Chapter 8: Day 8

Day 8,

Last night was… nice.  After locking up the archive for the evening I wandered the Village streets for a time looking for the home I’d been invited to dinner at.  Fortunately James had given me directions before we parted, saying it was towards the waterfront so I only got lost once on the way.  Still, it was just past dark when I arrived.  It’s an oddly festive sight, these Village streets at night.  The rooftops, awnings, and doors are colorful enough by day, but once the sun goes down and dusk mutes their hues the villagers uncover the crystals on their lamps and a veritable rainbow spills from the windows to paint the white walls of the winding rows.

The crystals used to light the archives (from which stock I’ve been lighting my own home) are all a near-uniform blue-white, neutral and good for reading by.  The color choices for lighting people’s homes however are more varied, although how much was personal preference of the residents, versus differing availability of crystal colors, versus some manner of social indicator, I’m not yet certain.  Blues, greens, and magentas seem to be the most common although warmer yellows and oranges are not uncommon.

My hosts for the evening were in one of the homes with those warmer hues.  By some minor miracle I knocked on the correct door the first time and was greeted by Cassandra (or “Cass” as I soon learned everyone but her parents called her).  As I was led inside and seated at a table in the last stages of being set (apologizing for my tardiness all the while and being assured it was no problem in return), I was introduced to her oldest sibling, Norman, and his wife, Marva, and reminded of the names of the other two siblings I’d shared a ride with this morning, Acantha and Manfred.  With that last part and the reputation I was apparently growing in the Village as always needing directions, some joking was made at my expense about archivists being so good at writing everything down because they forget it otherwise, but I took it all in good humor.  Dinner was served (seafood, caught by our hostess and prepared by the host I’m told), small talk was had, I was asked how I was settling in, references to family events and news I lacked the context for were made, inquiries were made about what being an outsider was like (and then shushed by James for being rude and then answered anyway), and I learned another role that the archivist usually plays in the Village.

Apparently it is traditional for archivists to know the stories in the library well enough to tell them as entertainment at whatever gathering they happen to be at.  Having mostly just been skimming as many books as possible for organizational purposes so far I wasn’t really familiar enough with their contents to recite them on the spot like this.  But my outsider status afforded me a unique advantage.  While I couldn’t remember much at all of history, whether my own or my world’s, I could still remember a number of works of fiction.

And so after a moment of consideration I launched into a (heavily abridged) retelling of a classic.  A story of a man from a quiet village much like this one who was invited out on an adventure to recover stolen treasure from a dragon and found a magic ring along the way.  I was hesitant and awkward at first, neither confident in performing in front of others nor in my ability to do the story justice, but as I went on I got more and more into it (even if I had to make up names for characters I didn’t remember).  It’s funny, I have this sense of a memory of being averse to speaking because I dislike the sound of my own voice, but I didn’t feel that at all last night.  Or since I’ve been here for that matter.

I’m glad to say it went over well.  Strangely, Marva had memories of her grandfather telling that same story when she was young, albeit with some differences in the details.  Perhaps a previous outsider told it as well? It was, as I said, a classic.  Abridged as the story was though, it was still a long one and by its conclusion it was well into the night and we were all tired.  Not that that stopped the kids from asking for an encore, although I suspect it had more to do with not wanting to go to bed than with my storytelling talents.

Still, if I was too tired to recall another story I was also tired enough for my judgment to be impaired.  And thus I asked for the lights to be covered and went into a recounting of my recent visit to the ruined cathedral, unearthly chanting and all.  And for some sleep deprived reason I ended it by declaring that I planned to go back and investigate once more.

Anyway, shortly after that the adults got the children off to bed and set some blankets out on a couch for me.  After the previous night, anything likely to be spirit free sounded wonderful.

And now we actually get to today in today’s entry.

I managed to track down Pat before heading to the library and talked to him about the ruined cathedral and the nature sprite.  Of the sprite he mostly just confirmed what Cass had told me, with the added tidbit that they’re more likely to take an interest in outsiders and for longer than they are regular villagers.  Fun…  Regarding the cathedral, he told me that it was old and abandoned even when he was young.  While he’s familiar with the idea of worship and religion, it doesn’t seem to be something really practiced by the Village in general.  Sure, they’re aware of things like nature spirits and the Wandering God and show them respect and deference and know to give appropriate thanks on the occasions that they are helpful, but prayer and devotion to such entities is a foreign concept to them.  So whatever the builders of that cathedral believed or what they used it for, he can’t say.  But he did know that the chanting I heard only happens during the rain.  When I asked if the appearance of the nature sprite could be connected to my stumbling into the cathedral he told me that they probably weren’t directly related.  At most, being out alone in a place where villagers normally avoid was enough to catch the sprite’s attention in and of itself.  But not to worry, sprites don’t interfere with one another’s games so further exploring isn’t likely to attract more.

Of course, the talk of religion led (perhaps inevitably so) to the topic of what the villagers believe happens after death.  On broaching this topic, the elder’s jovial mood faded away beneath a somber face as he told me that they go beneath the earth to sleep but occasionally rise up as shades.  And then with a laugh he told me that it’s bad luck to speak too much of such things and the conversation moved on to lighter topics until I bade him my leave to go open the library for the day.

As for my work in the library, it passed much the same as yesterday.  However I did close up a little early so that I could finally take some time to walk around the village and see more of its layout before meeting James and the kids to catch the ride home they offered me.  Before I left though, I pulled a table into the middle of the entry room along with a box I found, a small stack of papers, and instructions for any visitors while I was out to write down their name, where to find them, and what they came to the library for so that I could find and bring it to them when they got back.

I plan on going back to the ruined cathedral tomorrow if it doesn’t rain, but I don’t want the people here to think I’m neglecting my contribution to the community, such as it is.  And besides if this little system works out it could be a good way to see more of the Village and meet people.

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