The Library

XII.

Roxanne walked into a huge library, shelves went from floor to ceiling, filled with books, except for space from the floor to about waist height, which was reserved for what appeared to be exhibits commemorating various events in the history of Tiesa and the League. Different artifacts and replicas filled them, with some open, being perfect models for kids to play with, exploring their history hands on, perhaps finding new insights by accidentally rearranging them or playing in ways that chart potential future events for Tiesa. In any respect, the exhibits made great use of space that otherwise would have placed books in awkward positions that would have left many of them unread and inaccessible. Sliding ladders were fitted to the shelves, with League members (known as Guardians amongst themselves) sprawled across the ladders replacing and pulling off books for each other, with others scattered throughout the room in nooks and crannies created singularly for reading, and perhaps the occasional nap.

“Wow. This is incredible. All these books gathered in one place. No wonder my father loved coming here.”

“Aye. He loved t’ read, ol’ Fairfax. All sorts of knowledge be had here. No limit to the strangeness and new ideas that ye could find.”

“Thanks, Dixie. I thought some of these didn’t exist anymore. My dad would talk about them, but I always thought they were lost forever. A side effect from the Schism or something, a lot of things were burned in the fire, weren’t they?”

“Nu, aye. But we got most of it. We scrounged up copies of most books that seemed worth keeping around.”

“It’s incredible. We have books in the Lighthouse, but most are directly connected with Keeping or the Light and some were either hidden or burned that argued against the methods of the Lighthouse. The rules became more and more strict, but I’m sure you already know about all of that.”

“I do. Make yerself at home, grab a book and find a nook,” Dixie directed, “We’ll eat some dinner in a couple of hours, until then, holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks again Dixie. This is incredible, I don’t know if I could ever read that many books. There’s just so much that I don’t know, even if I were to read everything here, I don’t think I would have even a hundredth part of the knowledge that we have available.”

“Aye, knowledge is immaterial and immeasurable. Can’t ever have enough of it. G’ luck.”

“Thanks.”

Dixie departed to complete her various other duties, leaving Roxanne to soak in the beauty of the library, with countless books and pools of knowledge waiting to be found and poured out. The sheer joy that overcame her simply by seeing so many books was immense. Books were precious to Roxanne and her father, with him reading to her as a child the classic myths and legends of Tiesa, along with recent stories that had caught his imagination and provoked further thought. Books held such power, satisfying and driving Roxanne’s curiosity, the more she read, the more she knew, the more she wanted to know. Knowledge seemed to drive a cycle of perpetual learning that inspired growth and change. The restrictions placed on reading in the Lighthouse weren’t definitive, but they did effectively determine what was easily available. A limitation on the knowledge base was easily created, without worry of reaction and disturbance.

Roxanne gathered a few books that discussed the period leading up to and following the Schism, hoping to learn more of why things were the way they are, since she remembered the big events, but lacked a context to place them in and missed many of the overtones that would be present looking back, due to her own lack of understanding and experience. Maybe she could come to understand why her father felt that the Lighthouse and the Light were not the same, though he seemed to suggest that to her as she grew up. Perhaps she simply misunderstood what he was saying, or his loyalty to the Light was tied to the Lighthouse in her mind, since everyone else always equated the two together, she had never bothered to separate them until the recent discovery of her father’s journals, that suggested a clear distinction between the two. It was still difficult for Roxanne to accept and try and incorporate into her understanding, since the actions of Bartholomew as she left the Lighthouse pushed her to question the idea of Light and the Lighthouse, losing hope that there was a way for Keepers to keep the Light without becoming drunk on the power that it provided. She wanted to hope in the Light, but needed to pull apart the ideas of Light and the Lighthouse, even though the Lighthouse had always provided her with the Light, it seemed that perhaps the Light could be gathered and kept in other ways, or maybe not at all. Roxanne read and thought, questioning everything that had once been certain. Grateful for her time in the Lighthouse, but wanting to really know, not simply taking the word of others for it.

Elsewhere in the League headquarters, a tall, hooded figure returned from an extended leave of absence. As the figure brought his horse into the stable at the back several Guardians approached him, taking the horse and proceeding to clean and prepare him for rest and future journeys. The others informed the figure of the new visitor, the daughter of Fairfax, investigating the connections he had to the League and the reasons for his continued association even though he knew the cost could be his life and the orphaning of his daughter. The figure nodded, thanking the Guardians for the information and the care of his horse. As he neared the building a reverent excitement came over the Guardians, for here came the voice of reason, the voice of action, and the voice of friendship, reaching out to any and all that are in need.

“Ambassador, we shall take your luggage. Dixie is coordinating dinner and Roxanne, the daughter of Fairfax is in the library increasing her Light and knowledge. She hopes to learn about the Schism, identifying a cause and ideally finding a cure, a way to bridge the gap bringing the opposing sides to peace.”

“Thank you, I’ll be in my office if anyone should need to see me.”

“Shall I inform Roxanne that you want to meet her?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. If I need to talk to her, I’ll go find her myself.”

*

The Lighthouse was overcome with panic filled with a thick layer of sorrow and loss. Key members had been executed for treachery days ago, their celebration of the day of Resolution had been marred by the terrorist actions of The Glare, Bartholomew had ordered increased efforts to track down any and all that disagreed with the Lighthouse in hopes of restoring peace, while the Glare launched another attack destroying the monument to the Lighthouse in the square. As if that weren’t enough, Roxanne had fled and Thaddeus was gone, leaving a message in a bottle that suggested he had joined with The Glare, doing what he knew to be right. Erin’s world was collapsing around her. Those that she had been closest to, were scattering like beams of light through a crystal, leaving her confused and alone. She thought that the Lighthouse was a safe place, where she could count on others to stick with her, giving support and showing loyalty that she desperately needed. Erin had been abandoned by her parents; her youth lived amongst the shadows of Tiesa, nearby the Lighthouse. She struggled to find food, one day sneaking into the Lighthouse to steal some food. She was caught and brought in becoming like family to the Keepers. Her days in the shadows were but a dark spot in her memory, but the emotions triggered by that experience still drove her to this day. The stability that she lacked in a family she had found in the Lighthouse and was committed to never betraying that trust, as it was the one place where she felt that and could never do to someone else what had been done to her. Her unyielding commitment to the Lighthouse had always been a source of comfort, until the past few days had caused her to question what the Lighthouse had done and what the Keepers had done. Did she owe her loyalty to the Lighthouse as she had always thought, or to certain friends that had brought her in and treated her as family? Could she be loyal to both? How could she support and not leave her friends that had left the Lighthouse? Could she be a friend to them and a committed Keeper?

Erin hated ambiguity and confusion. She longed for clear cut answers, the black and white, becoming lost in the sea of grey. Her loyalty to Roxanne and Thaddeus was so intense that it brought about these deep conflicts that had been buried beneath the surface for years. She hoped they would return and that if they were traitorous, that Bartholomew would show mercy.

“Traitors? How could I even think such a thing. Roxanne and Thaddeus are some of the most devoted, knowledgeable Keepers I have ever known. No, if they left there must be a reason. Unless, ‘too much Light brings blindness.’ Could the adage be true? What would be the implications of such a truth?”

Erin was lost in introspection, laying on her bed, exhausted and still weak from her wound. She reached down and ran her fingers over the scar that was forming, feeling the mark that would be there for the rest of her life. How could they join with someone that had done such visible harm to me? Where is their loyalty?