Chapter 236: Day 235

Day 235,

Yeah, I needed that break.  Even now my wrist is still sore as I go to write this, but it’s better than I suspect it would have been otherwise.  Not really worth taking a detour back to the healing spring on our way back to the Village though.  Not that I think I could convince the others anyway after that last night there.

But on to more interesting things.

We’d already discussed the plan for the day yesterday evening (and included Iole in the discussion) so we were able to head out this morning without too much delay beyond my usual morning slowness.  (How happy I’ll be to have a real bed once more.)  Maiko was able to lead us to the structure with the other Reader statue without issue, although it was a longer trek than I expected.  Then again, this island is significantly larger than nearly all the others we’ve seen these past couple of weeks, maybe around half the size or so of the main island with the Village.  And we’d made the trek from near the western end of it to what I’m estimating is somewhere near the center.  There really wasn’t much in the way of a trail, so I was glad to have the pale ring back from Lin, although as we made our way I couldn’t help but wonder if she was regretting that decision.

As for the structure itself, I find myself wanting to call it a library, but there really isn’t enough left intact to say for sure.  When Maiko said before that it had been mostly consumed by the jungle, that may have been an understatement.  The roof of the place had completely collapsed long ago.  The outer walls remained only as scattered and fragmented sections.  Were the (book?)shelves not themselves made of stone and tall enough to stick out above the rubble, I doubt we would have ever known they were there.  And as tempting a project as it would be to try to clear some of the rubble away to see what’s buried beneath, most of it has long since been overgrown to the point that we’d have to tear away an interlocking webwork of roots and vines before we could even begin to start moving anything.

Even in that fallen state, the ruins were impressive to walk through.  While there may have been no walls remaining, go far enough in and you can find yourself unable to see the jungle’s trees, surrounded instead by still-towering shelves that have had their contents replaced by ferns, vines, and the nests of small animals that went scurrying and fluttering as we made our way toward the center.  And beneath our feet, the green-matted rubble rose and fell in uneven rolling hills, bringing us alternatingly closer and further from the uppermost reaches as if we were bobbing upon waves as we made our way forward and inward.

I can only imagine that there once must have been ladders of some sort spread throughout to reach the upper shelves.  Alas, if they ever existed they don’t anymore.  Instead, I made due with finding a spot where the rubble had made a passable slope up to the top of one of the shelves.

Wide enough to stand atop, the view from above the shelves gave me a better perspective on the awesome expanse of the ruin.  While there was no indication that there had ever been an upper story, the remaining shelves indicate that this place must have been at least two or three times the area of the cathedral.  Circular in overall layout, the shelves alternated between concentric rings of curved shelves and straight shelves aligned as if radiating outward from the center.  It made for a curiously inefficient use of space that lent a sense of growing claustrophobia the nearer one got to the center.  An effect that was exaggerated by the almost labyrinthian alignment of the gaps in the concentric shelves.  Or rather, lack of alignment.  Stand at the border between any two “layers” and you’ll be unable to see the way forward or back.  No straight or direct paths from outside to center.

Had I not had that early elevated view of the layout, I imagine our journey to the center would have been more disquieting than fascinating.  Maiko walking along the tops of the shelves to guide us certainly helped as well.  I would have worried about stability with her walking up there, but if any of these shelves were going to fall, they would have long before we got there.  Truth be told, if I had her strength to make the jumps between shelves, I would have done the same.  For a gut-wrenching moment back when we were climbing down from that one shelftop I thought that Cass was going to try to follow Maiko’s lead, but she turned back at the end of the row.  And gave me a look that let me know better than to say anything about it.

In a moment of morbid curiosity, I found myself speculating aloud on the condition of these ruins when compared to the cathedral.  Was the original construction of this place inherently less sturdy, leading to it deteriorating more quickly?  Or was it the trees intertwining with the walls and columns that kept the cathedral standing?  Or - and here’s the morbid part - was this a matter of disaster rather than neglect?  Was this place destroyed rather than eroded?  If we looked beneath the rubble, would we find the crushed skeletal remains of this place’s final patrons?

Cass dryly pointed out that any human remains would have been claimed by the shades by now.

I didn’t have much time to question how shades would be “claiming” bodies under mounds of rubble when doors and walls seem to block them, as we reached the center shortly thereafter.

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Despite having had blue skies above our heads and the not-yet-noon sun at our backs the whole time to spare us the worst of the shadows, stepping into that central space (concourse? atrium? gallery?) felt like stepping outdoors.  Such was the contrast from traversing the stacks.  This shelfless, rubble-covered architectural focal point could have fit the entirety of the archive all on its own.

Instead it now held only the Reader.

Initially, I was surprised to see that the statue and its immediate surroundings were free of debris, until I remembered that Iole mentioned she had cleared the area herself decades ago, searching for a possible companion to her book or the box she found it in.  She never found anything else.

(I should ask her about that box, now that I think about it.  She’s mentioned it once or twice, but I still haven’t seen it myself.  I wonder what she did with it.)

Even with that rational explanation in mind, it was hard to shake the impression of the statue sitting in the middle of an impact crater, as if it had fallen from the heavens and blown everything else away upon landing.  Or perhaps, with those wings and the way the circle of  cleared debris crested at the top and sloped down inward covered by creeping plant growth, the imagery of a nest was more apt.

Nestled atop their plinth, book on knee, sun at their back but soon to be directly overhead, this Reader was certainly of a kind with the one in the cathedral.  (Or is “reader,” lowercase r now more appropriate with two of them?)  Of a kind, but not the same.  Still robed, hooded, winged, and reading, but the pose was more casual - one foot atop the plinth with knee sticking up and the other leg dangling down - and the face, while still androgynous, we all agreed was different enough to represent a different individual, even accounting for weathering.  And speaking of the weathering, while Maiko had said previously that this statue was “less detailed,” having seen it myself I suspect it’s more a matter of erosion from being directly exposed to the elements for who knows how long.  She was right though about it being slightly smaller

We spent the rest of the day out there, wandering the shelves, examining the statue, poking at interesting bits of rubble, taking notes, making sketches.  Anything that might give more solid indication to the nature of the place.  True, Iole had warned us that she’d spent years meticulously going down every shelf and aisle without turning up anything, so we hardly expected to make a breakthrough in an afternoon, but it was still an engaging activity.  

Also, we had something specific to keep an eye out for that Iole wouldn’t have: possible catacomb entrances.  We didn’t find any of course, but with the apparent similarities to the cathedral I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.  And with all that rubble, and the scattering of toppled shelves, there could be something buried still.  I almost wish it were the rainy season so we could see if this structure has the chanting too.

Maybe we’ll make a future trip back out here for that.  At the fuzzy border between seasons so it won’t be raining all the time.  Perhaps take Prsicilla’s island again so we don’t have to bail out boats in a downpour.

Wrist is sore again.  Stopping here for the night.

 

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