Chapter 1

Ashur wearily raised his head from the ground and surveyed the carnage around him. His head hurt.

Although this was his ninth war with the Oudromore Kingdom’s army, he was hard pressed to remember the last time they had fought in such dense forests. The Earl of Rekrat’s cavalry had tried to follow his company across the light meadows outside this stretch of woodland but had been turned back by the archer platoons hidden in the brush.

Unfortunately, the mounted soldiers had been closely followed by their own infantry; armed with heavy shields that absorbed or deflected arrows with relative ease. Rekrat’s brown and grey sigils became steadily more visible to the retreating archers as the foot-soldiers purposefully crossed the woodline.

From there it had been a nearly even match between the two forces with Oudromore’s men slowly working their way around to flank the intruders. The archers that had been set up in tree stands helped to winnow down Rekrat’s men, but the dense forest made clear shots difficult. Eventually, it had come down to sword, shield, and individual close combat technique.

As Ashur looked around, he could see that he was one of very few of either side that were moving. His head throbbed from the blow behind his ear which had knocked him unconscious. He was fortunate that he had been dodging from his opponent’s thrust at the time. Had he stood his ground and parried, the soldier who had moved up behind him would have been able to solidly connect with a mace.

Lucky dodge or not, his gorge rose as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. The world wavered around him. Part of him was aware that he was in a bad position to defend himself from an attacker, but his body didn’t seem to care and he fell over onto his side.

Some interminable time later, he decided that he was up to moving again. The screams of battle had dimmed to a cacophony of groans and cries from the injured and mortally wounded. Ashur’s vision was as blurry as his thoughts as he got his feet under him. He remembered that he had been somewhere near the edge of the battle but with his mind fogged by concussion, he wasn’t certain. With his ears still lightly ringing, he stumbled forward toward what he fervently hoped was the Kingdom’s command area. Moving from tree to tree, his addled mind failed to register that he was leaving the noise of the battlefield behind and drifting deeper into the forest.

Eventually, all he could hear was the high-pitched tones in his ears and his own shambling footfalls. His head had cleared just enough that this fact could slowly insinuate itself into his consciousness. Ashur cursed lightly and, realizing that he had wandered off from the main body, turned to the direction he thought he had come from and started moving again.

Still forced to use trees for balance, he had covered nearly thirty feet when the rotted elm he had fallen against crumbled inward. His own weight, off-balance from the unexpected movement, pulled him forward into the hole uncovered by the disintegrating wood. His surprised cry was cut off as his head struck a rock jutting out from edge of the pit.

His eyes opened again in the dark as consciousness slowly tried to take hold of him once more. They were heavy and didn’t seem to want to obey him. His stomach roiled worse now from two head injuries which made rising to a kneeling position one of the hardest things he had ever done.

In the distance he could see a faint light growing larger as it moved towards him. Eventually, he could make out a slender, feminine figure holding the light. As she approached, a bright smile lit up her face and she leaned down; reaching out to him with both arms.

“Welcome O Chosen Receiver of the Secrets of ... EWW! WHAT THE FUCK?”

Falling forward, Ashur lost the battle with his stomach. His last view was of her drenched feet and dress as his face hit the dirt floor.

He ached. Oh, how he ached! The dull throb of his skull felt as though it was the source of shooting pains down his back and into his body. Ashur briefly curled up into a fetal ball before stretching out to his full six-foot two length. Turning his head from side to side in an effort to stretch cramping neck muscles, he opened his eyes.

His first terrified thought was that he was somehow blind. After a moment’s reflection, however, he realized that he could see a dim source of light from somewhere distant. Groaning as he sat up, he began to take stock of his situation. His last conscious memory was of the battle. How had he ended up here?

Where was here?

Ashur’s nose took in the damp smells of earth while his exploring fingers found loose soil beneath him. Looking around gave him few clues as the subdued light did little to brighten whatever small room he was in.

