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A Living Relic

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Mere minutes after the sun rose, and Thadrick Dansbury was once again struggling to keep his eyelids open as he sorted book after book after book into its proper slot on each shelf. In exchange for nearly unlimited access to the Grand Empyrean Library and its contents, Thad had been "apprenticed" by its Master Curator, Venicenta Trouton. This meant being here no later than dawn, five days each week, to make sure the books returned a day prior were once again sitting where they belonged. Consequently, the library was where Thad spent most of his time these days. Come to think of it, aside from sleeping, preparing food, personal hygiene, and traveling to and from the library itself, he spent literally all of his time in the library. Why hadn't Venicenta just given him a bedroll and let him sleep there? He may as well be guarding it at night at the rate he was there.
 
It will all be worth it, he told himself. Wayside's library held myriad scrolls, books, tomes, and journals from all over the world, with contents ranging from simple diaries to detailed histories to renowned works of fiction. Scholars from Greendale often visited for assignments and research, and the college even borrowed literature from time to time. As Thad neared the end of his study and prepared for his final thesis, he was gathering what information he could on a topic most peculiar — the Locked Tongue. As Seekers dared to venture further into the unknown wilds, they more frequently happened upon old pieces of literature that they could not decipher. Even arcane methods of translating the text were discovered to be futile; whatever this language was, no amount of identifying, scrying, or research had resulted in anything fruitful. It was a tongue few linguists bothered to discuss nowadays, and only a handful of experts on it were still alive. But That was determined to unlock its meaning.
 
He always liked to challenge himself. It wasn't a competition thing, either. He couldn't care less about "great scholars of the past" or his own peers; Thad embarked on this quest out of personal ambition and genuine interest in the subject matter. He was no linguist — he would probably consider himself more of an archeologist, if anything — but that didn't make this unreadable language any less fascinating. Were the speakers aliens from other worlds, whose people had visited Karoh ages ago? Were they creatures from other planes who briefly made contact during the Planar Confluence, then suddenly vanished with nothing but these books? Why did they distort even the most powerful of divination spells? And, perhaps most intriguingly: what on Karoh did they say?
 
These questions and more Thad hoped to answer in his lifetime. Others had given up, but with the increasing boldness of Seekers throughout the land, Thad was sure someone would find a key to all of this soon, and he planned to be that person.
 
"Daydreaming again, lad?" the curator had come out of nowhere, her words pulling him from his reverie. She sighed a patient sigh and said, "I'm sure you are quite burnt out, but we have books to sort and not much time before we open. Best get to it." Then she disappeared back to wherever she had come from. Thad rubbed the rheum from his eyes.
 
"She's silent as night, that woman," Thad muttered under his breath. Really, though, Venicenta had been nothing if not pleasant, patient, and encouraging of him and his studies. She was always recommending sections to investigate whenever Thad found himself stuck or lost, and she even let him eat in the back room of the library while he studied (food and drink were strictly banned in the study areas).
 
But he had hit a roadblock again, and he wasn't so confident he could get past this one. After a year in this massive archive of knowledge and information, he was quite confident that he had exhausted its contents on the subject at hand. The Master Curator had been kind enough to let him stockpile the scrolls and books both concerning and containing the Locked Tongue — no other patrons ever borrowed them anyway — and the information was thorough. But he was no closer to any leads on it than he had been months ago. Worse yet, he was mere weeks away from the due date of his thesis, and he was nearing his wit's end. The common tongue was barely recognizable after all the time he spent staring at these cryptic symbols. And if he couldn't write a convincing theory on where these symbols may have come from, he could wave goodbye to his chances of research funding. He would have to start all over on a different mundane topic, but he would quit before he bothered again. I'm going to need a miracle.
 
The one fortunate thing about sorting books was that its tedium and redundancy passed the time rather quickly, once he got into a rhythm. Before he knew it, the last of his pile had been sorted, and not a moment too soon. Right at the seventh hour, he thought triumphantly. He often ran late and had to hide the books he failed to sort until Venicenta was preoccupied, but not today. With one less thing to weigh him down, he was determined to make some kind of progress today, even if he had to ramble a bit more on his report. But to Thad's immense fortune, he would not have to wait long for his miracle.
 
