While the morning started with nature giving the Isle a break from a light sprinkle, it rapidly turned into a heavy rain that poured for hours, without traces of letting up. It ceased activity in RP&V as the shopkeepers closed their shops, and covered their tents and tables. Retreating inside to the pub, or the Inn, keeping themselves busy, some arranged their shelves, or stocked up their merchandise.
Everyone behind the wall, stayed inside, making use of the lounges of their dwellings, watching UK-TV series programs and movies, or playing video games.
Lady D occupied herself, having been invited to Katrina’s old gathering in the kitchen, with many other practitioners that exchanged spells and other magical endeavors. She was, in a way, happy to have others to talk with who practiced magic, but still she kept to her solitary practices but there were times she became agitated, the others tried putting pressure on her for some of her spells that she didn’t want to share.
“Sometimes things are better kept secrets.” she finished the argument, “Now, how about the gods and goddess?” her soft words, changed the subject.
I stood on the staircase, listening to my mom put the men and women in their place, growing a faint smile, and decided that the juice I craved for, could wait until later. Returning to my room, allowing my mom to continue her time with those at the table, I read the books Marxus had given to me to read. And this time, they had my full attention. Reaching for the Demon book, 10-by-14 and 10 inches thick, laying it in my lap with a hard thud, it was far heavier than I remembered. The binding was worn, black leather, but it wasn’t torn. Antique ornamental metal corners and its latch lock, added to its antiquity and beauty. Embossed on the cover with what looked to be silver paint, was an arcane runic sigil with five encircled inner sigils of great significance, and ancient script etching a word I couldn’t read, but it all felt familiar.
Running my hands over the surface, my fingers followed each shaped and sigil then rested on the metal corners. Staring at the image for the longest time, before turning the book just a bit to the left, slightly opening the latch. The book held such power, history, and age that I was extremely cautious, resting it in my lap. With its spine braces between my knees, my eyes studied the latch lock, replaceing its pressure release button and once pushing down it firmly the latch popped open quickly, as if it were anxious to be read. Turning it once more, laying its weight fully in my lap, I slowly opened the hardcover surface.
With its parchment pages worn with age, I felt as if I were in a movie, glancing through one of the old volumes created for the film. Sigils covered every inch of the pages with drawings, diagrams of spells, and other arcane magic. The script that was on the cover, was written in paragraphs or individual and alone sentences in various angles to fit the pages. Smiling in admiration, this was history, not mine personally but that of my demonic background. There were pages that were tucked between those attached to the spine, and as my hands carefully flipped through them, I removed them with great care, examining them closer, turning them around and over, before returning them to their places among the book.
Zanzabarr whined, watching carefully.
“It’s all right boy, I can’t read it.” I reassured the large wolf. In that moment, I regretted saying those words because as my eyes focused back upon the pages, the ancient script was beginning to blur my vision before changing itself, allowing me to read their words. How was that possible, was the book alive? Or was it infused with ancient magic that heard me? I grew a wide smile, believing it was a possibility, and loving such history, I didn’t scoff at the idea. Laying my hands on the pages, I felt an immediate sting stab at my palms, fingers, and up through my arms as if the book, demonic nature in its own right, connected with its kin, “Whoa.” I rasped softly, as I removed my hands, staring at the parchments. Beginning to flip through the pages, there were spells and incantations all categorized according to a Demon’s rank and capabilities, and there was even a section for half-breeds, intriguing me mostly. Reading them silently, knowing that if the words had been spoken aloud, something could manifest itself and I wasn’t at all prepared or skilled enough to put that genie back into the bottle. Going back to the beginning, there seemed to be, what looked like, an introduction to readers, written in a man’s elegant penmanship, and old fading black ink:
“Contained within these pages is the historical origins of both pureblood Demons or Shayds, and half-breeds alike, but they are not the beasts that have been recorded by mortals during these times, but we walk among you. Reading these words and incantations will gain you knowledge of how we came to be since the very first of our kin, down through the ages, all deriving from the Barathous bloodline. This book, it contains the accounts of his birth, and more. It is not I to reveal all, but I ask you, my fellow kin, when you read the words, to have an open mind and heart, knowing we flourish in numbers, performing arcane spell craft that only mortals can dream of possessing. Not all of us are evil, that is true, but there are some of us that practice darker magic, who have become known among our community as the Shayds, I have come across them and they are formidable. My name is Drayven Xavier Barathous, and I am the original Demon and the author of this ancient volume that you are about to read, but my children, beware that if any of the words are spoken or recited in pun, there will be great consequences, for these spells are ancient and cannot be undone.”
