Caelan chuckled. “With Auretheos, it’s hard to say what’s random and what’s calculated. Sometimes both. There’s… a lot I haven’t told you about him. But that can wait. Now that introductions are over, we’ll head inside, finish the formalities, and then I’ll take you up to the Lodge. I imagine you’re ready for a proper meal and a long bath.”
“Desperately,” I muttered, shooting one last glance at the temple door.
I started following Caelan through the big double doors. As they closed behind us, all natural light was cast out at once. Before me lay the largest hallway I had ever seen, with endless shelves stacked alongside the walls all the way up to the high stone ceiling. The shelves were filled with paper scrolls and thick stacks of parchment, their edges yellowed with age.
“Wow, this is breathtaking,” I whispered, not daring to speak any louder.
Caelan looked around, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It truly is. I have lived here nearly all my life, but I still get excited every time I enter the library. The candles illuminating the place are lit by magic—they burn withoutheat or smoke, so they can’t harm the paper. The temple was built into the mountain to protect the ancient scrolls and books kept here from outside influence.”
My gaze climbed toward the highest shelves, dizzyingly far above us. “How do you even reach the scrolls up there?”
Caelan chuckled softly. “We don’t. The sentinels who serve here simply request the title they need, and the library provides it. The magic isn’t ours, it’s woven into the stone itself. The shelves listen. The books remember. When called, they come.”
As if to prove his point, he spoke a word I didn’t recognize. A moment later, a single scroll slid free from a high shelf, floating gracefully through the air before settling into his open hand. I stared, wide-eyed, as the air shimmered faintly where it had passed.
Priests rushed past us, wearing the same robes as Caelan. While most of them seemed to intentionally stare at the floor while walking past, I couldn’t help but notice that one particularly good-looking chap was openly grinning at Caelan, who cheekily winked at him.
Caelan stopped in front of some double doors leading into a room to the left of the hallway. He knocked, and Auretheos’ deep voice boomed from within: “You may enter.”
We stepped inside and my breath faltered, because before me lay the grandest library I had ever seen. On my travels around the continent, I had visited my fair share of museums and libraries, but this archive surely held more books and artifacts than all the cultural sights on the mortal continent combined. While the library in Rivermond had been stuffy and had smelled of old feet, this place was astonishing.
In the heart of this vast library was a grand, circular room.The ceiling arching high above was adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures, celestial bodies, and ancient runes that seem to shimmer faintly with their own internal light.
The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, packed with books of every size, color, and age imaginable. Ladders on rails provided access to the higher shelves, each one crafted from polished wood with ornate, gold-leaf detailing. In place of windows, the room was illuminated by large, floating orbs of light suspended in midair at various points throughout the room. The orbs emitted a warm, soft glow that perfectly mimicked the golden light of a late afternoon.
The floor was made of dark, richly stained wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen but covered in plush, jewel-toned rugs that added warmth and color. Scattered around the room were several large, overstuffed armchairs and couches, upholstered in deep burgundy and emerald velvet, inviting visitors to sink in and lose themselves in a good book. Small, elegant side tables stood beside each seating area, some of them with stacks of books atop of them. The centerpiece of the room was a massive, circular desk made from a single piece of ancient, dark oak, its surface covered in a rich tapestry of maps, manuscripts, and inkwells. The desk was large enough to accommodate several scholars working together, with plenty of space for books, scrolls, and other materials. It was surrounded by high-backed chairs, each one carved with intricate designs and upholstered in the same deep velvet as the armchairs.
The scent of aged paper, leather, and a hint of incense lingered in the air. Despite the grandeur of the space, it felt remarkably cozy.
Auretheos was seated at the grand table in the center of the room, surrounded by stacks of dusty tomes and ancient scrolls, all of which made him look… wildly out of place. His broad shoulders and unfairly sculpted face didn’t exactly scream “bookworm.” Honestly, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a war epic, not elbow-deep in parchment.
Without so much as glancing up, he gestured for us to approach. Then, because apparently he could hear my thoughts or had impeccable comedic timing, he slowly reached for a pair of glasses and slid them on. Theatrically. I half expected him to wink.
I clasped my hands behind my back like a schoolgirl summoned to the principal’s office and tiptoed closer, careful not to touch a single priceless relic.
Then, without a greeting or even a basic “hello,” he stood up and said,
“Can you read, Madam?”
I blinked.
Excuse me?
“Of course I can read, sir,” I replied, keeping my tone on the safe side of snippy.
Caelan, standing beside me, made a valiant effort to contain his laughter.
Auretheos didn’t flinch. “I haven’t visited the human realm in centuries. Forgive me if I’m unfamiliar with the intricacies of your world.”
“The God of Wisdom doesn’t know if humans can read?” I shot back before my brain could catch up with my mouth. “I thought you knew everything.”
Silence.
I would’ve sold my soul to snatch those words outof the air. This wasn’t like me. Not anymore. I knew not to anger a man and surely not a living, breathing God.
Caelan outright snorted now. Auretheos gave him a look so sharp it could have flayed skin. Without a word, Caelan held up his hands in surrender and retreated to one of the sofas lining the room.
Terrifyingly, Auretheos turned his full attention to me. “I have read every book in this library,” he said, tone patient but firm. “I have knowledge of many things. But I will never make the mistake of assuming I know everything.Thatis true wisdom.”
