Chapter 10

Tara sat in the secluded silence of the town's miniature excuse for an Arcanus library.  The room had no windows because it was underground directly below the basement of the official town library.  In order for anyone to access these secret archives they had to know where the concrete slab was that acted like a trapdoor, and how to undo the runic seals that kept the heavy door magically shut.  If a person was fortunate enough to possess such knowledge then they had to have a great deal of strength to be able to slide the concrete slab into its recessed housing behind the wall. Tara did not have the physical stature capable of moving such a heavy object nor was she permitted to use the type of magic that would allow her to accomplish the feat, but she did know where Elder Viasa kept the illusionary book meant to be a smaller replica of the cement slab.

        The book was actually a flat piece of cement painted to blend in with all the other books, and had a minor illusion dweomer to enhance its disguise.  The true purpose of the replica was that any spellcaster with even a fraction of talent could attach its magical tethers to the larger version of itself and when they slid to the side the smaller cement slab the larger one would move as well.  It was simple, basic, and very useful to know.

        Once the door was open you had to climb down a hole with metal wrungs that were mounted into the side of the wall, fifty of them to be exact, and hope that someone was kind enough to have left the step ladder near enough to use so you didn't have to drop to the floor when you reached the ceiling of the hidden annex.  The manhole was located in the center of the annex's ceiling and there was a yellow and green fiberglass eight foot step ladder that was usually left right below it so you didn't have to worry about dropping down to the floor and taking the risk of twisting an ankle.  The room itself was only a couple of inches higher than the ladder and was roughly a twenty foot square.  The walls, floor and ceiling were also made of cement, but where the above slab looked as though it were professionally made, the annex was created with varying degrees of cement and gave it a patchwork appearance.

        Within the secret room the walls were packed full of books and scrolls that rested on wooden shelves that were kept in good repair.  With the lack of frequent visitors to this mini archive Tara was surprised there wasn't more dust, and could only assume that Elder Viasa came down here periodically in addition to her other librarian duties and ensured its cleanliness.  Tara pitied the older woman and imagined the occasional trip down into the depths of this place must've been very difficult on her ancient body. 

        Under normal circumstance the room would probably be a little chilly, but recently, a few years ago, someone had the idea of modernizing the place a little bit by including two power junction boxes to either side of the manhole and attached a light socket and an electrical outlet to both them.  Plugged into one of the outlets was a portable heater that made a constant whirr as it blew warm air across Tara's legs and mid section.

        She sat at a solid wooden round table that rocked slightly whenever she put the weight of her elbows on it.  The chair she occupied was as solid and stiff as the table and also had a complimentary rock, but the seat cushions that were hand sewn helped to make it bearable.  In front of Tara on one half of the table were several thick tomes stacked at various heights, all of which looked old, worn, and were showing more than a few damaged spots.  On the other side of the table were a bunch of scroll cases, some of which had their contents dumped out and others that had books on them as paper weights so that they would lay flat.

        Currently Tara was in the process of translating a tome printed in ancient Latin.  It was written by a scholar that recorded the dictated words of a long ago spirit that claimed to be the remnant of a forgotten Mage.  In the beginning of the book the Mage tried to illicit sympathy from the reader by describing its plight and how it was cursed to forever remain trapped between life and death, but as the scholar tried to delve deeper to discover why the Mage had gotten cursed in such a fashion it very skillfully dodged answering the question directly.  The scholar attempted a few other times throughout the tome to uncover the Mage's shady past, but all of his attempts were rewarded by vague hints and clues that in order to solve them required more resources than Tara had available to her.

        All of that was just an interesting back story.  What attracted Tara to the tome originally were the unbelievable claims the spirit made about the origins of were-creatures and how they were created as weapons against vampires in some forgotten war.  The Mage insisted that Earth had an alternate history that had somehow been covered up and so thoroughly erased that anyone who read the tome would have to believe that the spirit was deranged and making up stories for its own entertainment.  But there were handful of people who considered the possibility that what was written in the tome held more truth than fiction, and some of these well renowned individuals to this day still struggled to gather proof to convince others of the possibility that past wasn't what they believed it to be.

        The entire concept was a bit too much for Tara to swallow, and she found it to be too far fetched.  The idea that someone could control that much power and convince an entire world that the past wasn't reality was inconceivable. No one in existence had that capability, and if anyone ever had, they would have left permanent scars in the magical aether as proof.  Aside from that possibility she also doubted that there was enough magic in existence, even if all the spellcaster in the world by some miracle were working together, to pull off such a feat.