Feeling slightly chilled, the injured man slowly realized that he had somehow been stripped of his armor and outer clothes; leaving him in nothing more than his linen under-shorts. Off to the side, he could just make out a rough blanket that he had apparently thrown off during his pained slumber. Pulling it around his shoulders, he gathered himself to rise.

With a sharp grunt, the soldier finally made it to a standing position. Although his efforts were rewarded with a new wave of nausea, he felt that he was otherwise okay to continue and started making his way toward the source of the light.

After a few steps, Ashur reaffirmed his earlier conclusion that he was somehow underground as his hands brushed soft dirt and stones from the wall he used to steady himself.

He soon stopped with a mild curse, however, as his bare shuffling toes rammed into flagstone and his nose and forehead collided into an invisible wall. Confused, he raised his hands to push against whatever was keeping him confined.

Increasingly harder thumps with his fist failed to break down the unseen barrier and it was no more than two to three minutes before he had reached the limits of his depleted energy. The weary soldier momentarily considered calling out but decided that he was unable to deal with an unknown captor at the moment. He was tired, hungry, and, above all, thirsty. He let his legs curl up and sat down against the earthen wall. Laying over on his side, he closed his eyes and slept again.

Something brought him back to awareness some undetermined time later. He was wrapped back up in his meager blanket and had curled up against the wall in his sleep. His foggy mind told him that the feeling of being watched was what had woken him.

Ashur blearily turned his head to the invisible wall and his eyes widened, then narrowed as he saw a woman unceremoniously sitting with her legs crossed on the stones beyond the barrier. Her perturbed and disgusted expression did little to distort her striking features. He was slightly shocked to realize that those features, as well as the rest of her body he could see, were a dark blue hue that bordered on black with an underlying crimson tint that shifted with her expression. Her eyes appeared to follow along with her skin; sapphire with red tinting the inner circle of her irises.

She was smaller than him, but not by much from what he could tell from her sitting position; perhaps five nine or five ten. Her frame seemed to be healthy and athletic but had soft curves that might have given him certain urges had he not been in such a sorry state.

“Well”, she muttered. “At least you’re still alive. I wasn’t looking forward to having to dispose of a corpse somehow.”

Her chest thrust slightly forward as she pulled back her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. Although he couldn’t see the exact shape through the brown rough spun dress she was wearing, her breasts were tantalizingly well contoured. At first, he thought he might be able to comfortably hold one in each hand, but as she shifted her weight to stand, he could tell they were slightly larger than that.

Rising to her feet, she stood glaring down at him; her arms folded underneath her breasts. Not knowing what to say, he decided that laying where he was seemed to be the best option. His silence only seemed to make her more angry and she eventually began to tap her foot on the stone floor.

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”, she asked.

Moving his tongue around his mouth in an effort to bring some moisture to it, he gingerly sat up.

“I don’t suppose I could have some water, could I?” His voice cracked from the dryness in his throat.

“Water! After you... ! You! You!” She spluttered at him for a few more seconds and strode away from him. He expected the light to follow her, but soon came to realize that the illumination was coming from the stone walls themselves. He watched her storm off and was treated to the view of her curved hips and backside quivering faintly with each heavy stomp.

Ashur had no clue what he had done to upset his mysterious captor, but if she was anything like the other women he had known in his forty-plus years, she would probably be back to tell him ... at great length.

For a while, he tried to keep his eyes open; awaiting her return. Eventually, he had let them drift shut again. He awoke to a soft scraping sound in the dirt. He turned back to the outside of his apparent prison cell to see the woman waving two fingers in a vague sweeping gesture. There was a sparkle between them and he grasped that she was a mage of some sort. He would have to be wary around her as the mages he had served with in the army had been surly and guarded about their abilities.

Gazing up at her, he took note that her skin and eyes were no longer close to black, but had lightened to a deep blue. The crimson tint had disappeared as well. She huffed quietly; obviously annoyed and crossed her arms again.

