He rolled up the long sleeves of his green robe and bit his lip while carefully copying elven runes from an ancient tome that lay open in front of him. The entire oblong study was crammed with closets containing diverse books and magical devices, and a massive oak door was ajar. Orwin dipped his pen into a crystal inkwell and began to copy the following paragraph as footsteps sounded from the corridor, and the unlocked door opened wide. Orwin looked up as his guest — a middle-aged magician wearing a yellow robe entered the study. His brown hair was combed back, his beard was neatly trimmed, and round glasses sat on his hooked nose.
“Good day, Guardian Balthazar”, Orwin was the first to greet the guest.
“Hello, Orwin”. Balthazar closed the door behind him. “Why did you want to see me?”
“I need permission to visit the library”.
“But you have it”. Balthazar raised an eyebrow slightly.
“The lower storey, the repository of elven …”
“No”, Balthazar objected. “It’s out of the question!”
“But my research!” Orwin resented. “Without these books, I can’t get any further!”
“Then busy yourself with something else”. Balthazar turned around to leave the study.
“Father…” Orwin got up from behind the desk. “This knowledge … I can make a discovery that …”
“Will bring her back?” Balthazar looked Orwin straight in the eyes. “Playing with the past is dangerous, son. I can’t let you take that risk. Let it go, Orwin — you can’t bring Melia back ...”
“I know the way! Elven magicians had this knowledge, and at this very moment, it’s stored somewhere there”. Orwin pointed to the stone floor. “Father, please, let me try”.
Balthazar took a few steps and sat on a leather sofa crowded with books. He took off his glasses and massaged his eyes. Then he shifted the gaze of his blue eyes back to Orwin.
“Remember our credo, Father, the credo of the Devon family?”
“In the name of knowledge …” Balthazar replied in a low voice without taking his eyes off Orwin.
An inner struggle was going on inside Balthazar, and Orwin could see it.
“So let me try”, Orwin insisted. “Permit me, in the name of knowledge”.
Rising from the sofa, Balthazar put on his glasses and came close to Orwin.
“In the evening. Hikon will let you through; he’ll usher you to the lower storey and help you find what you are looking for”. With these words, Balthazar turned around and headed for the exit from the study.
“I thank you, Father”, Orwin said, watching Balthazar leave. He could already feel a faint spark of hope flaring into a furious flame again. “Thank you …”
Balthazar went out without looking back and closed the door behind him. Overwhelmed with emotion, Orwin sank onto the chair. He still could not believe that his father had let him into the library section with restricted access. Blinking away his shock, Orwin dipped the now-dry pen into the inkwell and began to copy the elven runes at double speed.
***
Stair by stair, Orwin descended, following magician Hikon’s confident footsteps. Hikon was appointed library archivist by the Senior Guardian Falnir, and the young magician was very proud of himself. His grey robes with black stripes heaved with every step he took. They descended lower and lower, passing the countless storeys of the enormous library. Orwin told Hikon what he was looking for, and the archivist immediately pinpointed the exact location. A spiralling staircase that led downwards was illuminated by a multitude of magical lanterns, and each floor had an arched passage with numbers carved above it. Hikon stopped at arch number eleven. They were already deep enough and felt the underground chill.
“Third row, fifth rack, shelves two through six”, Hikon announced. “I’ll wait here, but not for long”.
Orwin nodded and entered the archway. He found himself in a spacious hall lit by a few magic spheres under the ceiling. The whole room was full of shelves with books, mostly in black and green bindings. At the far end of the hall, there were closets containing some ancient artefacts. Orwin used the hint and quickly found the right shelves. On the spines of the books, he saw the titles embossed with elven runes: “Journey into the World of Spirits”, “The Other Side of Death”, “The Tale of Queen Juvena”, and many others. Orwin read them fast, pulling out from time to time one book after another. Finally, he found the needed tome: “The Art of Summoning the Spirit of Estrele the Hermit”. Orwin ran through the first pages of the dark green book and headed to the exit from the hall.
“Good choice”, Hikon nodded knowingly at seeing the tome. “It’s from Gallan Croverton’s private library. Only four copies have survived to this day”.
“I’ll return it tomorrow”, Orwin promised confidently, almost shaking with anticipation.
“That would be nice”, Hikon replied and headed for the stairs. “It’s time to go out”.
***
In the dead of night, Orwin silently unlocked the door to his quarters in the Croverton residential tower and stepped inside, trying not to make any noise. As he expected, Belatriss decided to wait for him, but tiredness took over, and the girl was now sleeping, sitting on a chair by the window and pressing her cheek against the sill. Orwin walked over and carefully carried her to the bed.
“Sleep tight, little magician”. He kissed his daughter on the forehead and closed the door to her room.
As to Orwin, he did not intend to go to bed. He sat at the small desk and lit the magic lamp. The tome was already on the table. Sighing heavily, Orwin opened the book and began to carefully read elven runes, writing out from time to time the most important ones on a blank sheet of parchment. He did not even notice the dawn break outside the window and the door to Belatriss’s room cautiously open.
“Dad, what are you doing?” the child’s voice sounded behind his shoulder.
Orwin started but, at the sight of his daughter’s red-haired head, began to laugh and hug her.
“Working, Triss”, Orwin smiled, releasing the girl. “I had a lot of work to do last night”.
“Are you studying magic?” Belatriss’s bright eyes lit up with interest. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!”
“Wait, Triss — I haven’t finished yet. I promise to tell and show you everything once I’m done”.
“Will you? Really? Fire magic or lightning, like Grandpa? Or colourful water, like Mentor Alta? Or beautiful birds of light, like Uncle Falnir, or ...”
