Royal Archivist

Two members of the royal household, in the space of a single day.

Millie decided that tomorrow her apprentice could take over managing the archive. She was going to stay home and treat herself to hiding in her basket with a nice bowl of raw fish.

---

The archivist finished the reports, glaring at the sunrise as she realised how long it had taken her. She bundled and sealed them, leaving them in the mail basket to be taken to the palace, before she skipped out and towards the marketplace.

She hummed to herself as she entered the street. Most of the stallholders were just beginning to open up. A few waved to her as she passed them by, recognising her.

One of the best things about no more bells was that no one but Millie could get mad at her for wasting her own silver. Her home was filled with nick knacks, dresses she would never wear, and all kinds of toys.

She paused at her favourite toymaker, who was still drawing up the blinds, eyes lighting up. Her tail went straight up, and her face went down to eye level at the little wooden object sitting on the counter, "A new one!"

He laughed with his back to her, "Not sure what to call it yet, Miss Millie. My kid has been rolling two of them down a hill, to see which gets there first."

"Racing carriages." She said with a grin, her nose practically bumping into it, "But not shaped like a carriage. The smoothing on one side, is that to help it go faster?"

"Yeah. The wing on the back helps it keep all wheels down, too."

She reached into her purse without thinking, "How much?"

"Couple copper."

She dropped the coins and snatched up the object excitedly. Blowing at the wheels and their holes to make them turn. She hummed some more, "Thanks, Kynn. Next time."

"Sure, thing."

Millie skipped down the road, completely absorbed in her new toy, and trying not to make sound effects as she played with it, until her mouth watered and she caught the smell of fresh fish.

She looked up at the fishmonger, practically drooling as she watched him still bringing in the catch. He hadn't even had a chance to skin or gut any of it yet. Millie wasn't the only neko standing outside the stall.

A few street kitties were there, a fistful of coins clutched tightly in their fists as they glared around at anyone who might take what was theirs. A single white salamander stood out by how no one wanted to stand near them, letting them to the front.

Millie was tempted to pull rank. She worked in the palace.

The catgirl held her toy tightly and meekly took her place at the back with the rest of the gathering crowd. Counting her gold in her head. The best pieces were two gold each, but if she bought a dozen, she wouldn't afford to buy any more food until she got paid. Which meant three days of a gurgling stomach, from experience.

She could instead settle for the midfish, and spend only an unreasonable amount of silver. She wouldn't be able to afford any more toys, but she had an entire archive full of books to explore, including the tales of the gods that nearly felt like another world to escape into.

"I like this one, too."

The street cats scattered, and Millie miaowed in surprise, ducking her head, "E-empress."

"Just here for fish." The woman laughed, "Her Sai bought her first treat, here. She has him send her some most days, but Toofy also needed to talk to the Millie."

Her tail drooped, "M-Millie isn't working today, your grace. Her apprentice should be able to help her, your grace."

"Dozen pieces." The empress ordered, skipping the line and causing the salamander to mutter in irritation. The woman tossed a platinum square to the stallholder, "You know how she likes it, sir. Mmm... Where was she? Oh! The Millie. Toofy has a mission for her. Very secret. Very compulsory."

The catgirl passed her a sealed scroll, "Read it when you get home. And the fish is for you. Enjoy."

With that, the empress wandered away and was instantly re-surrounded by royal guards. Greeting various stallholders and acting like she was just out for a walk and hadn't just imposed something hellish on her archivist.

---

Millie snuffled in under her pink blanket, curling up tightly inside her basket before snatching up one of her fish and slurping up the raw flesh. She ignored the damned scroll she'd dropped beside it, refusing to acknowledge it.

Empress or not, Millie was not working today.

She wasn't.

Even if the empress had given her mouth-watering fish that practically melted on her tongue and made her make happy and loud noises, she absolutely was not reading the scroll today.

The empress probably wanted her to explain some more about natural philosophy or the Well of Souls, but Millie was neither a philosopher nor a magus. She wasn't going to be able to help the angry kitty with a heart of spite.

Millie rolled onto her back and drooped another fish into her mouth, kicking happily as the taste hit her tongue.