        Tara hated how slow the reading was going as she was translating it, and finally , giving up, closed the book.  She was trying hard to find any information related to were-creatures, and in particular werewolves.  The best thing she had found was a reference to something called the Sand Scrolls.  They were supposedly written by a desert nomad that had the misfortune of getting attacked by a werejackal.  Somehow he had managed to survive the onslaught, but not without getting himself bitten and contracting the were virus.

        Not all weres had the rare ability to pass on the virus through their bite. The fact was that very few weres were able to infect people simply by biting them and the few that demonstrated such ability were closely watched by the Arcanus to make sure that they didn't abuse their power.  If they did get out of hand then The Knights of Merlin were quick to respond, and they made sure that the possibility of it happening would never occur again.

        The Sand Scrolls were the nomad's personal records of his struggles to adapt to the incredible changes his body experienced.  His situation was similar to Sean's in that he had no one to guide him through the complicated trials he had to endure by himself.  Tara had never read the scrolls herself but she did hear that the nameless nomad eventually found a way to balance his life with his inner animal and the man that he was. 

        Now Tara was patiently waiting for Elder Viasa to confirm that there was a copy of the Sand Scrolls in another much larger and complete Arcanus archive.  It had been nearly an hour since the old woman had climbed back up the manhole to contact her network of librarians around the world, and Tara was beginning to think that perhaps she didn't want to risk making the climb back down.

        No one knew for sure how old Viasa was and most people that knew her assumed she was a little over a thousand years old, but no one was willing to spend enough time with her because she seldom made sense to most people.  She often mumbled crazy things to herself as though she were carrying on a nonsensical conversation with some imaginary person.  Tara was unusual in that she found Elder Viasa to be a complicated enigma and strived to go beyond what anyone else was willing to do in order to understand her.  It took Tara five years of persistently trying to befriend Elder Viasa before she was willing to risk being open with the young Wizard.

        Every elder of Tara's community knew that Viasa was a reputable Divinator, but the problem was getting her to talk sense long enough to find out what you needed to know.  Tara spent more time with Elder Viasa than was necessary for her training, because she wanted to learn how to become as good at divination as she was.  In addition Elder Viasa was a living wealth of knowledge and once Tara was able to make sense of some of the gibberish she constantly talked about it was like discovering the most priceless treasure in the world.

        Viasa had such an unprecedented talent for divination that she was constantly seeing the alternate timelines that were created with the infinite number of decisions that were made every day for the past thousand years.  Tara came to understand that the reason Viasa seemed so insane to everyone else was because she had a difficult time realizing what timeline she was actually living on.  Tara brushed up on her history and memorized key events to remind Elder Viasa where and when she was.  Once she accomplished that Viasa praised Tara like she was her savior.

        Everyone thought the young Wizard had caught a bit of the mental illness that inflicted Viasa, and neither one of them bothered to correct their ignorance.  It was too much fun listening to Viasa tell her all the embarrassing secrets of the people that mistreated her until she was able to make Tara laugh.  Listening to that sound was actually one of the only things that made Viasa smile, and she always told Tara that she needed to laugh more, because nothing was better for the soul.

        Tara quietly mused over her past and the many lessons she learned from Viasa.  She was so caught up in her memories that she almost didn't hear the sound of Viasa's shoes scuffing against the metal wrungs as she came out of the manhole in the ceiling.  Tara leapt up from her chair and hurried over to the step ladder to help steady it before she stepped off the last wrung.

        "You needn't worry about me child," Viasa assured her. "Trust me.  I'll know well before you do if I'm going to fall or not, and if I was, you wouldn't have even seen me climb down here.  Rather I'd call down to you to come back up."

        "You're right, I know.  I just reacted once I heard you."

        Viasa chuckled, a warm friendly sound for an old lady and said, "The sentiment is appreciated.  It's a good sign for the kind of person you are." She froze midway down the step ladder and stared straight ahead with wide eyes.  It was a look that Tara was familiar with and she knew that Elder Viasa was looking deeper into the many distant alternate realities. "I think I'd be worried if you didn't get up to help me," she said as she slowly turned her head to look down at Tara.

