Storm of Prophecy: Book 1, Dark Awakening (20 page)

On the fourth day in a row, Vincent continued his relentless search for hours and hours until his eyes could bear it no more. Disappointed, he tried his best to calm himself and decided to take a break. He normally enjoyed visiting the gardens in the morning; breathing in the fresh air seemed to revive him and better prepare him for the day.

He hadn’t visited them lately because of all that had happened and because he had no desire to trouble himself fretting over Jessica. This was bigger than his original selfish reasons for getting involved. It was silly to think that rescuing her brother would make her love him if she didn’t. Since she hadn’t showed any interest in whether he had lived or died, he guessed this was the case. His heart sank as he headed for the gardens.

It was late afternoon. The mornings were when she usually worked there, and so Vincent felt it safe to assume that she wouldn’t be there now. He felt glad to leave the confines of the vast library on the third floor down of the keep and to escape what was starting to feel like his prison of paper, bookshelves, and stone.

As he passed through the hallways and steps, he was only barely aware that other people traversing them even existed. Try as he might, he could not take his mind off of the word ‘kargoth’ and what it could mean, what it could be. It was exhausting, and he needed this reprieve to fight off the feeling of being fed up.

Once outside the gatehouse, Vincent breathed for the first time this day, air that did not smell like stale old parchment. He allowed his eyes to gaze across the expanse of the campus grounds and its many lawns and buildings. To his left and further across the grass and paths, was the Tower of Prophecy where Stacy had foretold their doom. Past the lawns and other paths to his right, were the gardens set in the middle of several low buildings with pale orange walls and red tile roofs.

The gardens did not have a fence to speak of; one could walk through the path provided and view the trees, bushes, and flowers on the sides. Vincent was bombarded by a mixture of different fragrances, each with a pleasant smell of its own. The breeze carrying them rustled against the leaves. He must have walked this path hundreds of times, yet he still found the beauty extraordinary.

When he arrived at the clearing where there were less trees and bushes and more flowers and other plants in a wide circle surrounding the path, the peacefulness and beauty brought with it a hard streak of melancholy. This was where he had always spent time talking with Jessica and occasionally helped her to pull weeds, plant flowers, or water plants. He had been a groundskeeper here at Gadrale in his youth, and so it came naturally to him. Although he desired her while keeping his feelings for her a secret, Vincent would have thought that he and Jessica were at least friends. It hurt him deeply that she hadn’t come to visit him in the infirmary. It meant she didn’t care. Everyone else who was at least his friend had, as had a number of curious strangers. He knew now that his hopes of winning her heart had been in vain. She had never shared his feelings; she had merely tolerated him.

Having now faced death, he knew there were worse things than a broken heart, yet was unable to shake the sadness. Though no tears came, he still felt empty inside. Of all the women at Gadrale Keep, Jessica was the one he had gotten along with the best. Even more, he had fallen for her; he didn’t know if that could happen with anyone else. Most women didn’t think much of him. They thought of him as the same as any normal. When they saw him, they saw a commoner with a sword.

For some reason, he could not force himself to find fault with Jessica. It seemed there was nothing about her he did not adore. She had long beautiful, silky black hair, and gorgeous light blue eyes which shone like diamonds. Her pretty face, the way she smiled, and her lovely curvaceous figure filled him with such intense desire at his core that he felt a completely deprived and insufficient being without her. He didn’t know why she felt nothing for him. He guessed there must be something about himself that she didn’t like, but didn’t have any idea what.

Whatever the reason, Vincent started to feel as though coming here was a waste of time. In the face of his obligations, his own personal feelings and issues had to come second. If his venture to the gardens could not provide him with the solace or relaxation he sought, then he had to leave and do something else. At the moment, the very thought of pouring through more books made him dizzy, and he could think of no place else he would like to go.

Vincent crouched down next to a peculiar purple flower he hadn’t seen before and gently touched its petals from underneath with his fingers while he gave more thought to the investigation that he and his friends were conducting. Though the masters had not made public the object that was stolen, Vincent felt that this piece of information was vital. If they knew what it was, it might give them a hint as to the cult’s intentions. He had wanted to know all along, but wanting was one thing, and getting was quite another. Only the masters and their closest and most trusted knew; he would only find out if there was a way to get one of them to offer it.

As soon as Vincent had a plan in his mind, he stood up straight and turned around to leave the gardens. Off to the right of the path, closer to the edge of the circle near the opening, he saw a woman in a drab light tan dress bending over in a tall patch of flowers to pull weeds. One of the botanical mages assigned to garden maintenance at this time of day, Vincent thought at first. Her head was facing toward the path, and her long beautiful black hair gave her away. It was Jessica. These weren’t her hours, but she was here just the same. Vincent didn’t bother to wonder why. He didn’t think that a conversation with her would be necessary or productive either; there was nothing for him to say. He tried to discreetly walk past her without saying anything, hoping she wouldn’t notice him.

Just as he came closer, she stood to her full height and did.

A shocked expression came to her face as she momentarily disregarded the collection of weeds in her right hand. “Vincent…” She acknowledged in surprise. Then she looked him over, seeming to check to see if he really was still intact. “…you’re well, I hope?” Her beautiful eyes met his and Vincent felt like his heart had stopped.

“I’m alive,” he affirmed, volunteering nothing.

“You haven’t been visiting the gardens lately.”

He wanted to cut this short. “I haven’t been interested,” he replied.

“You look troubled, is something wrong?”

“Something was wrong, but it’s alright now.”

Curiosity came over her expression and she seemed to wonder at what he wasn’t saying. “I heard about what happened down in the vault.”

