Strains

“I thought Matthew was the only psychic on campus.”

He waves his hands. “Yeah, now. This library isn’t considered part of Legacy Academy. Hasn’t been for longer than I care to remember. Come on in, I’d rather answer your questions somewhere more comfortable.” He turns and heads deeper in the library.

I hesitate and look to the door behind me. It’s not like it’ll magically open now. I walk down the foyer, my apprehensive steps cushioned on the burgundy rug.

The foyer opens into an open space that expands beyond the light of the few lit candles. Wood cracks and comes ablaze in a fireplace at the end of the room. Light crawls up the walls, illuminating shelves of books with multi-color spines of all thicknesses and heights.

The boy sighs as he throws himself back into a wingback chair in front of the fire. He looks at me, and motions to me to sit down.

I approach the chair across from him.

“Who are you?”

“I am Caiden, the last librarian of Legacy Academy.”

I sit down in the chair.

“I imagine you have more questions than just that?”

“Yeah, actually,” I pull my backpack forward. “I wanted to see if I could find some books to study for my classes.”

He chuckles. “The academy is still forcing students to fail? Their dedication to avoiding actual instruction is impressive.”

Nice to hear it was always this way, but it definitely contradicts what is in the handbook.

“We can find books that may be able to help. Though, I am not sure how much good it’ll do. The courses were designed with failure in mind, you may find yourself an even higher brick wall if you get over the one you’re already at.” He begins tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. “For you to even consider doing this is impressive in its own right. Matthew must be proud.”

Actually, I don’t know how happy he’d be if he knew I was out here. I didn’t know I had gone beyond the campus boundaries. I fiddle with my hair.

“Is he not proud?”

I snap my eyes back to him. I’m not sure what to say. Matthew may be proud of me, but at the same time, not? It’s so hard to tell with his mood changes.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well congratulations, it isn’t like him to feel much of anything for anyone.”

He seems to know a lot about Matthew for being locked up here. I wonder what his story is.

“Feel free to ask any question that pops into your head Elizabeth, I won’t bite.”

He says that, but if I know anything about the faculty on campus, it’s that they never answer questions. They thrive on mystery and confusion. Then again, this dark library and its resident hermit weren’t on campus, were they?

“What are you doing out here if the library is closed?”

He leans over and grabs a mug that I didn’t notice before.

“After I graduated the academy, I chose this as my job. Books have always been the best company, don’t see why I would abandon them once the library was closed,” he says, tracing his finger along the rim of the cup. “Not like the council was going to offer me another position anyway.”

From what I’ve heard, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“And why was it closed?” I say, the words flowing out of my mouth before I could even register them.

“After the council sealed the portal, there was no purpose for it,” he pauses, taking a sip of his drink. “We lost the purpose for many things that day. Yet the library was the only thing that ceased operation completely. That, and I suppose one could argue, graduations.”

He turns his gaze away from the fire cracking away in the fireplace. He looks at me for a long moment, and it makes me uneasy. Psychics don’t make the best company, especially when they go quiet.

He clears his throat and turns away again. “Though it would seem the council has learned the error of their ways. I’m offended they hadn’t sent some kind of notice to me about the portal reopening. Even I would go back to the academy for that.”

I bet anyone who had graduated would, they can actually leave this place. Still, I decide to be the bearer of bad news.

“No, actually, they didn’t.” He looks up at me. “Reopen the portal I mean.”

He sets his cup down. “You got here, to Near Elysium, about a week ago, correct?” He stands and begins pacing in front of the fire. How could he know that if the library is closed and no one ever comes here? He waves a hand at me. “Psychic.”

Can’t have a thought to myself around here either.

He walks towards the fireplace. The glow of fire dances across his face. His face hardens, and it looks worn, like he’s been through war or fire. He can’t be older than eighteen, but stress and anxiety have etched their way into his face; reflecting in his stiffened jaw and furrowed eyebrows.

“Um, about those books?”

He shrugs. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I can take a look. I’ll just need to see your class schedule.”

I take out the paper from my pocket and approach him. The seemingly endless layers of fabric he’s imprisoned himself in smell like old parchment. He holds out his hand, and I swear I hear his clothes crinkle like fused book pages. He eyes it closely, then begins to laugh.

“Ah, it would be just like him to enroll you in the most difficult courses the academy has to offer,” he hands me back my schedule. “I’ll see what I can gather from the stacks, may take a while though.”

I look at my classes. Here I was getting nearly assaulted trying not to fail the classes Matthew signed me up for; just to learn he set me up again.

