“Please, we would only take up a few minutes of your time,” I begged, crossing my fingers that Gavori was more open than her brother.
“All right. You may follow me to the library.”
The hologram stayed with Gavori’s sibling as we followed her down the hall. Rufian whispered his plan in my ear as softly as he could, suggesting that the fae home was never without eavesdroppers. Rather playing it safe than sorry, I didn’t ask any questions, and as soon as Gavori led us to the library, Rufian went into action.
“What a collection!” he admired, the library being three stories high. Books upon books lined the shelves, some of the spines along the rows catching my quick attention. The area was well lit, unlike the other room we had been in.
While the scent of old parchment filled the air, the corner of my eye kept on the curiosity of the fake traveling priest turned fake grievance counselor. Rufian pretended to browse their category while I observed Gavori leading me to a separate room that looked like a parlor.
I wasn’t sure if lingering behind was part of Rufian’s plan, but I was beginning to think that he was legit being nosy and searching for something juicy.
“Now I heard Nicott was a scholarly man, right?”
Gavori nodded, pivoting around to Rufian behind us. “That is right. He loved his books, very into our history as a nation and the starting forces of this dragging war. You could say that he was somewhat of a historian. Nicott had been working on a project for months before his untimely passing. He was attempting to uncover the true origins of our nation and how the war truly began. He believed that there was something deeper at play, something that had been hidden from us all.”
“Like what?” I asked, very interested.
“Conspiracies. I don’t know much about the topic to really tell you. All I know was that he was obsessed about finding a sure way to win the war that didn’t involve the High Order of Fae. The Trinity, or, three connections to our dungeon core was his target. The Stone’s Path, The Tree of New Beginnings, and The River of Life.”
The Trinity? Where have I heard that before?
“He believed that if he could locate them, that they could somehow be a substitute for collecting her shields. He thought that as fae we would harness its power and bypass the curses that’d come with using the Grimoire.”
Rufian chuckled lightheartedly. “What a hopeful man! I truly wish that he was onto something. Mavriel is straining their resources, and the longer this war persists, the less vibrant our future appears.”
“I couldn’t agree more. And his sudden passing. I don’t know… something about it feels unnatural. It was spontaneous. My brother was a very healthy man, then all of a sudden, he was plagued with a deadly bacterium that quickly ate him from the inside out.”
“Had he been out somewhere recently?” I asked her
“Out in the mountains of Pituti foraging for rare metals. It was part of his project. His journals are right where you’re standing, Rigs.”
“Ah, yes, there are plenty of volumes here to keep anyone’s afternoon busy!” Rufian chuckled. “I’d assume for a man with such a vast interest in literature that his resting place reflected his passions?”
“His resting place? Nicott was cremated. His urn is on his desk on the second floor.”
“How honorable!” Rufian beamed. For a second I could tell he’d forgotten he was here for Gavori and not for the ashes, the way his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah, my lady, if you can be so kind as to point me in the direction of your restroom? I made the mistake of indulging in four cups of tea earlier,” he said, chuckling bashfully.
Gavori smiled. “Sure. Go all the way down, make a left, and it’s the third door to your right.”
He bowed respectfully. “Thank you. I will not be long.”
“In the meantime, would you mind talking with me, solo?” I asked Gavori and she nodded.
Gavori motioned for me to sit. I took a seat on one of the plush chairs in the separate sitting room, making myself comfortable. Playing the part, I sat straight, acting as professional as I could. I knew nothing about being a grief counselor, but I knew it would have been something nice to have when I was going through my own emotions when Mom had died. Despite Gavori not knowing I’d met her before, I felt like I had to at least try to help her out. After all, I still hadn’t recovered her boyfriend, and I understood what it felt like to lose someone close to you.
Gavori made for the end of the room to the mini bar, pouring herself a drink before she turned around and asked me, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Ah yes, I’ll take water if you have it.”
“Is sparkling okay?”
“Sure.”
She settled my glass on a saucer on the coffee table, then took a seat with her golden brown alcoholic drink across from me.
“I appreciate it, thanks!”
“So how long have you been a counselor?”
“Ten years.” More like ten minutes…
“Doesn’t it burden you? Having to hear everyone’s problems?”
“Not at all. I take joy in hearing and helping people out. It gives my life purpose. Gavori, a lot of people don't believe in the art of talking. It's so easy to lock things up and let them brew inside. It's easier to brush feelings off just to get that sense of normality back again. But honestly all you're doing is pouring fuel into the fire, until one day, the fire gets too hot, and it explodes, burning down the walls with it. You break down, and you feel like you need to escape. Now I know Nicott passed away recently. My condolences. I knew little about him, but I do know how it feels to struggle through the death of a loved one."
She smiled. “You know, he wasn't even my favorite brother, but it still hurts. I barely knew him. He invested a lot of his time where we are right now. In books, studying, learning. He was always so distant, so focused on his work. I wish we could have connected more before he died.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” I said warmly. “But maybe it's not too late to make a connection. I've found that sometimes the best way to honor the memory of a loved one is to keep their passion alive. If Nicott loved books and learning, maybe you can take his torch and continue his work.”
She looked at me thoughtfully, then took a sip of her drink. “I never thought of it that way. Maybe you're right. Maybe I can honor him by doing something he loved. But, I’m not very smart. I do love to read and write but I’m more of an image of beauty, a symbol of Mavriel’s superficial standards.”
I chuckled. “Well, I haven’t met many unpleasant looking women in Mavriel. I’d say you can take a break and do the things you love.”
She broke out in a soft giggle. It wasn’t much but it was a start. I could see the sparkle in her eyes as she thought about it, and then she admitted, “I thought about running away…”
“Really?”
“Yeah. With a man I love…” She looked up her glass at me and squinted. “This conversation stays with us, right?”
