The Last Library

Before he could respond, Mera turned and walked away.

***

Mera proved to be true to her word. For what Ashur could only assume were the next few days, she provided food and additional water at seemingly regular intervals. The lump behind his ear receded and the cut from his fall closed quickly although Ashur wasn't certain that it hadn't become a bit infected.

He mentioned this to Mera during one of her delivery visits and she soon returned with a salve that smelled bitter until he rubbed it onto the cut at which point he could just make out a floral scent.

For the first "day" or so, he found himself sleeping often and for long periods of time. He had learned early on from an old sergeant that you rested when you could in the army because you never knew when your next nap would be.

Unfortunately, once his body had decided that he was rested enough, he found it harder and harder to sleep. Using his finger in the soft loam, he played puzzles with himself and chuckled that he never lost. He made marks in the dirt at each meal to help him track time. Finally, when he could stand the boredom no longer, he confronted Mera about his internment.

She had been quiet and subdued since her explanation. Having lost many friends and family members to the various skirmishes and wars that were commonplace across the land, he sympathized with her loss. Others in his various platoons had been lost to memories and fallen into similar depressions. However, with each new "day" his empathy waned; replaced by boredom and then frustration. He confronted her during one of her deliveries.

"As much as I enjoy having my breakfast catered, I'm starting to go a little crazy from staring at the same walls. Have you made a decision yet?"

Mera briefly shied away from his question but recovered quickly.

"No," she said. "I haven't." Not giving him a chance to push the issue, she turned and walked hurriedly away.

Trying to be diplomatic, he continued to question her with every meeting, however his patience, already thin from prolonged incarceration, snapped two days later.

As his captor approached with his next meal, he slammed his fist against the invisible wall; startling Mera enough to drop the food.

"It's been days! Why are you keeping me here? Am I a prisoner or just something you don't want to look at! Either let me go or kill me but make up your fucking mind!" He punctuated each syllable with a fist to the wall. His bare chest heaved with his anger and a slight sheen of sweat had developed from his exertions.

Mera stood frozen in shock and then, tearing her eyes away from the unexpectedly angry man, looked down at the mess on her feet and ground. Her blue eyes flashed red and she stepped up to the barrier in front of him. This close, he could see that the top of her head came just up to his chin.

She glared at him and her own chest started to rise and fall rapidly with heavy breaths. This was the closest she had ever been to him and he was slightly startled to realize that he could actually smell her through the magic that held him prisoner. The aroma was very close to the salve she had given him for his head wound.

"Listen, you great oaf! It's not my fault that you landed down here, but now I have to figure what to do with you! Do I wipe your memories and leave you a mindless husk? Do I send you to the other side of the world? Or would you simply have me drain the life from your body?"

With her last question, she took a step back and looked him up and down again as if to emphasize her point. Ashur could tell she was trying to be condescending and sneer, but her look stuttered a bit as she realized just how close she was. He caught another purple flush as she stepped another pace away. Mera was still breathing hard, but her eyes and skin were flashing between shades of red and purple so fast that Ashur had to stare at her dress to keep his eyes from hurting.

Unfortunately, this meant that he just happened to be staring right at her breasts when her gaze shifted back to his face. After one more purple flash, the red came back and stayed. She stomped her foot and huffed away, but just before she drew out of sight, Ashur saw her shading turn purple and then a soft pink.

Several hours later, she marched back into the small stone area in front of his cell.

"Can you read?" she demanded.

Glaring at her from his seat against the back wall, he rumbled, "Of course I can read. What kind of dimwit do you take me for?"

Mera seemed about to give a sharp reply but stopped herself and left the room again. She was back soon, however, with several books in her hands. She pushed the stack through the barrier and laid it gently on the soft dirt floor. The look she gave him was much softer than it had been during their fight.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the books. "This isn't fair to you and I'm sorry."

She leaned her head forward and rested her forehead against the barrier.

"Before Eshava gave herself to the protection of this place, she cast a prediction in order to determine if it would survive. Part of the prediction told her that, when the dust settled, I would be waiting alone. When I asked her for how long, she shrugged and told me that I would stand guard until someone unburdened by the angers of the world would come.

"When I found you, I thought that my wait was over, but it's not. You have seen several decades and are obviously a soldier. I cannot see that you match Eshava's prediction and so my vigil must continue."

Ashur moved from his place against the wall and slowly approached the despairing woman. His previous anger had also burned itself out in the fight and he could see how much Mera was hurting.

"Look," he muttered," I'm sorry not to be the fresh-faced stripling that you were expecting, and I can't imagine what it must be like to be alone for as long as you have."

Ashur let loose of a long sigh of his own.

"Like you, I've seen friends die one by one or by wholesale slaughter. Hell...," he admitted with a chuckle, "I've been on the giving end of that too. I've lost track of the deaths I've brought about both on the battle-field and off and I've even started to forget their faces as more pile up."

Feeling a sudden connection with this eternal watcher, he raised his hand and placed it on the barrier where her head rested against it.

"To be quite honest, I'm tired. Tired of the killing and the fighting. I've been doing it for most of my adult life and it never seems to end up there."

