Searing 69th, 121. The Greater Institute, Zaichaer
A day at the greenhouse, a night at the bar, and now the library to study until sunrise. Jane's eyes burned and her muscles ached as she fought back fatigue, squinting at the fine printed numbers along the spines of the hundreds of tomes that filled the vast shelves. She sluggishly pulled along the wheeled ladder, referring to her notes regarding specific classifications for certain texts. By now she had remembered most of the basic class numbers that were relevant to her field of study, but it was still faster to have a librarian locate materials for her. Unfortunately, no such librarian was available at this hour. Only a guard stood at the door, providing security and requiring the signatures of students and faculty in a guestbook as they entered and left.
Judging by this log, she looked to be the only one here, but it was just as likely that her eyes had failed her. She took off her spectacles and rubbed her face, feeling somewhat dehydrated. Water after studying, she decided. It was a nice incentive and something to look forward to by morning. The windows were pitch black, dotted by the faint lights thrown off by the lanterns outside and the sconces within. Had her senses not been so dimmed, the atmosphere would be eerie, but the dim light and the faint creaking that punctuated the pervasive silence did not phase her. Instead, it was almost comforting, making it even more difficult to stay alert. Perhaps she'd treat herself to a cup of black tea with cream and honey when she woke up from her pre-class nap later on.
Jane had passed by the books she was searching for a few times before she was able to locate them. Pulling them off the shelves, she inspected the covers. Aetheric Adaptations in Common Beasts. Defining the Mundane in Mutagenesis. Fantastic Taxonomy of Divergent Species. Sighing in relief, she sat down at the nearest table and turned the knob on her oil lamp, spreading a bright, warm light that was suitable for reading. She opened the first book she had found and was greeted by the title page in Vallenor. While the cover had been translated, the main body had not, a somewhat common but annoying trend in academia. Many scholars thought that this preserved the “integrity” of the text, but Jane considered it to be an archaic practice that no longer had a place in the modern world. Still, she understood Vallenor and while Common was easier to digest, she could reasonably absorb the content with little issue.
As she copied her notes, she came across a sentence that made little sense in context. It seemed oddly poetic and somewhat vague, making for an awkward translation. An annotation floated next to this sentence and she referred to the key, a modern addition printed in Common.
“45-- “there exists no sieve so fine...”: Kaltrex Len'Arka's The Purities of Aether 256. A sieve is used to make the distinction between the differences in tangibility of pure and impure aether.
It did not elaborate any further. Vallenor texts were infamously rife with references to other scholars, writers, and artists, sometimes to the point of having little meaning as a self-contained body of work. Jane tapped the page impatiently, thinking of what to do next. Exploring this further might lead her down a never ending rabbit hole of allusions upon allusions, resulting wasted time and subjects far removed from the source. She had found herself in that position before and was in no mood to risk it again. Still, her curiosity was piqued. Jane copied the title and author's name and ventured back into imposing rows of shelves.
Finding the book proved to be a challenge, so much so that Jane wondered if the library even carried it. Perhaps it had been borrowed; If so, there was no way she could have know. She sorely lamented the absence of a librarian, but pressed forward. More time had been devoted to this search than she had wanted, but the investment she had already made and the sheer elusiveness of the text made her determined to find it. Exhausting all categories related to the sciences and paranaturalism, she eventually found it under philosophy. The satisfaction of locating the book was vastly outweighed by her frustration at it's assumed irrelevance, but after all the effort she had put into finding it she took it with her.
Tossing the book on the table, she set aside the text that had prompted her search and went to studying the other two. Thankfully, one was in Common and was far more pragmatic in it's language. Vallenor was beautiful, nuanced, and poignant, but such artistry had little place in serious scientific research as far as Jane was concerned. Knowledge was no longer the tightly contained and jealously guarded asset that it had once been, restricted to only the most educated individuals. This was the Age of Steel, a time of progress and rebirth, and the distribution of knowledge was vital to all races of Ransera in overcoming the shackles of the past that weighed them down.
