Elven Roses

"Because in this house, I can control time and space," Aldrec replied.

Mericlou's expression went blank "I understand your confusion, love," he said with a small laugh, "but if you come with me, you will know everything. I promise. The time has come for the answers you wanted so much." He took her by the hand, and gently led her up the left staircase.

The walk was long, but not tiring, even though they ascended several flights of steps -ten by Mercilou's count- and then proceeded down a long hallway. There was a large door at the very end, with no runes. Aldrec invited her to turn the knob.

"Go ahead," he said, lightly encouraging her forward once the door creaked open. "Don't be afraid. As a matter of fact, I think you'll enjoy what's on the other side."

Mericlou entered, and no sooner than her feet had crossed the threshold, she froze. A distant, pleasured squeal rose from her as Aldrec came to her side to gaze appraisingly at her slackened jaw.

Books.

Droves of books.

A myriad of literature filled the wooden shelves that ran the length of the room that had been hollowed out of one of Vinta's massive branches. Its narrow floor dipped and curved unevenly to the right and to the left. As Mericlou brought herself to move once more, she realized in her ensuing rapturous dash along the room's length, that it swayed gently with the outside breeze.

Unlike the hanging rune cones that lit the main sitting room and hallways, this room was lit intermittently by a series of rune lanterns: smaller cubic rune-covered stones that rested atop pedestals set at intervals on the walls above the bookshelves. These produced a distinctly dimmer light than the hanging rune cones, but it was adequate for finding books and doing a quick read of them.

Aldrec spoke the word, Ereimul once again, and the light from the rune stones intensified. He looked on bemusedly as Mericlou attacked his collection of books, scanning each title, skimming through one after another, and replacing it to repeat the process over and over again with an ecstatic expression plastered upon her face.

Mericlou at last seated herself on the floor, fully immersed in one particular book that she had found. Aldrec came around, and knelt down beside her.

"I guess I don't need to tell you that this is my library," Aldrec said. He pointed to the book whose contents Mericlou was now voraciously ingesting. "Does that particular one interest you?"

"Oh yes," Mericlou said, not moving her eyes from the book's flowing elven script. "It's another book on elven history, but this one in particular, The Lay of the Fall, has an author who claims to be a High elf. It reads in a really old form of elfish."