“Were you actually thirsty or should I take that away?” Her azure eyes shifted to his left. Following her look, he noticed a bucket beside him. She had obviously deposited it while he was sleeping so she could re-establish her barrier without worrying about his reaction.

With his thirst driving him forward, he grabbed for the bucket and was just able to stop himself from gulping it down. He cursed his reaction as that of an un-trained rookie and began to take small mouthfuls of the cool water.

Once his immediate need was quenched, part of his mind wondered if she had put some kind of spell on the water, but soon realized that, as he was now, she could do what she liked without subterfuge. He set the bucket down with most of the water left sloshing inside. He would drink more in a few minutes when his stomach was able to handle it.

“Thank you.”, he said in a much clearer voice. He sat back and regarded his pretty jailor. Her exasperated expression had softened and he could see a hint of respect in her eyes at his control. It would seem that she had expected him to guzzle the water like some kind of animal and he had gained a few points in her eyes when he hadn’t.

“Where am I?”

Her annoyed face was back and a hint of red came with it.

“What do you mean?”, she demanded. “How do you not know where you are?”

He shrugged. “The last thing I remember is an engagement in heavy forest. By the pain I’m feeling, I’m fairly certain I was struck in the head. After that...” He shrugged again.

The red was definitely back now.

“Are you serious?”, she demanded.

Balling up her fists, she started stomping around in a small circle and shouting obscenities. He was confused by her anger but was enjoying the bounce of her chest. With his head clearing, he was able to take more note of her form and features as her tirade continued.

She was definitely beautiful. Even scrunched up in anger as they were, he began to wonder what it would be like to kiss her full lips. Her eyes, blue and red as they were, seemed to glow softly which entranced him even more. Her long hair, somehow the same shade as her skin, floated across her back and shoulders with her movements. From what he could see, it would be soft and fine flowing between his fingers.

Her invectives came to an abrupt halt when she noticed his appraising stare. For a split second, the red tint vanished completely to be replaced by a soft purple. Before he could fully register the change, the red was back and she turned her anger on him.

“Are you telling me that for the last three thousand years, I’ve been waiting for the destined one to arrive triumphantly at my doorstep and, instead, the first person I get to see is some barbarian who promptly pukes on me?!” She threw her hands up in the air and stalked off; muttering curses under her breath.

Ashur took the opportunity of her departure to take another few sips of water. He felt considerably better now and decided it was time to take stock of himself. He stood and gently began to feel his head and neck to confirm his earlier assumption of a head wound. He winced when his fingers found a tender lump behind his ear and a large cut underneath his coarse black hair where he had struck the stone during his un-remembered tumble into the ground.

He could feel various other bumps and bruises. Some he knew to be from the battle, others he could only assume were from his trip to this unknown place. Just as he was getting ready to sit down for more water, his captor returned. He could tell that her sour mood hadn’t diminished by the stiffness of her spine and the color of her skin.

Expecting more shouting, Ashur crossed his well-muscled arms, leaned against the dirt wall, and waited. He chuckled quietly to himself when she stopped abruptly. She had obviously not been paying attention in her ire and had missed the fact that he was no longer on the floor. Her eyes widened briefly as she grasped his stature and build. Chuckling again as she took her turn to unconsciously study his body, he stayed where he was and watched her scrutinize him. This time he definitely noticed the purple flush when she realized that she had been caught out doing the same thing she had lashed out at him for earlier. While she was fully clothed, he was still in his under garments which seemed to make her inspection all the more embarrassing for her.

“At least you’re standing.”, she grumbled half-heartedly. He could tell that she was trying to put some of her earlier anger into her voice, but it was obvious that surprise and the few moments of really looking at him had robbed her of it.

“I’m feeling better, thank you.”, he replied. “The water really helped. However, I’d like to ask again. Where am I and who are you?” Her eyes flashed for a moment, but then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her shoulders slumped as she waved her hand behind her. A tastefully elegant chair materialized a few feet away from the barrier. Ashur jumped a little but recovered quickly as the woman sat heavily and folded her hands into her lap.

