctor," she repeated softly. "The position was offered upon my arrival, I assume as I am qualified for such, and I did agree." But what was a head greeter? Would it be like a seneschal in a greater house?

Ah, but..."You are a fair strange individual."

"Healer and stillmistress cum doctor," repeated Ezra. "I know. But I am fair strange, and a thing of necromancy rather than a proper man. That you stayed despite your fear was... welcoming. I am past the need for medicine. But I felt welcomed." He flashed a simple smile. "Thank you for that. It is.. a comfort, in this dark place."

"This is not my home to bid one welcome to," she admitted, finally slipping out of her crouch to sit properly on the cabinet. "But as you come in peace I could do no less than to give my greetings. It would be a terrible and lonely place without others to speak to beside the city."

"You dislike the word 'Forsaken'. It means something to you, something other than how I use it?" Ezra thought back to earlier in the conversation. "For us it is an identity. Those free-willed undead who found a place with each other. The Dark Lady, first of our kind, pulled us back from mindless servitude."

"Though I am free of the Lich King's whispers in this place, it reminds me of that time when I was the slave of the Scourge." He studied the high ceilings of the library, eyes flickering about to spot signs of movement. "To dream someone else's dream, to watch your body move beyond your control, to enact horrors upon... well."

"You understand, I hope, why I have no love for this mystery voice or its dark and hungry city."

"What I know is that this world does not reek of evil nor Dark. Confusion perhaps, and an eagerness that speaks of loneliness, but no ill intent I may sense as of yet," she admitted. "I was displaced, worldless and staying in a world not my own, I do not find it strange to be lost yet again. I am sorry you may dislike this, I cannot feel the same. It is no less hospitable than my last abode, nor more dangerous than my original world." And for that she could be grateful at least?

"But to those with a place and a purpose, yes, I might imagine. I cannot offer either to you, but I may come by and offer tea as I may? Or stew if you should need to eat at times."

"Eating is foreign to me. But I have always known hunger."

Ezra smiled again at a passing thought. "Tea would be nice. And, if you are willing and it would not pain you to do so, tell me stories of the world you lost."

"I am an anomaly even among my fellows. They hate the living, but regret the loss of their lives. I have no such reference points. Life, in all its variations, interests me."

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