Capítulo 15: 15. Chapter 1
Omen's POV
England.
Oh, how I wanted to see her cobblestone paved streets and watched her people dressed to the nines. The sea of people, men in smart coats plus tall hats and the ladies in their colourful dresses, ambled along the sidewalks. I stared in amusement at the horse carriages running up and down the road. It was a wonder to be taken back in time.
The hustle and bustle of activity in 19th century England plus the thought of meeting the famous "fictional" detective would have excited me, if, this was just a vacation.
You guessed it right.
Dark Shadow had ultimately gotten his hands on this particular cornerstone book. Unfortunately, this was what the riddle from the 1st Alice's letter had foretold.
Sherlock Holmes had indeed met a mishap.
I had arrived at Farnham several hours before the tragedy. Mike, on the other hand, was back in the Library. He was currently locating the copies of the Young Sherlock Holmes series so that he knew what exactly happened and planned our next course of actions.
A cornerstone book acts as a pillar of support for the Library.
If one really got burnt to ashes, the domino effect would happen to the rest causing the Library to crumble and cease to exist. Imagination would be left defenceless without the protection of the Library, subjecting to great risk for Dark Shadow to take it. Therefore, it was of utmost importance that I came here to prevent or lessen the impact.
There was also a failsafe option, known to higher level Guardians like Mike and now me. There are several copies of cornerstone books scattered around the Library. Similar to a cat with nine lives, erasing one copy of a book would not be enough to bring down a cornerstone book.
As passers-by walked past me, I thought back to the last conversation I had with Mike before I came into this World.
~~~~~
(Flashback) At the Library, Mike's room
"Well, this is a first."
I leaned on the door of his room while he was ruffling up his auburn hair in frustration. His perfectly arranged hair became a bird's nest when he was done ruffling.
The moment we were back at the Library, Mike immediately made a beeline to his room to research about the 'Laughing Clowns'. Meanwhile, I went to check on the unconscious Guardians. There was nothing new to their vitals now. It was like they are suspended in their consciousness, neither recovering nor deteriorating in health.
"This is the first time I have seen you this frustrated."
He whipped his head to glare at me.
"Oh you haven't seen the worst of me yet."
I ignored his harmless threat while nodding my head towards his messy desk.
"So, what have you found?"
Mike gathered the pieces of papers that were strewn messily around. The hard covered books were buried under layers and layers of papers and maps, opened at certain pages and marked with coloured tags.
"From what I have gathered and deduced, there are a few levels within Dark Shadow's Army. Each level is a different troop of soldiers with different specialities. In total, there should be 3 levels."
"Similar to ours." I commented.
The Guardians have a system of creating ranks to organise ourselves:
-Rank 1 was the lowest. The newly joined Guardians and those that were still in training formed this level.
-Rank 2 comprises of adventurous Guardians who did missions plus those who prefer desk jobs. This is the rank that I belong to previously, Mike recently promoted me to rank 3 as the acting Leader of the Library.
-Rank 3 are usually the experts. Mostly those have worked in the Library for close to 800 years. Although there were exceptions which Guardians are around 500 to 600 years old, young experts like Mike were extremely valued within the Library and were occasionally sent out to do dangerous missions. Oh! And Sebastian belonged to this rank before he decided to be a character in the Black Butler World.
-Rank 4 are where the old farts are. The senile and cowardly Elders who seemed to think that everything revolves around them. I really wonder why they belong to this rank but many of my seniors have said that they belonged to the Creator's generation and hence can't be 'dethroned' easily.
Within the ranks, there are low, middle and high ranks that are based on the contribution points you have accumulated through missions that are put up or assigned to the Guardians based on their abilities and rank. Of course, the old farts don't have to do anything but just fart through their mouths.
If you are asking about the rank of our Creator, she has no rank but the title itself was more than enough. Very few have titles like our Creator. And I aspired to be like her to obtain a fitting title for myself.
Now that we got this bit of information out, let us get back to Mike.
He nodded his head in agreement as he shuffled through his notes.
"The first level comprises of the soldiers and common Shadow monsters that we have encountered before; the Dark soldiers and the different varying types of Shadows.
The second level is rumoured to be an elite force of soldiers specifically trained to counter the Guardian's magic. In layman's term, I think they are mages or anti-mages."
"Rumoured? " I questioned as I frowned. "Does that mean this information hasn't been verified?"
"Correct, because there are few records given by the spies. Unfortunately, none lived to confirm that piece of information."
I shuddered when I recalled the disfigured faces of the spies that were returned to the Library. Some had their faces fixated in smiles that were too large for their faces while some were tortured to the point we cannot identify them with our eyes.
