Chapitre 52: Lorenz and the Towers of Midnight 3
"Ah, Lorenz, isn't it?" An aged voice called as he walked towards the staircase leading to the library's entrance.
Lorenz jerked to a halt at the sound. He'd been mulling over his gold, much of which had vanished the moment he'd chucked his research stack into his inventory. Instead of just leaving, though, it was replaced by a weird (432) instead. Clicking the number showed a countdown.
It just so happened to be the amount of gold he was missing. Then there were two items grayed out in his inventory with the same amount of time on them. They just happened to be the bag of seeds he'd gotten from Charlize's Greenhouse and the glass stone he'd found after that quest. The only two things not greyed out was the folio he'd received from the flowerling, Dahlia Crocus and the stack of research books which displayed as a single container in his inventory, even though it was taking up so much space.
Lorenz found the implications rather fascinating.
He turned to see an elderly mage hurrying in his direction. As he passed, mages and librarians alike paused and bowed in his direction. The old mage waved them off absentmindedly as he neared Lorenz.
"I've been searching for you, m'boy," the mage said, eking out a smile on his face.
"I'm sorry to have been so difficult," Lorenz shot back. He was familiar with that look. He'd been dealing with variations of it since he was eight. "What can I aid you in?"
"Such a great young man," the mage said, snagging his arm and tugging him along. "As you know, I'm Mage Briec Hollins, owner of this fine library," he said as they walked towards a platform set near the middle of the staircase.
Mage Hollins tugged Lorenz onto the platform. With a wink, he intoned a nearly subsonic syllable. Lorenz felt his bones vibrate from it.
The platform lurched and then smoothly ascended. Lorenz tried to stop himself from staring. He'd never seen anyone using the platforms before.
"I don't give out the authorization for it often," Mage Hollins said with a chuckle as he watched Lorenz. "I can give you your own activation for it, though."
Lorenz was more startled by that offer than he'd been over the platform moving or Mage Hollins looking for him. Orrin had told him numerous stories about his mentor's finicky personality.
"I don't think I'm worthy," Lorenz said as the platform came to a halt at the very top of the library.
Lorenz looked around curiously. There were steps that ended next to the platform, the lintels and spindles made out of carved, stained marble to look like trees with vines and animals twined around them. A few steps downwards, a massive door could be seen, faintly glowing with a restriction.
The whole floor was set up much like the rest of the library floors. There was a section that was nothing but floor to ceiling bookcases, though here the books were interspaced with various knickknacks, reminding him of the one he'd gotten at Charlize's Greenhouse.
Half of the floor was blocked off by one long bookcase with another massive door, duplicate to the one blocking the stairs, set in the middle. Another quarter was blocked with another pair of bookcases, but Lorenz recognized the signs of a resting space. It was most likely where the old mage's apprentices rested.
The apprentices themselves were clustered around three or four long tables, their appearances mussed and disheveled. Their hushed discussions stopped as they realized the mage was back.
"Mage Hollins, sir," the oldest one said, straightening up. He looked to be about four or five years older than Lorenz.
Lorenz recognized him. His name was Paul Jackworth, and his birth was unremarkable. Orrin had delighted in pointing him out whenever he passed by Lorenz's table. Orrin had practically worshipped the ground the man walked on.
According to Orrin, Paul had gotten the mage's notice because of his brilliance. Then his research topics had been brilliant enough to win a couple of the yearly knowledge battles between the libraries.
For Orrin, part of the appeal was that Paul Jackworth's parents were mere farmers, not even gentlemen farmers, but actual hand-to-mouth type farmers. No one in his family had ever been a mage or displayed a hint of being able to perform magic.
If not for Paul looking exactly like his father who in turn resembled his father, there would probably be unhappiness in his family. It had been his grandfather who, indulging him, had taken him to be assessed during one of the multitude of assessments Maraca held every year.
Then he'd been shuttled off to the schools and then graduated to become a research apprentice to Mage Hollins.
"Did you find an answer?" Paul asked, his expression anxious and frowning. He ran a hand through already mussed hair. "I've gone over the books again and still!"
"What's wrong?" Lorenz asked. He swept a glance over the group of uneasy apprentices. One girl was sitting on a table surrounded by books, gingerly nibbling on one long nail. Even as he watched, she switched hands.
"According to my written records, we're still short, Mage Hollins," she said in a gentle, worried voice. "Even down to the single copper." Around her, a few others nodded with disturbed looks.
Mage Hollins turned to Lorenz. His expression changed from the affable one he'd had in public to one that seemed years older. Dismay danced in his eyes, and worry added wrinkles to his already wrinkled face.
"I've asked most of the people in my library," Mage Hollins said. "All of them have said the same thing. I have nineteen research apprentices, nineteen young mages under my wings."
Lorenz sucked in a hard breath. As long as he'd been in Maraca, all he'd heard about was Mage Hollins and his vast amount of research apprentices, mostly spoken in tones of envy. To have so many meant that either your research needed so much information you couldn't make do with the usual eight or nine or that you could support the research lines of so many apprentices without needing outside help.