“Then you know everything,” he said, trying to brush it off so he could leave. He had better things to do.

“Wait,” Jessica said, holding up a hand when he started to move. It didn’t appear as though she was going to let him get away that easily. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

Vincent had already done so a number of times with other people, and had no desire to do so again, especially not with her. “Not particularly,” he answered.

Jessica seemed to sense his distance but didn’t let it stop her. “Well, weren’t you hurt? I mean, badly enough to land you in the infirmary?”

“That’s true.” Vincent saw that Jessica had a look of concern on her face, and didn’t know if it was genuine or not. He hated that. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible. The sympathy of a bystander meant nothing to him, even if that bystander was beautiful.

Jessica continued to pry. “It created quite a stir. I heard that the masters got involved.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame you missed it,” he replied in a completely neutral and disinterested tone, purely for the sake of small talk, “there was even a speech.”

Despite his tone and the façade of not caring, Jessica still stared at him for a split second as if to try to read some meaning into what he said. He suddenly feared that she was better at reading him than he thought, maybe from having spent time with him before, and now he wished that he had kept his mouth shut. Quietly suffering her was better than a meaningless confrontation. He had no right, and it would come to no good end.

The realization seemed to instantly wash over her like water falling from a cliff. She let out her breath all in one rush as she blinked and her eyes momentarily broke contact. “I wanted to come visit you,” she explained. Vincent felt a nervous anxiety clutch at him. “I was in the middle of a class taught by Cassandra. She’s an Elf woman from Edmar, an associate professor and one of Treyfon’s first students. Anyway, they both teach the same course, but I’m in the section taught by her. No one interrupted the class to let us know you had awakened. When I came by the infirmary later, they wouldn’t let me see you because they said you were asleep. When I tried again the next day, you were already gone.” Vincent’s eyes were somewhat wider at hearing this. He felt a warm sensation flowing through his chest as if what was frozen had now melted. He said nothing.

“You haven’t been a very easy person to find lately,” she went on. “I thought that after you left the infirmary, you would show up around here sooner or later, but you never did.” A peculiar sensation went through his stomach at the very thought of her checking up on him so, and he once again allowed himself to imagine that there might be something more between them.

Her gorgeous blue eyes looked on, waiting for a response, and he could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. “I’ve been busy,” he stammered.

“I can see that,” she said, a lovely smile gracing her lips while she let out a small giggle. Vincent returned the smile and let out a small awkward laugh of his own.

Afterward they strolled the gardens and talked while occasionally patrolling for weeds and inspecting the health of various plants. Jessica told him that she was filling in for someone else today, and Vincent silently marveled at the coincidence of having run into her at all, his foolishly smitten mind conjuring up the thought that they were meant to be. As they talked, he stuck to giving her an incomplete list of things he had done since he had left the infirmary, such as talking with the masters and so on, and tried to avoid some of the specifics. Especially those that dealt with what he and his friends were doing. He also made no mention of the time off he had been given so that the question of what he was doing with it wouldn’t come up.

His feelings toward her were clear enough to him, but he still didn’t know if it was wise to trust her with these things yet. It was too much of a risk and wouldn’t be fair to the others. Deep down, he also felt like he was protecting her by doing this, keeping her safe both from the trouble it might cause as well as other dangers that might arise. It was safer for all of them this way.

At the end, he feigned the excuse of having to arrive for his guard duty shift, and they parted company amicably. Though they had spoken in a friendly manner, Vincent couldn’t help but be excited. His heart was fluttering and he was in a good mood as he journeyed alone back to the keep. He smiled and exchanged warm greetings with passersby, and there was an occasional skip in his step. Not even the prospect of returning to the vast and dreary library was enough to dampen his spirits.

When he resumed his work, he pushed on with renewed determination yet was only barely noticing the words on the pages. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Eventually, Stacy joined him since she was done early. Before they started searching through the books together, Stacy couldn’t help but be inquisitive because his joyful preoccupation was so apparent. He told her and she momentarily shared in his mirth. Unfortunately, it was soon tempered in both of them when they remembered why they were there and the disastrous fate they were trying to prevent.

Because of what had happened with Jessica, he had almost forgotten the plan that he had come up with before he had spoken to her, almost. While he and Stacy continued searching for references to the word, he put it off until the last possible moment since it wasn’t something he took lightly. After the library had emptied of even the most committed students and the two of them were putting books back on the shelves, he finally brought it up. It wasn’t easy asking Stacy to exploit her close ties with Master Anthony to discover which object was stolen, but it had to be done. They shared a moment of silence as she thought it over. He could tell that she understood, even if she was reluctant to voice it, and she at last gave her assent.

The morning after, Vincent went to the gardens again to be with Jessica a short time before going back to the library. It was almost a return to their usual routine, yet it also felt like they were getting closer. A few times when she looked his way, he could swear that her eyes brightened just for him, and he had never felt more elated.

Later, Vincent returned to his task and poured through the books like mad. He was already well motivated by his desire to punish the culprits in the murders and disappearances and even more so after learning what he had from Stacy. How it was connected with the catastrophe she foresaw, other than fear on the part of the cult, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt invigorated like never before, as though he had a future worth fighting for. He would not let anything stand between or ruin his love for Jessica.

Sometime in the evening, Stacy arrived again to help look through the books. He was almost too afraid to ask what had happened, but did. To his relief, she told him that she hadn’t encountered any difficulties. Master Anthony had been forthcoming and easy to approach. Unfortunately, the information provided only led them to another dead end and another baffling mystery. The object stolen was nothing more than the Arkiban Quill Pen, a pen made from the feather of an extinct bird and infused with magic so that its ink never ran out.