Her tail dropped onto the floor, and she tiredly rolled over. She just wanted to eat and then take a massive and exhausted nap. She hadn't even gone home, and the terrifying empress was forcing a mission onto her.

She pouted, "Shit."

The catgirl sat up, hugging her blanket around her and broke the seal on the scroll. Her invisible fur stood on end uncomfortably as she felt an enchantment roll out from the object, confirming she was the intended recipient.

She unfurled it, flicking her head awkwardly to keep her glasses in place. She really needed to find someone willing to design a new set of glasses for nekos. Using a strap to hold them on her head wasn't working out.

She pursed her lips, the scroll was also protected by a cipher. Was it using yesterday's password, or today's? She pulled out her sketchpad, nibbling on the end of her pencil as she tried to remember both.

Unsurprisingly, it used yesterday's. Millie wasn't the only one who had worked through the night.

She read over the message, made a whining sound and double-checked to make certain that she hadn't read it wrong. Apparently the royal guards had found Elatham's original Well of Souls, intact. Destroyed only on paper.

Inside the tower was copious amounts of mage's research on the longterm effects of the Well on a series of subjects. Living in another worldplane for a long time seemed to induce generalised anxiety, paranoia, agoraphobia, and general anthrophobia.

Whilst the guards had managed to extract and relocate most of the subjects, there was one that was particularly problematic. The research referred to him only by the letter L, a name he didn't appear to respond to.

To worsen matters, he had apparently adapted better than the other subjects. Whilst he had all the mental instabilities, he had spontaneously developed magical ability through his prolonged exposure, and was able to both distort the physical distances around himself, and seemed to be able to... The report writer said, "Swallow up any source of light."

Millie was ordered to approach and establish communications with L.

If she didn't, then Toofy would have her publicly flogged, and she would spend a month in the stocks. As the famine was beginning to be problematic, the usual assortment of rotting foods would be replaced with the copious amounts of horse droppings from the royal stables.

If she attempted it, whether or not she failed, then Toofy would give her a week off from work, and she would be paid double her usual rate during that time.

A very generous encouragement, and a very nasty punishment.

She mewled and rolled around on the floor in a tantrum. What in the fuck did she know about talking to people who had been tortured for probably decades? Why did the demon empress care who she was, all of a sudden?

She just wanted to take care of her books!

Millie shoved another fish into her mouth, standing up with the remaining bundle and headed back out the door and into the city. She hated it, but she really didn't have a choice about any of this.

She'd finished her snack by the time she found the wizard's tower. The surrounding gardens were absolutely crawling with royal guards of all kinds. A number sported the new clockwork bows, and about a half dozen of them carried magical staves.

A tauran loomed over her, sneering down at her. His horns looked like he both polished and... Sharpened... Them. "This area is off limits, neko. Run the other way, street kitty."

"The fuck?" Millie forgot to be afraid, "Do I seriously look like I'm homeless, to you?"

"Home is where the head is. Has to be attached to a body for that." He unslung the warhammer that was twice her height and probably three times her weight, and poked her with it, sending her sprawling.

She sputtered at him, "I am Miss Milicent, you jerk! Sent by the empress herself!"

The tauran snorted, the ring in his nose swinging, "Right. And I am the Green Goddess."

Millie considered leaving. It wasn't like she actually wanted to be here. However, she had a feeling that Toofy wouldn't let her off that easily. The empress would probably punish her mildly, and make her come back and try again.

She bounced to her feet and snarled, fur going on end. She held out a hand sizing him up, and running the calculations. He leaned on his warhammer, and yawned.

A small hole ripped open beneath the hammer, which appeared above his head and dropped it directly onto his head.

He swayed, stunned but not down.

"Not bad." Someone said tiredly from nearby, clapping politely. They emerged from a shadow and sent the tauran lumbering away and still shaking his head with a single raise of their chin.

Millie let out a deferential purr as she recognised the catgirl.

Crown Princess Artema, Captain of the Royal Guard, smiled at her, eyeing her up and down. The catgirl wasn't just famous because she was a royal. She might be the toughest fighter that the guards had to offer, even though she had no magic to speak of.

The halfhuman woman clicked her tongue and turned around, "Follow me. The entrance is at the top of the tower. We'll climb up, and then back down. Keep your hands to yourself, or someone will cut them off."