        Tara looked into Viasa's freakish eyes without the discomfort so many others had shown.  Viasa's eyes were strange and unsettling for everyone to see. The left one had a wide black iris and a milky white pupil that was similar to a severe case of cataracts.  The right one was almost entirely covered in a sickly milky white appearance with the exception of a small black dot slightly bigger than a pin hole right in the center where her pupil should be.  Viasa had told her long ago, cutting Tara off before she could even ask the question, that she didn't know exactly when her eyes had changed in appearance, but she did believe it happened because of how she constantly saw backwards and forwards through time, and reality.  It boggled Tara's mind how the woman could do it so easily whenever she wanted and to process everything that she saw.

        "Tsk, tsk, Elder Viasa," Tara teased. "You're not setti..."

        "...setting a very good example for you?  Yes, yes, I know.  Never gaze into the future without both your feet planted on the ground; otherwise you could fall from the disorientation after you regained your senses."

        In Viasa's typical bizarre fashion she wore brown leather moccasins, red baggy sweat pants with a long skirt made of a see through black lacy material, and an old medieval white shirt with ruffles on the cuffs and halfway down the front.  One time Tara asked her why she constantly dressed in such mismatched clothing and it turned out she gazed into the future to see how it would be affected by what she wore that day, and sometimes she got so caught up in it that she completely lost track of what she looked like in the end.  In fact she didn't even realize what she was wearing until Tara had pointed it out to her.

        Viasa finished climbing down and kept her head bent looking at the ground while muttering, "I can't believe you'd say I was ugly."

        "I didn't," Tara responded not feeling the least bit phased by her comment.

        "You didn't?" Viasa said lifting her head with a surprised look for Tara.

        Tara just smiled at her friend knowing that her mind had been momentarily caught up in a different world.

        "Oh, sorry about that," Viasa said as she started to move away from the ladder and make her way toward one of the corners of the room. "I was getting you confused with a different you."

        "I can't believe I would ever say something so mean to you."

        "Ha!  That's tame compared to some of the other things I've heard you say."

        Viasa picked up a clear quartz cluster that was resting on one of the middle shelves and turned to walk back across the small room to the table where she intended on setting it down.  The cluster was set in some kind of special stone that Tara had not yet been able to identify, and was roughly carved out in the shape of a six inch square.  The crystals on top were all completely formed with terminated ends and shot up in different directions, none of which were more than an inch or two long.  In the center there was one larger crystal that stood straight up and was three to four times larger than all the others.  Tara had never seen the device used before but she did hear it was meant for transferring documents from one archive to another.

        "But I haven't.," Tara started to say, before Viasa cut her off again.

        "No!  Not you!  A different version of you.  Don't worry your pretty little head about the 'what ifs' and the 'have beens', you're not ready for that yet.  One day perhaps, but not until your much older; maybe when you're half my age."

        "Five hundred?"

        "No, a little less than twice that, deary."

        "A Thousand?!  But that would mean you're about two thousand years old?!"

        "Shh!  Shhhhh.  Not so loud.  I don't want anyone else to know that."

        Viasa hurriedly put the quartz cluster down on the table and strode back to the manhole where she shouted up in an old lady's reprimanding tone. "You're a sniveling winy tattletaler, incapable of ever amounting to anything!  When you're dead and gone no one will ever remember you!"

        Viasa paused for a moment still looking up the hole in the ceiling searching for some kind of response.  Tara waited patiently for her ancient friend to be done with whatever it was she was doing, and hoped that she hadn't betrayed something that Viasa wanted to keep a secret.

        "You're coming up on your one-hundredth birthday, aren't you?!" Viasa continued her shouting. "I do believe that'll make you the world's oldest virgin!" She waited a moment later then turned back to Tara. "He's not up there yet, if he was that would've gotten a response from him."

        "Who?"

        "Bannon," Viasa said, matter of factly.

        "Oh, no.  Is he supposed to come here?" Tara squinted her eyes and made a face of disgust. "He's so gross."

        "Some time soon, within the next half hour," the old woman answered.

        While they talked, Viasa lightly touched specific crystal at the base of the larger one.  As she did so the larger crystal gradually began to glow with a soft ambience.  Viasa reached across the table and grabbed one of the scroll cases she had brought down earlier, slid the cover open, and dumped out several sheets of papyrus.  They had been in the scroll case long enough to retain its rolled up shape even after it was removed from the case.

        Viasa instructed Tara to take one sheet at a time and to hold it open, flat on the table.  Viasa fiddled around with a few of the smaller crystals on the edges of the enchanted device and the ambience around the larger crystal began to focus its light like a spotlight onto the papyrus.  As the light intensified the curled up corners flattened themselves and then Egyptian writing began to appear as if it were getting burned.  After the first sheet was copied Viasa told her that she didn't need to continue holding the copies in place to keep them flat, the light would do that.