Right as the library opened, the bell chimed and a peculiar figure sauntered through the door. He — it, Thad supposed — was bipedal, and its frame essentially humanoid, but its "skin" was definitely metallic. It wore no clothing except for a backpack and belts, which held two sheathed longswords. Clearly a Seeker, then, he assumed. It walked toward Venicenta, who was at her usual spot behind the front desk, and its footsteps echoed through the mostly-empty halls. "I am looking for some information," it said robotically. It was definitely sentient, then.
 
Venicenta looked up from her paperwork, evidently not as surprised by this creature as Thad was. "And what kind of information, perchance?" she drawled back in reply. Venicenta wasn't particularly fond of Seeker-types; they were demanding, unprepared, vague, and generally unpleasant to work with.
 
"About... me," the machine-man answered sincerely. There was no air of vanity or self-importance in its voice — his voice, Thad decided. The way he responded sounded more like a child who was lost in a crowd, not some overconfident adventurer seeking an opportunity to boast. "I need more information, about where I come from. And what I am," he spoke very deliberately, like he had asked this exact question several times before. Judging by the importance in his voice and the rust and dirt staining his body, Thad guessed he had been at it for a while.
 
"I see," Venicenta said, interest overtaking reprisal in her tone. "Well, I'm rather busy, but my assistant, Thadrick, would be happy to assist you. Thad?" she volunteered.
 
Oh, great. Pawning him onto me, huh? he thought.
 
"Hello! I'd be happy to assist you," he said. "What kind of-," and before he could finish his statement, he noticed it.
 
His miracle.
 
"That... that symbol, right there," Thad pointed, "on your chest. Do you know anything about that?"
 
"I do not," the towering creature admitted. "Do you?"
 
"I just might. If you'll let me sketch it, I will need to go through some of my notes and books, but I'm almost certain I've seen that exact symbol before somewhere. Why don't you come back tomorrow and I'll let you know what I've found. Sound good?"
 
The creature hesitated. "It is very important. If I must wait a day, so be it. I will return tomorrow, then," and it made for the door.
 
"Waitwaitwait!" Thad grabbed him as he was turning. "Let me sketch the symbol first, or it won't be so easy!"
 
The creature seemed unabashed. "Okay," it simply responded. Thad was about to scramble for some parchment and charcoal, but Venicenta was already next to him with the items in hand, and a beaming smile on her face — a look she sometimes made when she saw him hunched over a book. He placed the parchment onto the creature's chest and wildly fanned the charcoal over the symbol until an accurate mark formed. "Is that it?" the creature asked.
 
"Yes, just come back tomorrow and I'll have more information. Thanks again, ah, what was your name? Sorry," he had forgotten manners in his haste and excitement.
 
"I don't have one," he replied simply, and left before they could continue the conversation. From the window, both Thad and Venicenta spotted him wander over to a nearby bench and sit, facing the library, stone-faced.
 
"Is he going to be there all day?" Venicenta wondered aloud, but Thad didn't respond. His mind was racing. He had finally found the missing key to all of this, maybe even literally. He vaguely recalled an old scroll in the Tongue that featured some kind of creatures like the one he just spoke with. Of course, at the time he read it, it literally didn't mean anything to him. But now, one of these creatures bearing a character of the Locked Tongue on its chest just stumbled into the library and practically begged Thad to research him. He just might finish a compelling theory after all. But it wasn't the time to daydream; he needed to double his efforts from here on.
 
"Uh, Master Curator..." Thad began. "You've been incredibly kind to me, and I know I promised to help out as you've asked, but-"
 
"Go," She cut in.
 
"Really?"
 
"Go," she insisted, smiling earnestly. "Don't worry about me."
 
He smiled, nodded, and returned to his room where he kept the works he had compiled, and his heart dropped. When did I acquire so many pieces? It was going to take a day to find what he was looking for. But that didn't matter to him anymore; he was finally, finally making meaningful progress.
 
Perhaps miracles really did exist, after all.
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