Millie whined.

Artema chuckled, "Mother always has the strangest ideas. Artema could bring him out, kicking and screaming. No idea why she wants you, kitten. And sorry, but you are a fucking kitten. Have you ever even been in a fight?"

"N-no." She answered timidly, "The Millie runs away."

"That portal thing was impressive. Could be useful. How long can you hold it for?" Artema asked curiously.

Millie shrugged, "She doesn't have much magic... A few seconds. Takes her a long time to do it, again."

"How about distance?"

"Anywhere the Millie has been before." She whispered.

The warrior nodded, "So a kind of mark and recall spell, then? She could use that."

"The Millie can't go through it. Has to stay to keep it open."

Artema frowned, "Still useful, but less."

The two entered the wizard's tower, and Millie relaxed as the smell of parchment encompassed her. The guards were everywhere, making climbing the steps hazardous because apparently the elf who made it hadn't believed in banisters.

Millie had to leap several times when someone unexpectedly turned around. The entire time Artema kept looking at her with her one blue eye, and one golden eye. The warrior assessing the more timid catgirl.

The archivist took in the scrolls and books as they climbed. Categorising the scraps she saw, habitually. Most of the research seemed to be based on Elatham's death magic. Experiments carried out on prisoners of war from the nekan tribes.

"Is L a neko, too?" She asked curiously.

Artema shrugged, "Don't quite smell like one, but... Well, you'll see. We don't know what he is, exactly. He hasn't spoken yet, either. So even getting a word out of him will be a breakthrough."

Millie's ears went flat. She didn't like surprises, but the warrior didn't seem interested in explaining anything at all. She was very unlike her mother who seemed to want to discuss and learn everything. Though, Artema was young, still. Only recently come of age.

Technically, Millie would be ten years her senior. However, Artema felt like a very old soul. She made Millie think of war, with every movement and scent. This woman smelled like a battlefield, even though she had been born on the day that Toofy had taken the throne.

She might have grown up during the civil war, but it hadn't been much of a war. Why did Artema smell like a valkyrie when she had never lived through a true war?

Millie found it odd... And disturbing.

They emerged onto the roof. A royal guard passed a blue gemstone to Artema, who tapped it to the roof and then lifted it. There was no chanting or special words as a stench rose up from the ground with the stone, and Millie clapped her hands over her nose.

Artema tucked the stone away, and walked back to the stairs. The archivist followed her unwillingly, tail dragging behind her on the ground. The horrible smell got worse as they entered.

The warrior sighed, "See what the Artema meant? Smelling out L under all this shit is ridiculous. Only some of the smell is from the mages that we killed. That room over there, was used as a storehouse for prisoner poop. The mages examined it to track the health of their subjects. Then burned it. Feral."

Millie nodded slowly, her eyes watering as she wondered why the princess could stand to breathe in it.

The woman pointed out another room, "Organ harvesting was done in there. Measuring differences in sizes. Some things shrank, some things grew. Fucking bastards. Butchering people."

The archivist whined, already feeling terrified.

"The main scent, though... That's their magic." Artema spat on the ground, "Trying to unlock necromancy. Without the usual side effects. They were trying to recreate arachne magic here, and failing. Mostly just turning innocent people into przekleta bestia."

Millie nodded, feeling her eyes beginning to glow as they got deeper. The torches lining the walls seemed less effective, the light barely extending a fingerspan from the flickering flames.

Artema paused, gesturing for her to stop, "L's down here. He's not contained, but doesn't want to leave. He's seen us... Which is why you can't see shit. Even neko eyes don't seem to see through it. Can you smell him? Something... Unusual... Under all the other shit."

Millie shook her head. She couldn't smell anything at all under all the horrifying smells filling her nostrils and making her want to throw up. She even wanted to take a bath, right now.

The warrior sat on the step, "Well. You do your thing. I'll step in if I think he's going to hurt you."

The catgirl cringed and walked down a few more steps and instantly found herself completely blind. She thought desperately, trying to figure out why Toofy had chosen her for this.