        There were at least seventy-five pages that needed to be copied before Tara could have the complete set of Sand Scrolls.  As the time ticked by she grew more and more uncomfortable that she would still be there when Bannon arrived.

        "We can continue this upstairs, right?â€� she asked Viasa. “So why don't we go ahead and leave then.  I don't want to be around here when he shows up."

        "Really?  I can't imagine why not.  He's such a ladies man." Tara recognized that Viasa was trying to be sarcastic.  It was something that was lost on everyone else because they always thought that anything weird she said was just more of her crazy babbling.

        "Are you kidding me?!" Tara exclaimed. "He's got greasy hair, that's too long in some places so he can sweep it over the top of his head in some vain attempt to hide his bald spot.  He's allergic to bathing himself in any consistent manner, never has anything nice to say to anyone, and practices necromancy.  I can only imagine what sort of dark, disgusting things he involves himself with that art.  I can't believe the elders have allowed him to practice magic as long as he has.  He's just a nasty, ugly excuse for a human being."

        "There's the 'ugly' word I thought I heard before.  Ha!" Viasa fired off a sharp laugh. "It's funny, because you just couldn't leave here before you said it.  I don't know why though." She looked at Tara with that same wide eyed look, seeing things that only she could see. "Weird, isn't it?"

        "Come on Elder Viasa, let's get out of here."

        "No, I can’t.  It’s necessary that I meet with the Necromancer, so that things will fall into place for you latter.  What did I tell you before about calling me by that title?" Viasa chastised, switching topics so fast that Tara needed a second to adjust. "I told you to dispense with that and to just call me by my name.  That's the proper way for friends to address each other, is it not?"

        "But you're an Elder as well as one of my teachers."

        "I'm not your teacher any longer.  I've already taught you everything I can. The rest is stuff you can only learn on your own, and it'll take time and wisdom to develop."

        Tara started to open her mouth to say something, but Viasa continued on talking. "Before you say what you're going to say next, I could care less what everyone else thinks of me, because they just don't matter.  Not like you do."

        Tara blinked and was taken aback by Viasa's last comment.  She considered it a flattering compliment for what she believed was the world's most amazing Divinator to say that she thought of her as a friend.  But, it was also the way she said it and it made Tara think that perhaps Viasa saw something important that mattered in her future.

        "You really shouldn't leave until you've got a copy of the Sand Scrolls to take with you," Viasa said in the midst of Tara's reflection. "Your friend Sean is going to need them.  In fact it may even be critical to his survival."

        "Sean?" Tara asked in confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

        "Your little werewolf friend, and no I'm not going to tell anyone about him, or Chris for that matter, so relax.  What did I say his name was again?"

        "You said, Sean," Tara repeated, feeling a little numb while her brain digested the information.

        "That's right.  You still only know him by his false name, but that's okay. You were going to find out soon enough, so it doesn't make a big difference if you know it now."

        "Why has he lied about his name?  What else can you tell me about him?" Tara asked trying to seize upon this opportunity to find out more.  They only had ten more pages to finish at this point and she was finding it difficult to not get distracted from their methodical process.

        "That's a question that he's going to have to answer for you," Viasa said while shaking her head. "If I answer you it'll mess things up.  You need him to be with you, so don't let him leave when the time comes.  Without him you three girls won't make it very far."

        "Viasa, what are you saying?  Do you mean me, Dawn, and Chris?"

        "And Sean!  Don't forget Sean!"

        "Why?  Why is he so important?  What's going to happen?"

        Viasa said nothing, but continued duplicating the last few pages of the Sand Scrolls in an unnerving silence.  Tara itched to hear Viasa say more, but she knew better than to press the old woman if she deemed it improper to tell you things she thought you shouldn't know.  Continually asking her questions about things she refused to elaborate on usually made her spontaneously erupt into an angry fit where she would keep on grabbing anything she could pick up and throwing it at the individual pressuring her.

        Tara was also feeling anxious knowing that the Necromancer, Bannon, was going to arrive any minute.  She detested him and thought he was the most pitiful excuse for a man if there ever was one.  To her relief they finished the last page and he still hadn't arrived yet.