With her anger gone, she almost seemed to be a young woman of twenty or so despite her earlier comment about waiting for three millennia. Hanging her head, she took a deep breath and then looked up at him. His estimation of her age disappeared entirely. She now had an timeless look that defied his attempts to guess.

“My name is Zomera although most people just call me Mera.” She trailed off for a moment with a lost look as though remembering something. “Well, most people used to. I actually haven’t been around “most people” for a long time. I am the caretaker of this place and have been for a longer than I’d like to think about.”

Her face crumpled and her skin took on a pale cobalt tone. She was silent for several minutes. He waited patiently as it seemed that she was lost in a memory or two. Eventually, she shook her head as if to clear it and spoke again.

“Sorry. You tend to forget that kind of loneliness after a while. Remembering faces caught me off guard.”

Squaring her shoulders, it looked as though Mera would start over. Instead, she continued on.

“During the second millennia of my youth, several catastrophic events happened in quick succession around the world. None of them were connected and all were as natural as could be, however the leaders of various nations felt it would be wise to store repositories of knowledge just in case. As it turned out, they were wise to do so.

For two hundred years, the major kingdoms and countries collected books, tales, instruction manuals, music, and any other form of records that might be deemed valuable to future generations. These collection centers became the reat Libraries and open to anyone who could read and write. They were marvels of architecture and magic; keeping untold numbers of manuscripts in a building that you could stroll across in less than fifteen minutes.”

Mera’s eyes had become bright and shining with the memory of such amazing accomplishments. Ashur might have had more difficulty believing her story if he had not been within arm’s length of such magic himself. As she continued, the light faded and her shoulders drooped again.

“Less than seventy years after the completion of the fifth and last Library, our world ended. None of us were certain of the cause, but city after city began to erupt in explosions and fire. Whole populations were wiped away. I do know that this last disaster was not of natural causes because only populated areas were affected. There were no reports of wild land or open spaces suffering from such damage.”

She was agitated now, exploding from her chair and pacing back and forth; obviously caught up in her own tale.

“Six months after the first reports came in, we received word that two of the other Libraries had somehow been destroyed. We were baffled as the Libraries had been built to withstand magical and demonic attacks of all kinds.”

Turning to face him with wild eyes, she threw up a hand with three fingers raised.

“Less than a month later, the third Library was gone. We sent our agents to discover the method of their destruction, but none of them ever made it back. Day after day we wracked our brains to find some way to prevent the last two from annihilation.”

Ashur held up a hand to get her attention.

“Who is “We”?”

He kept the question short so as to minimize the interruption. His attempt failed. Mera stopped her pacing, slumped against a stone wall, and slid down until she was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest; hugging them close. Her past was obviously an emotional subject and Ashur was taken aback by the rapidity of her mood shifts. Minutes before, she had been animated and driven. Now, curled up to the wall, she was withdrawn and despondent.

“I am the last of the Tibori.”, she said quietly. “We were one of the original five races of humanoid to have been created by the gods. The other four have all but gone extinct. There was a group of around twenty of us Tibori left. We helped design, curate, and protect the Libraries.

Traryn, Davsin, Galemir, and Jinviel were lost with the first one. Linhera, Iserien, and Tefheira went with the second. I don’t know who we lost with the third. By that time, three of us were ensconced here trying to protect this one.

My partner, Colphon, and our leader, Eshava, gave the last of their energies to the magics that buried the Library deep under the earth. As far as I know, the last Library was lost with the capital city of Epidour although I have never been able to confirm that.”

Mera heaved another sigh and climbed back to her feet. She had been staring off into the distance and her past, but now gently turned to the man presently standing before her.

“So, now I have answered your questions. I would ask of you and your story, but I have still not decided what to do with you. I give you my word that I will not immediately kill you or abandon you to starve, but you will be staying here for the moment. I suggest you rest and recover from your wounds. Head injuries tend to take their own sweet time healing.”

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. 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.