“You did this so you could read more?” Skate asked in disbelief. “That’s why you magicked away hunger and sleep and all that?”
Belamy’s expression shifted from thoughtful to amused. “No, that’s not why. I needed full use of my time, and then when my task was done, I needed to fill my time. The books became a useful occupation. Now they are how I pass my time, with Rattle and any other guests.” As if on cue, Rattle banged another pot, and a splash could be heard through the door.
“What did you need all that time for? What was so important?”
Belamy grew stony-faced; though he kept his smile, it hardened somewhat. “I had my reasons. There’s no need to say more than that.”
Skate shifted weight back and forth on her feet. She could feel the discomfort settling in the room like a wet blanket in the summer heat, stifling and smothering. More to change the subject than out of curiosity, she asked, “What’s that about?”
Belamy saw that she was pointing to the open book on his desk. “Ah. It’s a history generally known as Bereziah’s Chronicles, from the first line of the text: ‘Here follow the chronicles of Bereziah, servant and protector of King Mehu of Agonia.’ That’s a translation, of course; the Agonianites didn’t speak or write in our language.”
“Those are funny names,” Skate said, looking at the text. It looped and swirled, like it was all written without taking the quill from the surface of the page.
“I’m sure they’d have something to say about ‘Skate’ and ‘Barrison’ in return,” Belamy said with a chuckle. “But yes, the names seem strange to us. Much of what the elves left for us to ponder seems strange.”
“Elves?” Skate repeated, her voice and face revealing her disbelief. “There’s no such thing as elves; they’re just stories made up to scare kids and stuff.”
“No, not at all! They’re very real. Or they were real, rather. They left ruins behind, and books,” Belamy said, tapping the page in front of him, “and tools, too. Yes, they did really walk among us at some point in the distant past. It is believed that everything we know of magic either came from the elves or was developed from what they left us. Their records are real, and that means they must have been real, too.”
“Did you ever see one?” Skate asked. She wasn’t fully convinced, but the mention of the elves sparked wonder, and she was curious despite her misgivings.
“Oh, no,” he said, chuckling, “no, I never have seen one; nor has anyone in living memory. Even when I was a boy, a century ago, they were the stuff of ancient legend. Scholars like me are divided on just how long ago they were around; it could be as recently as the past five hundred years, but I’m of the opinion that they disappeared well over a thousand years ago. Most mentions of them after that point smack of invention rather than recollection, details added to stories to make them more interesting.”
“What happened to them? Where’d they go?”
“We don’t know. It’s one of the great mysteries of those who study elven histories. No contemporary records exist explaining where the elves might have gone, and there are no writings that warn of some dire impending doom that only made the elves disappear. King Mehu,” he said, motioning to the book in front of him, “was not the last of the Agonianite line, since this account lists several offspring and potential heirs to the throne. But this is the last known record of that kingdom’s goings-on. I haven’t read to the end, but I know there won’t be a direct explanation for any forthcoming ‘end of the elves’; I’ve talked to other scholars who have read it, and they’ve told me as much.”
“So…they just disappeared?”
“They did. We don’t know if they all packed up and traveled or were destroyed or something else entirely. We’ve never seen any of their physical remains, which deepens the mystery further, since we’ve had access for centuries to burial sites they built to stand the test of time. The structures themselves are relatively intact and resistant to the forces of nature and ravages of the centuries, and many treasures have been found within, but no bodies. This, despite the placement of receptacles for corpses being present. The old bodies are just gone. As I said, it’s one of the great mysteries to those who study history.”
“You said they invented magic?”
“Yes! Well, I’d say they discovered it more than invented it, but it comes out to the same thing.” Belamy gestured toward one of his shelves, causing a book to float his way. “This,” he said, spinning the green book slowly in the air, as if it were suspended on an invisible string, “is one of the most basic texts aspiring wizards are almost universally required to read as part of their education. It details what magic is and how to capture it for useful purposes, and it even lists specific spells for beginning wizards to learn. It’s a translation from Elvish. The anonymous author of the book is largely responsible for magic as we know it for at least the past thousand years.”
Skate gingerly took the book from the air. There were letters on the front of the book and on the side. “Just reading this can teach someone magic?”
“If the reader grasps what she’s reading, yes, she will gain enough knowledge to enter into a larger world of energies and forces most people only whisper about.” Belamy looked at Skate with a knowing smile.
Skate put the book down on the desk a little harder than she meant to in her rush to separate herself from what suddenly felt very dangerous. “What’s happening in that story?” she asked, feeling herself blush as she rapidly changed the subject back to the other book.
Belamy’s smile widened somewhat. “The company of Bereziah is on a quest to stop a war with a rival elven nation. Bereziah seems to believe that this other nation, the Kemelite nation, has misunderstood some action of King Mehu and is preparing for war because of it. They’re currently crossing a mountain range and have lost some of their number. The author is taking note of available food stocks, and is expressing concerns about their ability to cross the mountains.”
Skate thought for a moment about the events described. “Sounds kinda boring.”
Belamy chuckled. “I suppose it probably would be for someone with no interest in the topic. But do you know what I’ve found?” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “If you attempt to become interested in things, they become more interesting. And,” he added, pointing an accusatory finger Skate’s way, his face suddenly stern, “people who have interests in things are themselves more interesting. Have you ever met someone who thinks everything is dull? They’re miserable to be around!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Don’t let your hesitancy or disinterest linger, young lady. People who do that become unbearable and find no joy in anything.” He settled into a more relaxed position again. “I’ve known people like this, Skate. I’d hate to see you get that way. It would be an absolute waste of your potential.”
Skate found herself frowning. She didn’t like being scolded. “It sounds like you just don’t like your dumb book being made fun of.” Before Belamy could respond, she turned and bolted out the door. It slammed shut behind her as she stepped into the cold winter street.