        Viasa scooped up the pile of papyrus, rolled it up neatly and stuck it back in the scroll case.  She then turned toward Tara, leaned against the back of one of the chairs and released a sigh of relief as though she too was grateful to have completed their work before their undesirable company arrived.

        "Oh, Tara, my dear child," Viasa said as she reached forward and motherly brushed back a bit of hair that was hanging in the little Wizards face. "Life is going to throw so many wonderful and horrible things at you.  I wish I could be there to shield you from the worst of it all, but I can't. The best I can do for you is to give you my advice, so take heed."

        She paused a moment to make sure she had Tara's complete and undivided attention before speaking again. "Always, always, always stay true to yourself.  Trust your friends, even when you doubt them.  Especially when you doubt them.  Have faith in yourself.  You are more capable of doing what you need to do than you think you are, and if you believe in your friends then the trials that you'll endure will have a much happier ending for you."

        "You've never spoken to me like this before.  What's going on?" Tara stared at her mentor and friend with mixed feelings of confusion and fear.

        Just then the intense moment was broken by the sound of Bannon's booming voice as he shouted down into the manhole from above. "Hello!?  Elder Viasa, are you down there you crazy old witch!?"

        Both women looked up in Bannon's direction and each made their own unpleasant face for the benefit of his arrival.  Viasa quickly reached into the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled out a miniature vial which she opened and tossed its contents into the back of her throat.  Tara looked at her with raised eyebrows begging to know what she had just drank; but Viasa ignored her stare and had that distant look in her eyes again. 

        Bannon did nothing to make his decent a quiet one and the sounds of his mumbled curses pouring out of the mouth of the manhole expressed his dislike for the meeting place.  He cursed freely not caring whether or not they could hear him and he made it blatantly clear how the place made him feel claustrophobic.

        Viasa took Tara by the shoulders with both hands and focused Tara entirely on her.  Her eyes looked moist, and for a second Tara thought that tears would start streaming down the side of her friends face.  Her lips even trembled, but she held herself together, and spoke softly enough so that Bannon wouldn't overhear. "This is the second to last time I'm going to get to see you, and the next time we meet It's not likely we'll be able to hear each other, so I had to say these things now.  I know it's a lot to absorb all of a sudden, so I wrote it all out the best that I could, and I left it in the top draw of my desk.  Please, only open that one.  I don't want you to be inflicted by the nasty surprises I have in the others."

        "Viasa… I… I don't know what to say," she whispered back, barely able to hold onto her own emotions as well.  A terrible feeling was choking Tara's insides as she comprehended that her friend knew her own death was near, and she swallowed hard unable to say the million things that she wanted to say.

        "You don't have to say anything," Viasa told her much more calmly, appreciating the look of loss that Tara was feeling for her, "but you could do one thing for me before you go."

        "Anything," was all Tara could voice through the lump in her throat.

        "Smile."

        Tara spontaneously smiled with the plain and simple request of her grossly underappreciated friend.  It was a sad smile, she knew, and she doubled her efforts to improve it for the sake of Viasa.  To help her feel better Viasa silently pointed in the direction of Bannon and then brought her finger to her nose.  She wiggled it around pretending to dig around the inside of it, and then stuck her finger in her mouth making a face like she had eaten something very delicious.

        Tara couldn't help herself but to laugh at what she was insinuating, and with the sudden burst of laughter she felt a small release of the anxiety that had built up inside her.  Tara was truly grateful for having the pleasure of knowing Viasa.

        "A smile and a laugh to boot.  There's no finer way for us to depart," Viasa said as she hugged her friend and patted her on the back.

        "What are you two wackos talking about?" Bannon complained as he made contact with the top of the stepladder. "On second thought, never mind.  The less I hear from you the better my chances of keeping my sanity."

        Tara turned around to face the despicable man, and both women could feel the foul presence that accompanied him as he came fully into view.  He was wearing a head to toe black suit.  Even the shirt underneath the jacket was black.  Tara knew that under the professional outfit there was a scrawny man that reminded her of a snake.  She also caught a glimpse of something metallic covering the ear facing her, but before she could focus in on it Viasa pulled her back and leaned in close to her ear to whisper something.

        "There's going to be a time very soon when he and your friend Chris are fighting." Viasa spoke rapidly making it hard for Tara to make out every word, but she was able to fill in the parts that she missed.  "In order for you all to make it out alive you must remove that ro… that bu…,â€� Viasa strained to find the word to match what her vision showed her and to convey it in a manner that would help Tara. “…that thing from his ear," she concluded as quickly as she could before Bannon could see what she was doing and become suspicious.