He looked at the ceiling as though he could see through the unknown amount of earth that separated him from the open air and pointed as if to the various conflicts and people caught up in them.

"It always seems as though there is war after war. We heal up from one just in time to fight another. Whether it's for power or resources, it never ends...though I wish it would."

Ashur turned his body to lay down. Strangely, his arm extended so that his hand remained in place as though touching her head.

"Do you know, I can't even remember being a young man? At some point he was washed away in all the blood and now, try as I might, I don't even recall when that was.

"I'm one of the oldest in my company and should have been an instructor by now, but I just can't seem to stay in the background and watch younger men go off to battle without being there to help them survive.

"I'm sorry for what you have been through, Mera, and to be honest, the rest has done my body some good. However, the uncertainty and boredom will probably drive me mad soon enough.

"I've seen others go through what you are experiencing and I can tell you that you can only let yourself be caught up in it for so long before it becomes who you are and you never recover. Please find a way to snap out of this and make a decision where I'm concerned before too much longer."

He closed his eyes and might have drifted off to sleep had he not felt a change under the hand that still rested above him. Suddenly, the barrier was gone and he felt silky hair beneath his fingers.

Apparently, Mera had not seen where his hand had been and was as startled as he by the contact. She started to jerk away, but something deep inside her that had not felt another person's touch in an eternity made her stop. Her body seemed braced to move away and defend herself if necessary, but her neck stretched minutely to push her head further into his hand.

For several seconds they stayed that way until, with a small turn of her head, she moved away from him and stood. Stepping back, Mera stretched her arm away from his cell; inviting him out of it and onto the stone floor. Ashur felt he knew her well enough at this point that a trap of some kind wouldn't show itself, so he picked up the seemingly forgotten books, rose, and took a tentative step forward trying not to crowd the lonely woman in the small space. That proved unnecessary as she walked away from him as soon as he started to move.

Confused now, Ashur made to follow her, but started as he heard a rustling sound behind him. He was astonished and slightly frightened to see the dirt cave that had been his cell suddenly filling in and collapsing. It was hard not to imagine what that might have felt like had Mera decided to solve her problem with his demise.

He watched for a few more seconds before turning to follow her. As he caught up, he saw that she had stopped and turned to wait for him.

"This is a Library, not a prison," she commented sardonically. "We don't exactly have a dungeon to keep criminals in."

The hallway she led him down was only thirty or so feet long with an open wooden door at the end.

Waving the soldier through, Mera closed the door behind herself, turned, and moved a dial that had been set in the wall near the handle. She dismissed his curious glance with another wave of her hand and motioned him to look around.

What Ashur saw nearly drove him back against the wall. They were on a walkway high above a floor that he could only hope was somewhere below. Silver metal railings ran along the path as it stretched out into the empty space before them. Mera gave a small laugh at his reaction and began purposefully striding away; daring him to follow.

Ashur had never thought of himself as one with a fear of heights, but the vast expanse below him made him start to question that. Squaring his shoulders, he followed the azure woman; slowly at first, but with longer strides as his confidence grew. Soon he had caught up with her.

"I thought this was a library," he said, gesturing at the hazy empty space. "Where are all the books?"

Mera looked over her shoulder at him and gave a sharp laugh.

"Just wait, barbarian. You'll see." Her own comment seemed to remind her of something, and she came to an abrupt halt. She tilted her head as though trying to remember something, then turned on him.

"What actually is your name?" she asked.

It was his turn to bark a laugh as he told her. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then continued down the walkway.

Looking around, Ashur was afraid that they would be walking for a long time, but only a few moments passed before he could see a circular platform in front of them. No more than eight or nine feet in diameter and bordered by the railing, it held a lectern of some sort in the middle.

Mera approached the lectern and, ushering him closer, laid her hand upon it. Abruptly, the walkway they had just come from vanished and a section of the railing replaced the opening where it had been. The soldier felt movement of some sort, but it wasn't enough to make him feel as though he needed to hold onto something which was a small pity. His escort had brought him to within arm's length of her and the faint floral scent was starting to do things to his body.

Mera looked at him oddly then turned back to the lectern. Wondering if he had somehow given his mildly lustful reaction away, he shifted his weight in the opposite direction in case he had inadvertently leaned in toward her. He was pleasantly surprised to note that she shifted with him.

"I can feel that we're moving, but where are we going?" he asked. The fog around them did not change or shift to indicate progress of any sort.

Waving him to silence, Mera's expression was that of concentration. Without moving her head, she explained, "It's been a long time since I've been out this far and need to remember the way back."

Ashur promptly tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible to let the woman concentrate. Since there was nothing beyond the platform that he could focus on, he turned his attention to her. Even though he could not feel any sort of breeze, small strands of her hair seemed to float about as though blown by an inexplicable wind. It fascinated him to see that the movements changed from time to time giving him the impression that the platform had altered direction somehow. Unknowingly, his hand rose to her back without touching her and he let the fine threads waft and curl around his fingers.

There was no way she could have felt the interaction, but she raised a hand up in his direction anyway.

"Stop it. Hold Still."