"Anyway, the last level is what I believed to be Dark Shadow's most trusted and most powerful retainers and generals." Mike concluded.
I thought deeply, arms folded with my right hand propping up my head.
"So it is most probable that the Laughing Clowns are in the second level." I concluded as I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.
"That's exactly my thought. Unfortunately, there are no more information on Dark Shadow's Army. And no information about the Laughing Clowns."
"Count on Sebastian to give such a valuable information at such a critical moment." I grumbled.
"It's expected. We are at war now and there are ears everywhere. Telling us the moment we left is to protect his charge and us. Also, here are the information on Alice and Wonderland. You will need to stay updated about this because..."
"Because this is related to the letters that we are collecting."
He gave a glare at my interruption. I gave a small chuckle while receiving the thin file filled with valuable information.
"Mike, what's wrong with you today? Why are you so damn cranky?"
He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before wiping the lenses of his glasses.
"There is little or incomplete information about Dark Shadow plus the story "Alice Human Sacrifice" was passed down verbally. It was rumoured to be generated after the publication of "Alice in Wonderland". It is odd that the Library does not contain this particular story, hence I am feeling especially jittery about the lack of information."
He gave a sigh.
"I cannot be absolutely certain about the dangers that we are heading towards."
I patted his shoulder as an attempt to console.
"We will deal with that when we cross that part of the..."
There was a loud crash that reverberated throughout the Library.
"...bridge. "
Alarms began to blare and Mike's room was flooded in red disco lights.
"What... just went down?"
Mike was already pulling up his electronic screens to search for the source of the problem. He tapped on the keyboards rapidly while occasionally pausing to read the words.
He turned to me with a grave face.
"We have a situation."
"No shit, Sherlock."
~~~~~
I cringed at the reference.
I always seemed to have a knack for giving bad references and puns at the most dire situations. But... the expression on Mike's face was rather priceless. I was 100% sure he really wanted to strangle me right there and then. Instead, he opted for a milder version of violence which include a taste of his lightning spell and a rude send-off to Young Sherlock Holmes's World.
No regrets though.
This time, I was dressed in a boy's garbs; a striped black and white vest with a white undershirt matched with a small flat grey hat since it was a more inconspicuous disguise rather a girl's. Plus I can run around without being hindered by a dress.
It was rather unfortunate that being a female without an escort would make an easy prey to the predators out there in this century. Not the kind of distraction that I wanted during this important time.
I could have used my mirror replicator magic to alter my body figure to that of a boy's but it was more fun to play dress-up as a teenage boy.
I also had to go through the hassle of changing my hair colour from blue to dark chocolate brown and altering my orange cat-like eyes to a normal brown human's eyes. I also had my hair cut short.
Don't worry, magic can make it grow long again.
Humans fear the unknown. So most won't bother to understand as my original appearance would have frightened them off.
Although... I tend to use that fear of theirs to humour myself during the missions when the Library wasn't invaded. Also that one time when I assassinated the man in the Black Butler World... I grinned at that thought.
Those were the fun times.
Standing at the entrance of the train station, I casually leaned against the brick wall while keeping my eyes and ears alert for any signs of Sherlock. To the eyes of the passers-by, I was merely a random boy from a slightly wealthy family waiting for his friend at the front of the station.
"Ged out of da way, ya punks! Get out!!"
One of the handymen who were carrying heavy load off the truck hollered out. The 2 boys on the bikes quickly swerved and avoided them but unfortunately one of them ran straight into a pile of steel pipes. There was a collective gasp of shock when the pile dislodged itself and the pipes came tumbling down on the poor guy who had no time to dodge.
I cursed as I took off to help the boy pulled his friend out. Some of the men also frantically moving the pipes off of him.
"What is your name, kid?"
I checked the unconscious friend for serious injuries while asking the boy. He was wearing slightly shabby and dirty clothes. Yet his friend who was lying on the ground like Sleeping Beauty was dressed in slightly better and cleaner clothes. An uncomfortable feeling settled in my heart while I continued to assess him. While I had nothing against people of different social classes forming relationships, this pair gave me the impression that I should know them.
Could they be part of the characters in the story of Young Sherlock Holmes?
I shook myself off that thought while I concentrated on the injured boy. Except for his bleeding head which got whacked by the pipes, he only sustained a few minor injuries. Still needed to staunch the bleeding though, I thought to myself hurriedly as I took a piece of gauze pad from my small bag and pressed it against the boy's forehead. It was always a good thing I packed some first aid stuff even if I have accelerated healing as a Guardian.
"Thank you. I'm Matty... Matty Arnatt."
I froze.
"What about your friend?"
"Sherlock Holmes."
I cursed. Again.
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