        As fast as Viasa had pulled Tara back, she straightened up and took on a false look of being prepared to act as an overly helpful and polite librarian.  Bannon stepped onto the concrete floor and stood facing them with his hands on his hips as though he was superior to them. "Tara, why am I not surprised to find you in this pit talking to the village idiot," he said with a nasty sneer hooked on his face.

        Tara ignored his comment and instead concentrated on getting a better look at what was hanging over his ear.  It was a metallic colored wireless earphone, and he looked as though he was enjoying showing it off.

        “Why are you wearing that?â€� Tara asked Bannon, her curiosity getting the better of her.

        “Heh!  It’s an earphone.  A Bluetooth to be more precise.  Jealous?â€� Bannon responded, sounding all snooty. “It comes in real handy with my new job.â€�

        “Do I even want to know?â€� Tara questioned, knowing that it didn’t matter, because she already knew that Bannon wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like this to brag about himself.

        “Oh, that’s right, you haven’t heard yet,â€� Bannon said with mock surprise, "and how could you since you’ve been sent away to work more in the field.  But we both know the real reason is to separate you from your ‘oh so embarrassing addiction to magic’.â€� Bannon wiggled his fingers in the air, imitating quotation marks with his last spoken words.  Only a few of the village elders knew the truth about Tara being Dawn’s guardian, but almost everyone knew about her magic probation.  Everyone else in Tara’s community were under the impression that the village elders had sent her away to live with plain people, so that her magical studies would cease, and she would be less likely to burn herself out.

        Bannon didn’t pause long enough to let Tara get a word in edge wise.  He plowed on ahead, explaining things about himself as if he were God’s gift to the world. “Due to the constant rejections I got every time I petitioned the Council of Elders to allow me to advance in the art of necromancy, I decided to take a different approach based on some friendly advice.  I requested from our village Elder that I be permitted to act as our town’s official liaison to the Council of Eldersâ€�

         â€œWait a second, this you has Veneficus Morbus.â€� Viasa directed her question at Tara with a wide eyed surprised expression, only now just realizing what Bannon was making a reference to. “Well that’s just wonderful!  Your future is looking much brighter,â€� Viasa said with true sincerity.

        Both Tara and Bannon stared at the older woman feeling very confused.  Sometimes even Tara had a difficult time understanding where Viasa was coming from, but she had experienced enough to know that even if she didn’t understand it at the moment, when she eventually looked back on it latter it would probably make sense then.

        "Remember, you have to get a really good grip on it and yank it out as hard as you can,â€� Viasa told Tara, changing the subject so fast that it left Bannon completely clueless and even Tara almost lost her, but she was pretty sure she meant the wireless earphone on Bannon’s ear.  Viasa gestured with her hands as if she was grabbing some imaginary plant and jerking it up out of the ground.

        “The more roots you get the better it'll be," she continued her elusive comment as she gave Tara a gentle nudge in the direction of the ladder, encouraging her to climb up.

        Tara started up the step ladder pausing halfway giving Viasa a nervous glance.  She certainly didn’t want to be around Bannon, but she also felt like she was deserting her friend.  Viasa gave her a quick reassuring wink as if she knew already what she was thinking.  Tara gave her one last smile before she disappeared from view, and began her long climb back up through the manhole.

        “What were you talking about old woman?" Tara could hear Bannon’s words echo up to her and she could tell he did not like the fact that perhaps the crazy old woman was trying to disguise what she really meant.

        "Herbology, of course!  Do you know any?" Viasa responded.

        "I think you'd be surprised with what I do know."

        "Nope, not likely,â€� Viasa told Bannon, completely unimpressed.

        There was a silent pause in their conversation and when Tara was just a few wrungs from the top she glanced downward to see an unnerving Bannon looking back up at her, waiting for her to get far enough away so that she wouldn’t be able to listen in on whatever they were going to discuss.  Not to disappoint him, or Viasa, she hurriedly climbed to the top and went to the opposite end of the basement.

        The area was well lit and filled with rows of shelves that contained books, crates, and an assortment of other items.  Most of the floor was padded with carpet, and like the rest of the library, everything was kept dust free and in good working order all because of the care Viasa put into the place.