Her voice was mostly consternated at his distracting actions, but there was an undercurrent of amusement as well. Her skin had taken a hint of the pink color again. Ashur returned his hand to his side and assumed a sort of parade rest.

Eventually, the sense of movement slowed, then stopped. Mera looked up at him with a small smile and pointed behind him. Frowning in confusion, he turned to follow her finger. Behind him stretched vast shelves of books, scrolls, and papers. The rows went on so far that the shelves themselves seemed to come together in the distance.

He felt Mera brush by him and started to follow her. Looking back for the platform, he saw that it had become the center of a large atrium and more bookcases stretched past it. Shaking his head in wonder, he strode to catch up to the blue caretaker of this wonderous place.

Ashur had never been much of a reader. He had enjoyed stories told by his parents and friends but could never lose himself in a book. Gawping around like a country farmer in the city, he felt more than a little out of place.

As Mera led him deeper into the rows, he found he could see marking at the ends of certain shelves. He assumed these denoted the contents of the bookcase, but had no idea of the language they were made in. This understanding made him realize that, without his guide, he would soon be lost forever in here and quickened his pace to draw closer to her. She must have heard his footstep speed up because he saw her shoulders shake in a quiet laugh.

He was still bumpkin gazing when he realized that she had stopped and very nearly ran into her. With an awkward twist and stumble he managed not to plow her over but could feel something in his low back protest. His impromptu acrobatics ended up with him leaning to one side and spinning on the ball of his foot. He came to a stop in a hunched position in front of her and looked up to see laughter in her eyes and on her lips. In that moment, he found her extremely attractive. Straightening up, he did his best to mentally stop a different sort of straightening that she would be sure to see since he was still only clad in his shorts.

Her eyes went wide and her blue face flushed purple while the centers of her irises turn a deep pink. He was starting to think that the purple meant she was blushing, but still hadn't put his finger on what pink symbolized. Either way, he still didn't know what had caused her flushing reaction. He knew that his equipment hadn't even come close to gaining any length and he was absolutely certain that his face hadn't betrayed his thoughts since the pain in his low back had still been showing.

Bowing deeply despite his pain, he brought his arms out to his sides.

"For your entertainment, madam," he quipped with a grin in his best norther noble accent. Her smile was that of someone genuinely pleased and he noted that her skin tone had softened to that of a bluebell flower.

With his antics concluded, he glanced around to see why she had stopped in the first place. His brows furrowed as he looked back and forth between Mera and what appeared to be the same platform they had arrived in. He was about to ask about it when he saw that there were markings on this one that had been absent on the last.

Looking a question at his guide, Ashur moved onto the dais at her nod. He studied the designs on the floor. At least he would have something to look at for this trip. Mera stepped up, placed her hand on the lectern, then pushed downward. Rather than disappearing into another foggy unknown, the platform began to sink noiselessly into the floor.

As it dropped down, Mera looked up at him with a wry smile.

"You were expecting more time to play with my hair?"

He raised an eyebrow at her question and her smile twisted a little more. Giving up, he looked up at the walls of the shaft they were traveling down which were very smooth; perhaps some sort of marble. At regular intervals, arched doorways opened out into more rows of bookcases. Ashur knew from Mera's story that this was a wonder of magic and architecture, but there was simply no way to reconcile the difference between the unending height of the rooms on the other side of the doors and the space between them in the walls.

Resigning himself to not understanding the mystery, he turned back to Mera who had been watching him through all of this. He gave her a lopsided grin and was about to return his attention to the markings on the floor when the platform stopped. To his left was another doorway, but rather than revealing yet another impossible room lined with bookcases, he saw what almost looked like a regular room.

At Mera's gesture, he stepped through the doorway and took in his new surroundings. The room was a large foyer with two statues of some sort of four-legged beasts that he had no name for and could not attribute to any animal he had ever heard of or seen. One was a brilliant white while the other was so black that it looked like a hole into the night sky. Paintings and other decorations adorned the walls and though they reminded him of a noble's house, they were also somewhat alien to him.

The room had three other doorways which gave Ashur the impression that this room was less of a foyer and more of a junction. He was used to such rooms only having one or two entrances; usually one to a sitting room and the other to the rest of the house.

Mera tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention and beckoned him to the doorway directly across from the shaft. He stepped aside to let her go first and followed her into the next chamber.

In contrast to the opulence of the foyer junction, the next room was homey. Ashur had stepped from a mansion to a farmer's cottage if not as small. This room was twice as large as the foyer, but the walls were a soft white as opposed to the foyer's immaculate ivory.

To his right was a simple gathering room with a low couch and several stuffed chairs; one of which made him think of the seat that Mera had conjured outside of his cell.

Turning to his left, could see counters and a kitchen with many utensils and lots of counter space, but the actual area was much smaller than he had originally guessed at first glance. He took a step closer and realized that it had not been used in some time.

Mera moved away from him toward the back of the room. He followed and could see several more doors. Moving in front of one, Mera opened it to reveal a toilet area however it was unlike any that Ashur had ever seen. Everything was made of porcelain. There was a bath large enough for even his frame, but he was unsure of the brass tubing that came out of the wall several feet above one end of it.