Caiden looks at me for a moment.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I sigh. “It’s not your fault, I’m just not used to failing.” I lie, because even though he isn’t technically a part of the school anymore, ranting about my facilitator to him is probably not the best idea. For all I know they’re both tapped into each other’s minds or something. Like a psychic link, if it exists. It wouldn’t make more sense than anything else around here.

“Don’t take it so hard. Like I said before, the classes were designed that way to make it nearly impossible to graduate. And It’s confusing because it doesn’t make sense. What use is Sanskrit to the living world? It’s our strains that make us useful, and there isn’t a single class taught that teaches students to hone them,” he pauses from his rant and then says quietly, “I guess Hercules’ class might get close.”

He thinks the class that Hercules uses as target practice trains students to use their strains? The Socks get to go for a run, I’ll give him that, but everyone else just ends up late for dinner.

“Hercules has always believed students faced with death use their strains more efficiently, it’s definitely not unheard of. Though most facilitators enroll their students in his course as a punishment than for education. What did you do to piss Matthew off?”

Exist, apparently.

“Nothing that I know of,” and then it hits me. “I know I give him headaches though, so it’s my fault. No big deal.” I say.

Caiden puts his hand to his chin.

“Headaches?”

I pull on a strand of my hair. “Yeah, apparently I think pretty loudly.”

“Odd, Matthew usually has his strain under control. He’s adept at tuning out others, even strangers unless he’s intentionally listening in on someone. I don’t think you’re particularly loud, to be honest. But I haven’t spoken to him in decades, so I suppose he could get rusty.”

I know we haven’t know each other long, but I don’t think Matthew fakes his headaches. He snaps at everyone when he has a headache and he cares too much for outward appearances to be acting.

What could the alternative be? That he was intentionally listening in on all my thoughts?

“I hate to cut our meeting short, but I believe you may be running late for dinner,” Caiden says.

Dinner! Matthew is going to be furious! I get up and start heading for the door. I turn, forgetting why I was here in the first place.

“Is there another way out of here?”

Caiden stands. “Yes, I’ll lead the way.”

I follow Caiden deeper into the library under the shallow light of his candle. There are no windows in this library and no other light than what Caiden holds in his cloaked hand.

He stops and hands me the candle holder.

“I haven’t used this door in ages, and there’s a trick to it. Just a moment,” he says as I hear him fiddle with the handle. It croaks as the hinges spring to life and light begins to flood inside the library.

Outside is a stone courtyard, with scattered cement planters that were devoid of any plants and benches that hadn’t been sat on in ages. The area was fenced in with an iron gate the looked out into the forest beyond.

“Sorry about that,” he says, taking the holder back and blowing out the candle.

I squint in the new light. Twilight was beginning to settle in the sky, but after being in the pitch black library, it stung my eyes.

“It’s fine, my door back in my room is tricky too. It always takes three shoves.”

He chuckles.

“Why not leave it open and avoid the exercise?”

I shake my head. “I would never. It’s difficult enough to keep the spiders away, I don’t want to extend them an invitation.”

“Things change so much. The dorms were so pristine when I was a student.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that. I got stuck in the basement of the administration building,” I grumble.

There I go complaining again. I really shouldn’t. Other than the hallway, my room is clean and functional. And thanks to Matthew’s generous gifts, it’s cozy too.

“Basement? They really must want to keep an eye on you. It’s wrong for them to systematically isolate you in that way. And you don’t need to feel guilty about telling me such things. The library always was, and will remain a safe space.”

I smile and open the next iron gate for him. He waves me off.

“You should’ve let me get that.”

“Oh I’m sorry,”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Call me old-fashioned, but I enjoy opening doors for pretty girls.”

He flows past me, heading for the next gate. I pick up my speed, passing the wake created by his flowing robes and smile as I overtake him. He begins to jog, and then so do I, until we’re running at full speed to the gate.

I get there first.

“Call me new age, but I enjoy doing things for myself,” I smirk at him.

“As long as you’re making the decision, right?”

I’m about to answer when he takes off running again. It’s the last gate, and after his head start, I’m far behind. It’s like he got faster from the last round, meanwhile my lungs are beginning to sting. I’m panting by the time I reach him at gate.

“You need to learn to bide your time,” he says, taking a key from one of his layers. He opens the gate and beckons me out.

“Will you be by tomorrow for the books?”

This library is off campus, and probably off-limits as far as Matthew is concerned. Still, I didn’t have a chance in hell in passing my classes if I didn’t get any help. Even if passing did end up being impossible, I might be able to shove some Latin in Korma’s face one day. That would be worth a lecture from Matthew.

Besides, this is the first good time I’ve had since I woke up in Near Elysium.

How upset could he really get, anyway, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.

I nod my head. “As long as I have the time.”

He smiles a charming, crooked smile.

“Glad to hear it. Enjoy your dinner.”