        Near the stairs leading up to the main floor of the library was Viasa’s personal office.  It was a small cubicle walled into the corner with a row of windows going around it, and they all had the blinds pulled down and closed.  The door to it was part way open almost like Viasa had left it that way as an invitation to Tara.  She gave it a little nudge, opening it wider so she could peek in, and was surprised to see her office in disarray.  There was a large desk that took up the entire back wall, and an old style wooden swivel chair in front of it.  All over the desk, chair and floor were piles of papers; some stacked a foot high and others as tall as three feet.  A narrow path unobstructed by the paper stacks lead to the work space and there was just enough room cleared in front so a person could open the draws to the cabinet under the desk.

        Tara carefully made her way across the room and was about to open the top draw of the filing cabinet, but paused for a moment to reconsider.  Viasa told her just a moment ago to make sure she opened “the top drawâ€�, and suggested that the others had traps of some kind to safe guard whatever was in them.  Such a notion warranted a closer examination of the desk. 

        Sure enough in the upper left corner of the desk behind a tall stack of papers there was a small draw among several cubby holes.  Tara reexamined the area to make sure there were no other “top draws.â€� Satisfied that there weren’t any, she carefully opened the tiny thing, prepared to bolt out the door at the first sign of trouble, just in case she had guessed wrong.  Nothing happened and she pulled it out the rest of the way, peeking inside to see its contents.  Inside were two sealed envelopes, a pair of plain gold bracelets, and a note written on a small piece of paper.  Since the note was on top and readily available to read, Tara thought it proper to look at that first.

        I want to tell you so much, but sometimes less is better.  I can only do little things to aid you in the outcome of certain events, or else I risk changing the future I see too much, then the aid I offer is useless.  The first envelope is for you.  It’s very important that you do not open it on this world.  I know my request sounds strange, but have I not said stranger things than this before?  The second envelope is for Sean’s uncle.  Its delivery is more sentimental, and you may not like the man once you meet him, but it would mean a lot to me if you personally handed it to him.  Finally the bracelets are for you.  They will disguise any spellcasting you do so that the elders watching you won’t see it.  However, you must be careful to give it time between castings to slowly dissipate the magical energies it filters for you or else they could overload and may even burn you.
Lastly, please return to the archive and seal the entrance.  Try not to let anything you may overhear get to you.  In fact the less you let yourself listen to the better off you’ll be, and no matter what you do you must under no circumstances tell anyone what has happened here.  Not until after you witness Bannon’s final moment.   

        You may think that what you’re doing is terrible, but remember I’ve seen the future in many ways and I need you to trust me that this is for the best.  Know that what I do is for you, and be glad for it, because the path you are about to tread will not have so many helpful offers.  I wish I could say more, but you really must go and seal the door now, please.

        Remember you will see me again.

        Tara’s face scrunched up, not liking the last request her friend made of her, but none the less she took the contents of the draw with her and quickly returned to the top of the manhole that lead into the archives.  She did her best to take Viasa’s advice and not listen to what she heard coming out of the hole, but after catching just a couple of words it was impossible for her to ignore.

        “You think that since you drank the poison you’re safe from me?!â€� Bannon’s angry voice came spilling out of the manhole leading to the secret archives. “You may have saved your powers, but I’ll make your last few moments alive be of exquisite suffering!â€�

        Tara was about to slide the smaller replica of the archive door, but when she heard Bannon’s promise she froze in horror for what fate she was condemning her old mentor to.

        “You are such a young fool!â€� Viasa retaliated with her own shrieking voice. “What do you think the elders will believe when they discover you down here with my body all mutilated.â€�

        “Wait! What do you mean!?â€� Bannon’s voice shifted with the realization that crazy Viasa had led him into a trap.

        “He he he, that’s right!  All I have to do is crush this glass sphere between my fingers and the safety seal keeping that cement slab open will be broken.  I’m about to stop breathing in a couple of minutes, how long do you think the little bit of air down here will last you?â€�

        Tara understood that Viasa’s statement about the glass sphere was for her benefit, letting her know that she was ready for Tara to close them both in their makeshift tomb.  She knew this was what Viasa wanted her to do, but despite knowing that her hands trembled and a tear streaked down her face with the terrible thought of what she was about to do.  How could this be right?  What insane vision did she see that could justify what she wanted Tara to do?

        There was a sound down below of something being smashed and the thuds of what Tara imagined might be books being thrown.

        “Ha ha ha!  You throw like a girl!â€� Viasa’s crazy laughter sounded as though she was finding some amusement at Bannon’s expense.  A minute victory in Tara’s opinion.