Having found herself in a particularly dry section of Defining the Mundane in Mutagenesis, she glanced over at The Purities of Aether. Her attention wavering, Jane decided that a short diversion would help her focus. She opened the book and scanned the foreword. The edition was old but the text was ancient, a collection of musings from a philosopher from the Age of Conquest. A feeling of reverence overcame Jane and she tenderly smoothed the pages, ashamed of her prior attitude and treatment towards the book. She began to skim the pages, searching for the number referenced in the annotation. Finally, she found it, and began to read:
A mountain stands powerful, impressive to mortal eyes. We seek mastery over its form and all the secrets stored within. Its trees are felled, its ore stripped out, its gems captured sieve through sieve. It's essence, though, remains untouched. There exists no sieve so fine that can trap those grains of sand. Aether is much the same. With runes and symbols we grasp the purest energies, but those below are moved only by consequence. It's crudest form is constant and unchanged, the bedrock which holds life and form.
Jane mentally sifted through this excerpt, finally copying it down in her notes. She considered how it could relate to the expressions of Aetheric abilities in animals. Her mind hazy, she decided to return to this when she was more alert and could fully digest the connection being made. Exhausted, she idly pressed the back of her hand against the surface of the table. It was cool to the touch. She laid her head on the desk and savored the feeling of it against her cheek. A short rest would not hurt, Jane decided. Five or ten minutes at most, if only to refresh her mind.
Sleep struck her brutally and she lazily stirred as what felt like a large hand gently shook her. It reminded her very much of being awoken in the mornings by an old caretaker she had at the Farraway estate. Dazed, she relived this memory in waking dream.
“No, Nanna, not yet...”, Jane murmured. She cracked open an eye to see a library filled with the faint light of morning. Suddenly realizing she had slept away the remainder of the night, she shot up in her seat, knocking what felt like her spectacles off the table. The sharp clattering on the floor confirmed this.
“Oh! I'm sorry. I did not mean to startle you...”, a voice responded. It was very low, slightly hollow, but clearly feminine.
At her side was a huge figure, darkened by shadow against the dull sunrise. It's features were blurred by Jane's poor vision, making it appear all the more menacing. She shrieked and lunged back, shocked by this unknown, hulking phantom.
“No, no, please! It's alright!”, the figure said, bending over and offering something to Jane. She recognized the glint of glass as her spectacles, held by a hand that now appeared to be flesh. She accepted them hesitantly and soon had a clear view of the person speaking to her.
Before her stood what looked to be a young Moratallen woman. Her large, timid doe-like eyes were offset by a strong jaw and framed by a curtain of brown hair that was as long as Jane was tall. She smiled weakly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I'm so sorry, I hope your glasses aren't damaged”, the giantess said.
“No, no—they're fine”, Jane said, adjusting them on her nose. She looked at the Moratallen, briefly puzzled by her presence in the library.
“What are you doing here?”, she asked incredulously.
“Oh...”, the woman withdrew, her hair falling to the side of her face, “I'm a student. My name is Tagrir. I study Geology.”
“I see, well”, Jane stood up, looking over the sprawling mess of papers and books that covered the table, “I apologize, I have not seen you here before.” The fact that a half-giant was attending the Institute was hard to digest, much less one that had attracted such little attention.
“I like to study when no one else is in the library”, Tagrir said, seeming to anticipate the confusion,. “It's easier that way. I take most of my classes in the morning—or the evening, so I doubt we've shared one together.”
“Indeed”, Jane replied, smoothing her skirt. She began to collect her things, wishing to leave as soon as possible.
“I think I've seen you before, over in the Knob. My clan lives in the Old Mines, but I visit the Bulge a lot for business. You work at one of the bars over there, right?”, Tagrir asked somewhat reluctantly.
“No”, Jane answered abruptly. It was clear in both her expression and tone that she had told an obvious lie. A lingering silence sat between them before Tagrir spoke.
“Well—sorry again to bother you”, the Moratallen said, turning to walk away.
“Wait...it's fine.”, Jane began to regret her own rudeness and raised a hand, stopping Tagrir before she left, “I'm glad you woke me. I've no idea how long I would have slept if you had not. My whole day might have been ruined”, She was then overcome by a powerful yawn. Tagrir watched her with some concern.
“Are you alright?”, the giantess asked.
“Yes—just overworked, but that's my own fault,” Jane replied, “Anyway, I must be going. Perhaps I'll see you later.”
“Perhaps”, Hagrir smiled weakly, “Take care of yourself.”
Jane nodded and gathered the last of her notes, tucking them neatly into a stack. She placed all the books she had been studying onto the library cart, save for one. The Purities of Aether. While it was not part of the curriculum, she felt it deserved further attention. At the very least it should make for some interesting reading. That would have to be come later as the thought of black tea dominated Jane's thoughts, promising to chase away her remaining fatigue as the new day began.
A day at the greenhouse, a night at the bar, and now the library to study until sunrise. Jane's eyes burned and her muscles ached as she fought back fatigue, squinting at the fine printed numbers along the spines of the hundreds of tomes that filled the vast shelves. She sluggishly pulled along the wheeled ladder, referring to her notes regarding specific classifications for certain texts. By now she had remembered most of the basic class numbers that were relevant to her field of study, but it was still faster to have a librarian locate materials for her. Unfortunately, no such librarian was available at this hour. Only a guard stood at the door, providing security and requiring the signatures of students and faculty in a guestbook as they entered and left.
Judging by this log, she looked to be the only one here, but it was just as likely that her eyes had failed her. She took off her spectacles and rubbed her face, feeling somewhat dehydrated. Water after studying, she decided. It was a nice incentive and something to look forward to by morning. The windows were pitch black, dotted by the faint lights thrown off by the lanterns outside and the sconces within. Had her senses not been so dimmed, the atmosphere would be eerie, but the dim light and the faint creaking that punctuated the pervasive silence did not phase her. Instead, it was almost comforting, making it even more difficult to stay alert. Perhaps she'd treat herself to a cup of black tea with cream and honey when she woke up from her pre-class nap later on.
Jane had passed by the books she was searching for a few times before she was able to locate them. Pulling them off the shelves, she inspected the covers. Aetheric Adaptations in Common Beasts. Defining the Mundane in Mutagenesis. Fantastic Taxonomy of Divergent Species. Sighing in relief, she sat down at the nearest table and turned the knob on her oil lamp, spreading a bright, warm light that was suitable for reading. She opened the first book she had found and was greeted by the title page in Vallenor. While the cover had been translated, the main body had not, a somewhat common but annoying trend in academia. Many scholars thought that this preserved the “integrity” of the text, but Jane considered it to be an archaic practice that no longer had a place in the modern world. Still, she understood Vallenor and while Common was easier to digest, she could reasonably absorb the content with little issue.
As she copied her notes, she came across a sentence that made little sense in context. It seemed oddly poetic and somewhat vague, making for an awkward translation. An annotation floated next to this sentence and she referred to the key, a modern addition printed in Common.
“45-- “there exists no sieve so fine...”: Kaltrex Len'Arka's The Purities of Aether 256. A sieve is used to make the distinction between the differences in tangibility of pure and impure aether.
It did not elaborate any further. Vallenor texts were infamously rife with references to other scholars, writers, and artists, sometimes to the point of having little meaning as a self-contained body of work. Jane tapped the page impatiently, thinking of what to do next. Exploring this further might lead her down a never ending rabbit hole of allusions upon allusions, resulting wasted time and subjects far removed from the source. She had found herself in that position before and was in no mood to risk it again. Still, her curiosity was piqued. Jane copied the title and author's name and ventured back into imposing rows of shelves.
Finding the book proved to be a challenge, so much so that Jane wondered if the library even carried it. Perhaps it had been borrowed; If so, there was no way she could have know. She sorely lamented the absence of a librarian, but pressed forward. More time had been devoted to this search than she had wanted, but the investment she had already made and the sheer elusiveness of the text made her determined to find it. Exhausting all categories related to the sciences and paranaturalism, she eventually found it under philosophy. The satisfaction of locating the book was vastly outweighed by her frustration at it's assumed irrelevance, but after all the effort she had put into finding it she took it with her.
Tossing the book on the table, she set aside the text that had prompted her search and went to studying the other two. Thankfully, one was in Common and was far more pragmatic in it's language. Vallenor was beautiful, nuanced, and poignant, but such artistry had little place in serious scientific research as far as Jane was concerned. Knowledge was no longer the tightly contained and jealously guarded asset that it had once been, restricted to only the most educated individuals. This was the Age of Steel, a time of progress and rebirth, and the distribution of knowledge was vital to all races of Ransera in overcoming the shackles of the past that weighed them down.
Having found herself in a particularly dry section of Defining the Mundane in Mutagenesis, she glanced over at The Purities of Aether. Her attention wavering, Jane decided that a short diversion would help her focus. She opened the book and scanned the foreword. The edition was old but the text was ancient, a collection of musings from a philosopher from the Age of Conquest. A feeling of reverence overcame Jane and she tenderly smoothed the pages, ashamed of her prior attitude and treatment towards the book. She began to skim the pages, searching for the number referenced in the annotation. Finally, she found it, and began to read:
A mountain stands powerful, impressive to mortal eyes. We seek mastery over its form and all the secrets stored within. Its trees are felled, its ore stripped out, its gems captured sieve through sieve. It's essence, though, remains untouched. There exists no sieve so fine that can trap those grains of sand. Aether is much the same. With runes and symbols we grasp the purest energies, but those below are moved only by consequence. It's crudest form is constant and unchanged, the bedrock which holds life and form.
Jane mentally sifted through this excerpt, finally copying it down in her notes. She considered how it could relate to the expressions of Aetheric abilities in animals. Her mind hazy, she decided to return to this when she was more alert and could fully digest the connection being made. Exhausted, she idly pressed the back of her hand against the surface of the table. It was cool to the touch. She laid her head on the desk and savored the feeling of it against her cheek. A short rest would not hurt, Jane decided. Five or ten minutes at most, if only to refresh her mind.
Sleep struck her brutally and she lazily stirred as what felt like a large hand gently shook her. It reminded her very much of being awoken in the mornings by an old caretaker she had at the Farraway estate. Dazed, she relived this memory in waking dream.
“No, Nanna, not yet...”, Jane murmured. She cracked open an eye to see a library filled with the faint light of morning. Suddenly realizing she had slept away the remainder of the night, she shot up in her seat, knocking what felt like her spectacles off the table. The sharp clattering on the floor confirmed this.
“Oh! I'm sorry. I did not mean to startle you...”, a voice responded. It was very low, slightly hollow, but clearly feminine.
At her side was a huge figure, darkened by shadow against the dull sunrise. It's features were blurred by Jane's poor vision, making it appear all the more menacing. She shrieked and lunged back, shocked by this unknown, hulking phantom.
“No, no, please! It's alright!”, the figure said, bending over and offering something to Jane. She recognized the glint of glass as her spectacles, held by a hand that now appeared to be flesh. She accepted them hesitantly and soon had a clear view of the person speaking to her.
Before her stood what looked to be a young Moratallen woman. Her large, timid doe-like eyes were offset by a strong jaw and framed by a curtain of brown hair that was as long as Jane was tall. She smiled weakly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I'm so sorry, I hope your glasses aren't damaged”, the giantess said.
“No, no—they're fine”, Jane said, adjusting them on her nose. She looked at the Moratallen, briefly puzzled by her presence in the library.
“What are you doing here?”, she asked incredulously.
“Oh...”, the woman withdrew, her hair falling to the side of her face, “I'm a student. My name is Tagrir. I study Geology.”
“I see, well”, Jane stood up, looking over the sprawling mess of papers and books that covered the table, “I apologize, I have not seen you here before.” The fact that a half-giant was attending the Institute was hard to digest, much less one that had attracted such little attention.
“I like to study when no one else is in the library”, Tagrir said, seeming to anticipate the confusion,. “It's easier that way. I take most of my classes in the morning—or the evening, so I doubt we've shared one together.”
“Indeed”, Jane replied, smoothing her skirt. She began to collect her things, wishing to leave as soon as possible.
“I think I've seen you before, over in the Knob. My clan lives in the Old Mines, but I visit the Bulge a lot for business. You work at one of the bars over there, right?”, Tagrir asked somewhat reluctantly.
“No”, Jane answered abruptly. It was clear in both her expression and tone that she had told an obvious lie. A lingering silence sat between them before Tagrir spoke.
“Well—sorry again to bother you”, the Moratallen said, turning to walk away.
“Wait...it's fine.”, Jane began to regret her own rudeness and raised a hand, stopping Tagrir before she left, “I'm glad you woke me. I've no idea how long I would have slept if you had not. My whole day might have been ruined”, She was then overcome by a powerful yawn. Tagrir watched her with some concern.
“Are you alright?”, the giantess asked.
“Yes—just overworked, but that's my own fault,” Jane replied, “Anyway, I must be going. Perhaps I'll see you later.”
“Perhaps”, Hagrir smiled weakly, “Take care of yourself.”
Jane nodded and gathered the last of her notes, tucking them neatly into a stack. She placed all the books she had been studying onto the library cart, save for one. The Purities of Aether. While it was not part of the curriculum, she felt it deserved further attention. At the very least it should make for some interesting reading. That would have to be come later as the thought of black tea dominated Jane's thoughts, promising to chase away her remaining fatigue as the new day began.