“Stop”. Orwin laughed again. “I’ll show you everything, but not now. Haven’t you forgotten what day it is today?”
“The most special!” Belatriss jumped up with impatience. “Grandpa Balthazar said that in the evening, there would be a celebration and a big lemon cake — my favourite! And also gifts!”
“I think we don’t need to wait till the evening”, Orwin said provocatively; his drowsiness disappeared in the company of this restless red-haired fidget. “Come with me”. Orwin got up from behind the desk, hiding the tome in its upper drawer, took Belatriss by the hand and led her downstairs.
“And where are we going? I have a lesson with Mentor Alta now. She’ll get angry if I’m late”.
“She won’t be angry. After all, today is a special day”.
They left the residential tower and crossed the schoolyard, greeting the magicians they met on the way. Orwin was showered with congratulations on his daughter‘s birthday. They went past the dining room and stopped by the stables. Belatriss asked no more questions, fascinated by the look of horses in stalls. She spent here every evening, helping grooms to comb the manes of stately animals.
“Come here”. Orwin ducked into a small stall at the back of the stables. “Happy birthday, daughter!”. Belatriss only squeaked and rushed to a tiny snow-white colt. At first, it avoided her, but a moment later, it licked the girl on the forehead and neighed merrily. Orwin took an apple from his bosom and handed it to his daughter. She began to feed the foal, stroking its mane.
“I agreed with Alta — you may skip her lesson but must attend the other classes. The afternoon practical on controlling the elements can’t be cancelled”.
“Thank you-thank you-thank you!” Belatriss jumped up and hugged her father; tears of joy flowed down the girl’s cheeks.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” Orwin affectionately stroked his daughter on the head, feeling now like the happiest person in the world. Only knowledge drawn from an old tome curled like black smoke somewhere in the back of his mind.
“His name is Pegasus!” proudly declared Belatriss. Pegasus neighed approvingly and nuzzled the girl’s back. Orwin left them in the care of a groom, returned to his study and locked the door. He took out the parchment filled with notes from his bosom and laid it on the desk with trembling hands. Orwin sighed heavily and began to recite a chant, letting energy flow through him. As soon as he said the last line, it suddenly got colder in the room, and the shadows became longer. Orwin heard a voice — barely audible but recognisable.
“Melia!” called Orwin. “Melia, is that you?” A ghostly silhouette slid past Orwin and vanished at once. The room immediately warmed up, and his nose picked up a slight scent of lavender.
“Melia …” whispered Orwin. With a heavy heart, he sat at the desk and, after hesitating a little, began to write down something fervently, consulting the old books in front of him. He was close to finding the answer, closer than ever.
***
“Orwin, stop!” Fear sounded in Balthazar’s voice. “It’s too dangerous!”
“I almost made it! I only need more energy!”
“This knowledge will kill you, my boy”, Falnir warned him. “Think better of it!”
All three of them stood beside an energy sphere in a small hall. The walls and floor were covered with the tiniest pieces of a mosaic depicting the landscapes of Renoran. From the base of the sphere’s pedestal, an inlaid river — the great Ardrasil, the source of life and magic — ‘flowed’.
“I can bring her back! I’ve calculated everything!”
“Playing with the world of spirits is very risky. The elven magic is powerful but unpredictable”. Falnir froze at an invisible line of the magical barrier erected by Orwin. Moving the fingers on his lowered hands, Balthazar tried to break through the barrier but so far, without success. Almost all magicians gathered for the feast in the refectory located in another school building. Only these two noticed Orwin’s abrupt departure.
“There’s no turning back”, whispered Orwin. “In the name of knowledge!” He began to cast spells. The magical lanterns flickered and began to go out one by one. The temperature in the hall dropped, and the magical sphere began to pulsate and stridulate.
“Son, no! Think of Triss!”
“It’ll be all right, Father”, Orwin replied with a faint smile.
The last lantern went out, and only dim light coming from the sphere itself illuminated a small patch in the middle of the hall. Some shadows appeared, and intermittent voices were heard from somewhere. The figure of a young woman floated out of the darkness and stopped beside the sphere.
“Melia”, whispered Orwin, holding out his hand.
“Stop, you fool! It’s not her!” Balthazar finally found a weak spot in the barrier and began to destroy it. “Help me, Falnir!”
“Too late…” the Senior Guardian replied.
Orwin took the woman by the hand, and a wave of deadly cold immediately spread throughout his body. The woman looked at Orwin with blank eyes and began to vanish.
“Melia ...”
Orwin looked at his hands: they became transparent like those of the ghost. It got even colder.
“Balthazar, don’t touch him!” Falnir dragged Balthazar away, but the latter was trying to get loose. “It’ll absorb you, too!”
Orwin looked at his father with eyes full of regret.
“I was wrong”, he whispered in a fading voice. “Tell Triss…” Orwin did not have time to finish speaking. He stood still for a moment and then scattered into a hundred tiny sparks.
“No-o-o!!!” Balthazar screamed, running up to the spot where Orwin had just stood. “Stupid boy! What have you done?!” Balthazar fell to his knees and rested his head against the cold pedestal of the sphere. Tears flowed from his eyes.
Falnir knelt beside him and put his hand on Balthazar’s shoulder. The lanterns in the hall began to come on one by one, dispelling the darkness, but their light could not illuminate the path of the grief-stricken father.
In the refectory, Belatriss pushed aside her plate of lemon cake and froze, looking around in fear.
“What happened, Triss?” Alta asked and leaned towards the child.
“Something bad ... Something bad has happened”, Triss answered in a trembling voice. “Dad ... Something has happened ...” She began to cry and threw herself into the arms of Alta, who did not understand anything.
In the courtyard, a large raven soared off a lantern and rushed into the sky with a cry.