        “Don’t you dare!â€� Bannon’s voice filled rage burst from the hole in the floor followed by a grunt from Viasa, and then the sound of several shelves breaking. 

        Tara jumped at the unnerving thought of the fragile old woman getting hit by Bannon, and she wanted nothing more than to jump down there and rescue her.  It was the right thing to do and she knew it, but Viasa’s bizarre request kept her in place.  She stared through a blurry vision of tears at the replica at her finger tips.  All she had to do was give it a gentle push and Viasa’s will would be done.

        “That’s right hit me again,â€� Viasa shouted in encouragement, “I’m sure the elders will wonder why you were striking such an old lady!  Oh look… the sphere broke.â€�

        It was now or never.  If Viasa was going to maintain the deception she intended Tara had to close the door.  Her fingers twitched giving the disguised block of cement the necessary push required to set the larger version of it into motion.  Tara’s hands leapt to her mouth to keep herself from crying out with what she had just done.  It made sense to her that Bannon shouldn’t know she was up there, so she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of giving her misery a voice.

        “NOOO!!â€� Bannon’s defiant scream at his fate was the last thing she heard as the cement slab abruptly cut it off.

        Tara grabbed Viasa’s final gifts to her and ran up the basement stairs crying freely the whole way.



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I wanted to have more time to throw in a couple of comments here but it's very late for me and I have to try and get a couple of hours sleep.  I haven't forgotten your Q's ST, but some of them will have to wait until I explain them in this chapter, so please hang in there a little longer.  I'm trying to post as much as I can as frequently as I can, and I really want to complete up to chapter 11, because things sort of come to a midway conclusion where a lot of questions get answered.  So try and bear with me.  In regards to Tara's so called sickness... It's in Latin and it's something I made up, but you'll hear Tara define it in better terms to Sean when she explains it in the next segment.

Enjoy what I posted.  Now I'm .....  zzzzzzz....

Okay I have a moment now before I have to leave for work.  This dialogue was one of the most difficult ones I've had to work on to date.  It's hard having a conversation with someone who can pretty much tell what you going to say before you even say it.  I hope you enjoyed Viasa's character.  She's not a main addition to the cast of characters I've developed but you will certainly hear from her again, probably when you least expect it.
I'll comment more latter, tonight perhaps.

Last edited by SilentStrider (2010-04-22 04:13:52)

poor Viasa. this segment was awsome. can't wait for more.

all but the last book.

well the fact that im reading the book brisinger or something like that and i cant remember anymore but i think i noticed a similarity. the books are much better. lonewolf, you should try reading the last one sometime its pretty good even if im only at the beginiing.

ill tell you if i remember why i asked

I just wanted to make a quick update post to let you all know I'm still working on the next scene.  I'm about half way through it and I'm trying to modify the dialogue so it's not too much, flows better, and to pepper it with some action/movement.  It's been a busy weekend for me and I barely had any time to sleep, and now I'm back to the Monday grind.  Ugh!  It feels too soon.  My goal is to have more for you by Thursday or Friday, so keep a look out.

Interestinsting segment. The whole talk of time and stuff is interesting. If you were to ask me, paradoxes are impossible because of noise. That, and the fact that time has already acounted for time travel, for example, the grandfather paradox. It actually turns out you were switched at birth, crating a new reality in which it (being time) gets you to murder the person who used to be your adopted grandfather. Also, I wonder what the person who's controlling bonner or whatever his name is chose him and the extent of his controll ( I'm just guessing there.).

No, just a guess.

Impulse. No other reason.

In response to your question, I believe that it was uprooting the "earphone" that did it. Roots, etc. in ear just screams at me about mind control (it also includes circumstance). In retrosopect I realise it could also be a source of power or something like that.

Note the quotation marks around "earphone". It's obviosly either a magical object, or, judging from the talk of roots, an animal or plant that has routed itself in his head, reaching into his head, thus gaining control of his mind, and, in effect, his body.

SilentStrider wrote:

Hehe, pretty good observation.  In actuality what Bannon is wearing isn't really an earphone.  There's really an illusion placed over it.  The reality of it is something a bit more gross.  You'll get to read about it soon enough.

I'm still working on the next scene, but here's a brief preview.  It will consist of Tara and Sean having a little talk where he'll get more than a few answers from Tara, before she sits down with him to try and help him through a full transformation that doesn't go too well.

sounds like it will be another great segment.

nice job can't wait for more