She didn't know how many more steps there were, but L obviously thought she was close enough. Which meant that he could either see her, or had a sense of smell that was as fine as hers but was used to the stench. He could also be using hearing, possibly.

She sat down where she was, demonstrating her acceptance of his limits. She habitually pushed up her glasses, even though she couldn't see.

Millie cried out in fright as she briefly felt hands on her head, and her glasses were gone. She heard Artema launch to her feet, but she held up a hand, "Wait. He's just curious."

The archivist smiled as charmingly as she could whilst shaking in terror, "They're called glasses. Stupid obvious name. The Millie was born with bad eyes. They help her see. The glass is ground, so the top half lets her see long distances, and the bottom helps her see things that are close."

"Lie." A deep voice boomed out around her.

She flinched, "N-no. They w-will be blurry unless you h-have eyes l-like the M-mmillie."

"I... I see like you, through these?"

He'd made that intuitive leap impressively quickly. "N-not quite. But close."

She flinched as rough hands shoved her glasses back into her hands. The deep voice booming again, "Sorry. Shouldn't have taken them. You need them."

She slipped them back on, "Is... Is th-there ssssomething you n-need?"

"Not anymore." The voice growled from all sides, "They fixed me. I won't fix you. Never. No one should ever be fixed. It was... Wrong."

Millie smiled sadly, "Don't know what they did to him. But had to stop it. It will take long time to learn. But the Millie is sorry it happened."

"You didn't do this to me."

She lowered her eyes, "They hid reports in Millie's archives. If she had found them earlier..."

"You read? A blind librarian?" He burst out laughing.

Millie gave a timid little smile, "She reads all the books! Magic, philosophy, numbers. Fake worlds and real worlds. Millie will read it all, one day. She loves the worlds of books."

"Books... Make you... Happy?"

She noticed her tail had sprung up, and nodded. "Mmm. She loves her books. Takes care of them."

"Do you... Have a... Favourite?"

"Hard, hard question." She frowned, "Millie would have to say... Mythology. The stories of the gods. There are many versions, telling the story with new meanings, but the stories remain. Not sure which story is her favourite."

He went silent for so long she felt like her little leeway had expired, when the shadows around her started to draw back, and she found herself looking into a round room, the walls lined with bookcases.

A strange shadowy blob remained, sitting on top of one of the bookshelves.

Millie looked around curiously, "Do you have favourite?"

"Not these." He replied, voice no longer a terrifying shout. "These... These are how they fixed me."

"May the Millie, read?"

"Must read."

She moved very slowly over to a shelf on the other side of the room to him. Opening a book with a cracked red spine and finding a spidery handwritten set of notes inside.

She frowned, "High elven. Difficult language to master... Millie doesn't know it that well... Oh. Oh shit. Elatham wrote this."

"You know the Maker?" The voice asked in awe, "It has been a long time since he visited."

Millie winced, not knowing if she should tell him. She knew that deceit was a bad idea, but he seemed to idolise the traitorous elf. She took a deep breath and made a best guess. "He died when the Millie was young. He tried to hurt her mother, steal her magic. Her father ended him."

"F-free? I'm free?"

She looked over to see a smudged and stained face peeking out of the shadows. The man was definitely timid, but he wasn't what she expected, either. Broken, aged, but... Human. A human with magic that dwarfed her own.

She doubted that the empress would ever let this one out of her sight. If freedom was what he wanted, she didn't see it happening. Her ears flattened and she took a glance towards Artema, measuring the distances between the three of them.

The catgirl sniffed and pushed up the gold rims, "What is his name?"

"I had a name... Before... Don't remember it anymore..." The man said, and sighed heavily, "The Maker is gone... But I'm not free, am I? They fixed me. So everyone sees me the same way."

Millie wanted to his at the thought that anybody could be nothing but a mere experiment. Toofy wouldn't see him that way... But the empress would still use him. Like she used everyone, from those she loved to those she hated.

The empress had no choice, she played on the world stage, above it all. If she stopped to show a one-sided kindness then she'd probably be dead before the day was out. That cat played with gods, demons and assassins.

However, Millie was just a librarian.

She wanted... She wasn't sure what she wanted. Something about showing her toys to this man. She thought he would find them fascinating and fun. Which is...