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I hadn’t been the same since, either, like the town itself.
Pulling the jacket over my arms, I covered the goosebumps forming on my skin. The streets were empty, and I could hear each rhythmic thud of my clomping shoes as they hit the ground, making my way to the library. I hoped that the man was still there.
A stale and rancid smell devoured my senses as I passed the small streams leading to the grand building that held the library. The smell reminded me of my parents, and the times they used to walk me to this library after their jobs each day. My mother would get home in the early afternoon from teaching at the local school, whereas my father would get home later, helping others with their illnesses and medicines.
They brought me to the library multiple times when I was young, as they had expectations for me to become a scholar like them. I knew they wanted more from me, but I couldn’t meet what they had wanted.
Now they weren’t alive, and I sometimes blamed it on myself, even though their deaths were not my fault.
Reaching the large drab cathedral doors, the memories of my childhood brewed to the surface. The circular handles wereornate and sturdy as my hands reached to pull them open. Breathing in deeply, I swung the doors to the sides, revealing the large expanse of shelves holding dusted books. Anxiety breached my chest and muscles, tightening uncontrollably with a numbness flooding soon after. I hadn’t come here since my parents died. The memories of them bringing me as a kid washed over my mind, but I quickly redirected the thoughts.
The old church building smelt of mildew as a wave of it rushed out. Lights were flickering from beaten sconces and lanterns that were sporadically found inside the large building. Rusty old shelves lined the walls, filled with books that had layers of dead skin piling atop. The original seats were removed and replaced with small oak hardwood tables and chairs that were located in the center, standing over hand-painted art on the floor that was cracking with age and use.
Windows decorated the inside with hand-painted, stained glass that would tell stories of the Old Religion. A few of them were broken, shattered pieces sticking out, a deadly reminder to everyone that the Old Religion had been banned for ages.
Shutting the heavy weathered door, the hinges creaked, alerting anyone inside that they had a visitor. Not another sound followed mine, making the absence of life in the building surround me.
“Hello?” I called out. My words trembled through the walls. My steps reverberated as I approached the main desk concealed by towering shelves.
Behind the desk, a small wrinkled head peeked out. “Hmph,” the man croaked. “What do you want?” He had small glasses covering his eyes, his hair a faded green, showing that it had once been dark when he was young.
“I have questions. I was hoping you’d help me answer?” Standing up straight, I completed the distance from myself tothe desk. He wore a robe that matched an obsidian hue, covering his shoulders but revealing his hunched back.
My experience with death rattled my habits. However, I figured I’d try the easier way before resulting in pain or even death.
“Hmph,” he said yet again. His brows furrowed together, his wrinkles drooping. Maybe he had experienced as much heartbreak as I had in the last few months. It made me have some empathy for him, but not enough to not kill him if I had to.
He looked up at me like he didn’t recognize me. “Can I help you?” he stated, forgetting what I had just said.
“I used to come here a lot as a kid. Do you remember my parents? Lizzie and Damian?” My voice trembled while getting their names out of my mouth. He instantly looked down at the books piled on the desk he was sitting at, the covers still old and rusty, dust rippling up like smoke from his touch.
“Of course, I knew Lizzie and Damian. And, of course, I remember you.” His voice changed as he said it. Hearing him state my parent’s names affected me more than I wanted it to. I had to suffocate the sadness that erupted in my body before it took control. The event made us all different. We were all cold to the heart.
“I was wondering what you could tell me about Scalebornes and where I could find one?”
“What need do you have with a Scaleborne, son?”
“I’m looking for one. I was told they’ve been extinct. But I knew that you would know better,” I attempted to flatter him.
He sighed, moving his frail body uncomfortably on the chair. He was staring me down with his eyes, as though he was looking into my soul, wanting to know my intentions. I became fearful that he may uncover my deadly reasoning for finding a Scaleborne, but I was desperate, nonetheless.
I gave the old man a smirk and then stated, “As a child, I believed that if anyone knew something, it would be you.” I could see his eyes gleam with pride.
“I’ve heard of some hiding in the Forbidden Forest.” I was about to walk away when he continued. “But beware. The Forbidden Forest is deadlier than most people know. Very few make it out alive.” I knew that. Of course, I knew that. I assumed I could find one in the Forbidden Forest, but I wished there might be one closer. But of course, there wouldn’t be.
“Do you know where in the forest?”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he grimly said as he turned to look away from me.
“Of course, but why hide this precious information for yourself?” If it were the Damian before the fire talking to him, he would’ve begged. He would’ve told him how desperate he was. However, the new Damian refused to beg.
“There’s a fishermen’s town on the edge of Evler. It’s past the Forbidden Forest. You have to go through it to reach the city. There they kidnap Scalebornes. They will sell their golden blood or sell them whole. They’re the heart of the Scaleborne trade. The men that kidnap the Scalebornes are most weak during a full moon as they spend the night protecting their houses from the waves the moon summons rather than guarding the half-dragons. That will be your best moment to kidnap one if you dare.”
Chapter fourteen
AURELIA
The cry sent shivers down my spine. What the scales was that sound? It was such a sickly scream that I couldn’t get it to escape my mind. It continued to rattle in my head, listening to the same sound over and over.
