“What are you doing out here?” Marren said, his voice thick with irritation.
“I wanted to see what’s out here. Also, I don’t like being made to feel like a prisoner.” I started to turn around but couldn’t tell where his voice came from.
“Remaining in your room is for your own safety. Follow me. I will lead you back.”
“Fine. Explain to me why keeping me in that room is for my safety. What are you trying to protect me from?”
“Relena, you must understand.” He stepped closer to me, his form darker against the shadow of the woods. “It’s too dangerous for you to be out here. Please…”
Something in his voice, or perhaps how close he stood to me, compelled me to agree with going back. Once we were on the edges of the woods I realized he had recognized me in complete and utter darkness.
“How did you know who I was back there?”
“I didn’t, and I could’ve killed you. Now go.”
His voice was empty. He lied.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, growling out a few of my words, then left him in the woods. Not once did I look back, even after I climbed back up to the balcony, my hand protesting each grasp.
I remade the bed before climbing on top and getting comfortable with the book. Using the light from the fireplace, I flipped to the first page. An elaborate script transcribed a strange language I hadn’t encountered before. It was a mixture of straight lines and curls. The next page had a family tree with names on branches and the trunk, scrawled in the same hand.
The page following held a map of our world, shrunk to fit the width of two pages. Small x’s marked different points. Curious of what the marks meant, I continued through the pages, flipping through the words I couldn’t understand.
I stopped on the pages that had extremely detailed illustrations of different creatures, which appeared almost lifelike. The first depicted a dragon, fiercely drawn, standing on its hind legs with its wings outstretched. Its mouth held open in a permanent cry, standing on the edge of a cliff, readying for flight.
The next portrayed a vampire, recognizable by the stories I’d heard of them. Their gaze could hypnotize you, placing you under their power. Their skin as pale as snow, along with their hair, until they claimed a victim at which time the color would change, much like the detail in the picture. The figure held a goblet of liquid, while their hair started dark at the roots and faded to colorless strands at the tips. Once said to be beautiful creatures, this one simply looked half-starved with sunken eyes and skin that barely stretched over their face. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.
The next creatures were fairies, gnomes, elves, dwarfs, centaurs, and goblins; all depicted with their own background suited to their ways of life. The last creature appeared human in likeness, with features akin to the wolf. The nose smoothly joined his cheeks with skin pulled tightly under his eyes. Their brow slightly swelled out farther than a human’s. The picture of his eyes was solid black with only a dot of light in them. His lips kept a human shape. Even his jawline seemed human. He had dark skin and short spiked hair. His eyes held a warning in them, but also a deep sadness. I’m sure there were more differences in character than what the picture showed. He appeared familiar, yet I couldn’t say why. I broke away from the book shaking my head.
“I’m seeing things in this damned book,” I said as my mind swam with questions. This is what Marren is afraid of? That I would turn and run away because of something so magnificent, so wonderful?
There had to be more, something I hadn’t seen yet.
I returned to the book, flipping through pages until finding parts written in Common. Pictures of people called Ancients and descendants of Ancients. I didn’t bother reading much about them, too concerned with wanting to find what Marren needed me to see.
I nearly reached the end of the book when a picture of him stared me in the face. His long black hair, his onyx eyes, the lips that brushed against mine like silk, his pointed nose and equally pointed chin, his high cheekbones, and long arched eyebrows, drawn exactly as I have seen him. My heart drummed hard and rapid in my ears.
“This is impossible! This book is so old and worn!”
He stood with a long shirt on, the laces loose and dangling the length of his torso. Underneath, the word Therianthrope was written. I slammed the book shut then tossed it to the foot of my bed and hugged my knees to my chest. I stared out past the balcony. The moon had finally risen; the night would be long, and I had more questions than ever.
***