Mage Hollins had twenty young mages under him, counting Orrin.
Lorenz looked around the library.
"Where's Orrin?" He asked, unprepared for Mage Hollins to lunge forward, his old hands latching onto Lorenz' mage robe.
"Orrin? Who's Orrin, and why would you think he'd be here?"
*****
Lorenz clambered out of his capsule and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn't know what to do.
At some point—while he'd been complaining to Heidi maybe—Orrin had vanished. Not just vanished, but had somehow gotten himself erased from the consciousness of everyone in Maraca, including his family.
Only, and this was key, Mage Hollins had his floor heavily warded. While Orrin was gone, they could tell that someone had existed there. There were records of a twentieth person, and Orrin's room was still there, cluttered with his stuff and research. They even had faint memories of talking to someone, just not who.
Even his family still had his room, untouched by anyone. Everyone had assumed it was some sort of storage closet, but no one had entered. That had been spooky. Lorenz shivered as he remembered the haunted looks in Orrin's parents' eyes.
His mom had been wearing the brooch Orrin had been buying the first time Lorenz met him. Her fingers kept straying to it while Lorenz spoke. Orrin's father and brothers had been at first doubtful and then increasingly enraged. Even his sister didn't remember Orrin, though she had a faint, misty memory of someone bringing her bags of candied fruit.
Mage Hollins was considered a bit peculiar by some of the mages in Maraca. If Lorenz had to guess, he'd say the man had a hefty dose of OCD. Everything on the floor had been in sets of five. There had been twenty-five research tables, forty bookcases, and even the staircase ended on step ten from the door.
Every research table held five sets of stationery, five little cups with five writing implements whether they were pencils, pens or quills and five little globe holders with globes within which swirled randomly five points of light.
Even the number of windows visible were in sets of five.
Lorenz figured that missing one of his apprentices would have set the man off anyways. It was clear that there weren't twenty of them after all, and Mage Hollins always recruited in sets of five, every fifteen months or so. At that time, there might be more than twenty, but usually one or more of the older apprentices was ready to spread their wings and go off to do their own personal research or adventure. All told, Mage Hollins probably had far more disciples than anyone realized.
Lorenz eyed his mother's closed capsule. The sight reminded him that he'd forgotten to follow up on the mysterious composer of the song. Lorenz wasn't too sure how much he believed his mother's claims.
Still, if some chulo thought he was going to make the moves on his sweet, innocent mother…
Lorenz shook his head, dispersing the thought. Orrin's disappearance had eaten up most of the day's in-game time.
He'd even forgotten to mention the book Orrin had asked him to hold on to before his disappearance. Lorenz made a mental note to look at it when he logged back in. Perhaps it would shed some light on the mystery.
Lorenz fixed himself something to eat and cut on the main screen. It obligingly split into four sections: two news, one local weather and one showing the view from his capsule, set to his resting area in the library.
Lorenz shook his head. He had no clue how to set it to something else. Nate had mentioned that you could set it to show a view instead of where you last logged out. Still, Lorenz could see how that would be useful for those exploring the vast tracts of unmapped (to the players) lands.
He paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth as a motion caught his eye. Lorenz frowned, watching as the motion resolved into the door to his resting place slowly inching open. He lowed his sandwich as a robed figure ducked into his resting place.
The robe was long and a luxurious black. It was edged in crimson thread that seemed to glitter in the dim light of the resting place, lit by a lone lamp set on the desk. The lamp was a generic one Lorenz had picked up while on break, and one of the few bits of personalization he'd done on the little room.
When the figure turned, he jumped. Under the cowl covering its head, it had no face, simply darkness decorated by two shining diamond white eyes. The figure looked around as it eased the door shut.
Lorenz found his breath coming just a little bit faster as it stretched out a hand made of shadow to ruffle the bed covers. He extended the remote to cut on the sound to that little block of screen.
"Where is it? I was told he had it," the figure was hissing to itself as it effortlessly turned over the bed with one hand.
Lorenz swallowed. The bed was made of solid oak construction. Librarian Mirabelle had taken great pleasure in describing everything that had gone into its making; her family was a strange duality of woodworkers and scholars and had made most of the furniture in the dorms at the library.
"Where, oh, where could it be," the figure snarled as it ripped the door off of the armoire.
Lorenz watched with wide eyes as the figure devastated his little resting space. The only thing untouched was the lone picture on the wall of the Maraca gates.
"Do you still have it, I wonder," the figure asked, suddenly looking up. Lorenz's breath caught in his throat as the figure moved just a little.
Lorenz snatched up the remote and clicked it off. He swallowed hard. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that the figure knew he was watching.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Tashady
Tashady Lol! Did you know that lemons were created by hybridizing oranges and limes?? I was reminded of that while reading a short story where a fae was commenting that lemons were an exotic rarity when he was a kid.
Quarantine let me find a lot of weird trivia!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone