The Rapheus: Meras Lore (tentative)

Chapter Three: Enter Cassandra

The clock struck eleven. Lionel couldn’t sleep. So many things were swirling inside his head. First thing was his stomach, rumbling piteously at regular intervals. The second was the fact that he was almost correct giving him a sleep dispelling tremor every time he believed that for one moment, he was actually right. The third, which troubled him immediately after the first two was the fact that demons did exist, something which made him exceedingly uncomfortable, thus sleep was again, impossible.

A whole hour went by before Lionel sat up in bed. Something was in his room. At first he thought it was his imagination. But then something brushed across his floor, spilling darkness into the dim light. Then it was gone from that spot, as if it had never been there.

The only sound was Lionel’s light quick gasps and the only feeling was the thud of his heart against his ribs. Then he heard it again, brushing nearer to his bed. He caught sight of it as it dissipated. It was a crimson color, the color of blood.

A chill wind blew out the candles, drenching the room in an inky darkness. It, whatever it was twirled out of the darkness like a wind funnel growing wider and taking shape shooting pitch-black threads of shadow out in every direction.

Lionel recoiled shoving himself back against the wall. Then a shadowy hand reached out and at that moment, Lionel lost any semblance of manhood and shrieked bloody murder.

He screamed for a full five minutes before Gerulf burst in, a rumpled mess as usual. The shadows withdrew for a minute like a figure looking over its shoulder momentarily distracted. When Gerulf saw this is threw up his hands angrily pushed a small switch near the door frame. The whole room filled with a soft blue blow, banishing all of the shadows except for a lone darkish figure clad in a long crimson overcoat.

“Cassandra!” Gerulf howled animatedly, “Did you have to scare the nice man to near petrification?” The shadow melted again and flowed formlessly over to Gerulf’s side.

“There is little to nothing I can do about whether your guests find me frightening or not,” An unruffled frigid voice murmured as it took definite shape next to Gerulf, its arms folded in cool irritation.

“Y-you,” Lionel waved a wobbly finger at the specter, “You attacked me! Me and that man…demon, whatever! Finch.”

“Attacked?” Gerulf chuckled, “She could have asked you to step into the box and gift wrap yourself from what she told me.”

Lionel felt so coldly alone. She wasn’t even backing him up, or Gerulf for that matter.

“Shut up,” She said quietly and then she turned her steely eyes on Lionel, “You’re frightening the nice man.” Gerulf looked slightly offended but not offended enough to argue and slowly padded off leaving Lionel alone with her.

“Cassandra?” Lionel asked still pasted against the wall. She acknowledged him with a slow nod.

“Ah, I see, so you work for Abner.” Again, a slow nod.

“Um, what were you doing in my room, in the middle of the night?” Lionel hoped she wouldn’t nod again.

“You weren’t asleep anyway.” Not a nod, but not exactly an answer. She continued, “Since Abner invited you to dinner and then forgot to feed you, I was going to ask whether you were hungry or not. This is my dinnertime.” Her skin was a pale chalk color and her mere presence made the room feel much colder, almost like a tomb.

“Oh, I’m sorry then. I didn’t mean to be frightened,” Lionel felt ridiculous for causing such a riot over a favor she was intending to do for him.

“No one ever means to be frightened,” was the cool enigmatic reply, whether it was an “I forgive you” remained a mystery. Cassandra turned to leave.

“So,” She said over he shoulder, “You hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Then follow me.” She instructed.

As Lionel uneasily found out, Cassandra was not one for conversation and he spent most of the time sitting in a dark side kitchen munching on some cold finger sandwiches. Although she’d said it was her dinnertime, she herself ate nothing. She just stood in the darkness and watched him, making Lionel feel more and more uncomfortable.

“Do you mind?” Lionel asked finally, after nearly choking on a roast beef sandwich under her glare. She complied wordlessly and blew noiselessly to a stool next to him.

“So,” Lionel began after a few more minutes of silence, “who is Abner? I mean, what is his group; his organization I stumbled on?”

“Do you know where you are?” She countered.

“No, not really,” Lionel replied.

“Above us is the Gathdon Library, the largest in the world at one time. This is the ancient librarian quarters when Librarians were soul bound to their bookcases until death. They were called Keepers and were gifted with extensive knowledge and certain powers. They were also secretly called the 13th Guild.” Cassandra seemed to think this was sufficient enough for now and waited a good ten minutes before speaking again, “Then Agrippa, the Great Pilgrim, founded Mezt. Built the largest library ever, and abolished soul binding. Those who had been bound too long could not be loosed and here they remained, trapped.”

“That’s a sad tale.”

“There have been worse.”

“So you’re saying that this is what’s left of the Keepers? The 13th Guild?”

“Abner likes to think so. Mr. Eliezer is the only direct descendant. Everyone else, pretends well. Even Abner.” Cassandra smirked.

“You included?”

Something reminiscent of a smile crept across her face. And then she was gone. As if she’d never been there. Lionel sat staring at the plate. One sandwich left.

* * *

In the morning, Gerulf came back in red eyed and grumpy and escorted Lionel to Abner’s study. Cassandra was already there.

“Ah, Mr. Puck, I’ve just heard about last night fireworks. I apologize for the inconvenience Cassandra might have caused you and for the general brouhaha over the matter. She has a taste for the dramatic. I often wonder whether she realizes when enough is enough.” Abner shot her a quick disapproving glance. Cassandra looked as sorry as a dead fish.

“No trouble at all,” Lionel shifting uncomfortably under her quiet gaze, “in fact, I was going to thank her for the dinner.”

“Dinner?” Abner looked suspiciously back at her. There was some unreadable amount of discontent accompanying his answer, though Lionel could only guess at what it was. Cassandra’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“It was sandwiches, Abner. Just sandwiches.” She wasn’t justifying anything, if anything it was a strong reassurance. Gerulf cleared his throat nervously in the silence that ensued.

“Well,” Abner said breezing off the subject effortlessly with a quick smile, “I’m sure you’re more curious about what we do here? You want to know more about us?”

“Very much so. Especially how I fit into all of this. The subject matter is very close to my heart as you can imagine.” Lionel said trying to seem diplomatic. Abner gave a short hand wave and both Gerulf and Cassandra exited quietly shutting the doors behind them.

“I assure you that we have the utmost respect for your work, Mr. Puck. You fit in because you know more about the mechanics of Meras than anyone else. I was wondering, exactly what does it do? There are many rumors and countless myths about the power Meras contains, but as for cold hard facts, there is little more than shapeless speculation.” Abner asked pulling a few books from some shelves at random.

“Well, from what I’ve learned, it could do almost anything, conforming to the users particular desires. Although, I’m not sure of the limits of the matter. There is only so much a lifeless material can do. I suppose the user must have some alchemy training. It’s a solid manifestation of spirit matter. Extremely malleable, easily melting and hardening, but as much as you heat it, it won’t go to a gas, because then, it’d have to return to the spirit form and it take a special fire to do that. I imagine that the gaseous state must be it’s most potent form,” Lionel mused out loud.

“ It’s more than I know, and it’s more that Mr. Eliezer knew when we asked him. You’re turning out to be quite the resource we need.” Abner seemed cheerful at this prospect and wheeled himself over to an oak desk. Then he lined up the books he had taken off the shelves neatly in a row.

“Now Mr. Puck,” Abner said quietly, “ can you read all of these titles?”

Lionel squinted over the lettering on each. There were easy enough to read. Some looked older than the others, some were in worse condition, but all seemed readable.

“Agatha Geography, The Sentient Watch Archives Volume 4, Boating on the Ovel River, Motor-carriage repair manual, and,” Lionel peered over the cover of the last book, “Travel Guide. That’s all it says.”

“The last book? That’s what it says?” Abner asked quickly wheeling over to him.

“Why yes, it’s perfectly legible. Look,” Lionel held it up, the lettering flickered for a second and then momentarily disappeared. Lionel stared at it in disbelief.

“Sir,” Lionel began slowly, “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“The lettering it…moved.” Lionel slowly put the book down.

“Mr. Puck, please, may I see the book?”

“Of course.” Lionel shakily handed it over. Abner looked at it critically, scrutinizing the cover, “incredible. There’s nothing there now.”

“What?” Lionel peeked over Abner’s shoulder, as Abner held it there was nothing on the cover.

“That’s strange,” Lionel opened the cover and began to flip through the pages, front to back. At first they were all blank, but as the pages fell words bled onto them, followed by diagrams and colored graphs. Abner’s eyes widened in awe.

“I don’t believe it.” He murmured, “But, all of these symbols, can you decipher it?” He was pointing at a word, a clearly written word, easily read.

“There are no symbols, its just letters to me, the word you’re pointing at is ‘left.’ The whole sentence is, ‘Make sure that the flask is not left out over night.’” Lionel read it easily. Abner shut the book with a surprised thud.

“You can read it easily, you see things I don’t. Why?” But before Lionel could answer Abner went on, “tell me, what does this page say.” He turned to the third page of the book. Lionel’s stomach jumped right up his throat in excitement.

I am the Way to Worlds Unseen
Raphaeus is my Name.
I am the 3rd of few

“It’s a Tabuletary. Raphaeus. The 3rd.” Lionel could barely complete sentences in his amazement.

“I knew it!” Abner looked as though he’d jump out of his wheelchair and dance a jig on the desk, “Mr. Puck! You are a genius!”

“Its nothing really, I can just understand it. Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, where did you find this book?”

“It was being thrown away, everyone thought it was a blank book, something about it made me keep it. I’m glad I did. But Mr. Puck! Do you understand what this means?”

“We can retrieve the Meras!” Lionel said the full impact not hitting him until a few seconds later when he promptly fainted.