Sitting in amazement, turning the pages once more, sketches and photographs from historic times when cameras had been invented, of men and women of the Barathous bloodline, were available. Names and centuries they thrived in, were written beneath the sketch or photo, while some were just too faded with age to make out. The last few pages toward the back, just before an entire section of blank parchment, was a family tree dating back to the days before Christ walked the Earth, perhaps further than that, leading up to the present day and year date of 2025. Biting my lip, beginning the tree, of course, was Drayven, born in the beginning age of man. The sketch was lifelike, mostly done in a black pigment, taking up the whole first page of the family tree. He was beautiful, with shoulder length hair colored dark, representing its black shade, with a red pigment coloring in his eyes. With his carved features, it was his eyes that were so captivating, I turned the page to the last sketch of the bloodline, before the blank pages. Another man just as handsome as Drayven had his image captured on paper, looking familiar but I just couldn’t place where I had seen him, that is if I had seen him before. The name beneath the sketch was N.A. LAZAAR, with his first and the middle name initialed, with notes that he was a powerful level 5 Demon, as well as the last of the Barathous bloodline. The date of his life was recent, living in the year 2025 and he too, was born a pureblood of Hungarian ethnicity. Staring at the photo, it was nagging at me in the back of my mind, for I knew him somehow but I just couldn’t pinpoint where.
Finding one more page that was stuck together with the one in front of it, I gently pulled them apart, revealing the mark that was identical to the one on the cover, signifying the Demon’s rank, that would be tattooed somewhere on his, or hers, body. The symbols, each and every one of them, looked like they belonged to one large puzzle that would complete the whole circle. They were quite beautiful until I noticed the half-breed mark, one I kept hidden on my inner right wrist beneath my bracelets.
There was other information between the pages and wanting to give it a break, respecting its antiquity, and to rest my eyes the pages rapidly flipped themselves as if possessed, or alive, wanting me to read something of great importance. The book lay open in my lap, and then the pages ceased, falling open. Before my eyes, there were lots of categories listing ranks and abilities of both the Demons and Shayds, even half-breeds, written in Drayven’s hand:
“These vary, according to a Demon, half-breed, or Shayd.
Strength, Stamina and Senses: Both Demons and Shayds are incredibly powerful but strengthen by age and their bloodline. With the ability to sense invisible presences or energy, ones that are not seen by mortal eyes, we can see things that others cannot, or refuse to accept. We never tire, but require rest and our senses of hearing and vision are heightened, but vary according to a set distance.
Spell casting: Our kin can perform any or all certain spells of Necromancy, arcane, or other forms of magic that exist now, or perhaps, that have yet not come to be. The highest rank in this category is five, which I possess, and although I cannot speak for all Demons and Shayds, it is difficult to state what each are truly capable of, but there are magics that I possess, but have not yet come to yield.
Teleportation: Possessing the ability to teleport, without distance or limitations, all of our kin must have a clear memory of the place or painting in order to visualize it specifically, and we teleport in various ways. There are some that create, or open, portals to step through, taking them anywhere they wish, while others disappear and reappear in flames of red, green, or blue, leaving behind the unpleasant scent of sulfur. Unfortunately. Those among us, Half-breeds, however, cannot teleport for they do not possess the strength enough to make the journey.
Immunity: Like mortals, we can die if we are injured, and we are not immune to iron, or bullet wounds to the head, heart, or other vital organs. There are some of us that are immune to fire, but possessing Pyrokinesis does not, I must admit, does not guarantee this immunity. There is such a beast, however, that I have not encountered, but a bite or scratch from a wolf, are instantaneous deaths to our kind, so we avoid all interactions with the beasts. I have seen it once, and it is not something I ever wish to witness.
Immortality: We possess long lifespans, living centuries at a time, and age much slower. It can take one hundred years to age two or three years in appearance. As stated, we can perish upon severe injury but we do heal, slowly. Only a scar remains, leaving the reminder of the wound. Half-breeds live longer than a mortal’s lifespan, but cannot live longer than two hundred years, if they take great care of their life.
Regeneration: Purebloods can heal instantly, depending on the wound, but we cannot revive if our heads are severed, or hearts having been removed. Half-breeds, can heal but this varies according to their age and ranks, but scars are left if you are a pureblood or half-breed. I have encountered women that had suffered countless wounds, leaving behind visible scars across her entire body and face. It was unpleasant, so I plead with you, take caution.
Telepathy: Any rank of Demons, Shayds, and half-breeds, are capable of this ability, reading the thoughts of an individual, seeing or sharing images from their past. It has come in quite useful.
Shape-shifting: This is dangerous and can only be performed by an expert in the darker arts and I do not recommend any Demon or Shayd below the rank of four, to attempt this, for if an inexperienced fool performs this craft incorrectly, they can become a distorted figure or they will remain in the permanent form they had shifted into. I have only seen this done once, and it is not pleasant, for there is NO undoing this, but coming from experience of performing this myself, afterward, once I returned to my original sense of self, it is unpleasant because a person keeps the traits of the man or woman they become, but it is only temporary but the effect will last if this is done for long periods of time.
Taking a moment to wrap my head around all of the current information bouncing around in my mind, I wondered about the man in the bookshop, knowing for sure now, that it must have been a Demon capable of shape-shifting, but then at the same time, it wouldn’t have made sense to take on Marxus’ form unless they knew him.
“Hmm.” I moaned, then went back to reading, and there was a lot more to read on these pages.
Voice Mimicry: This is mild, mimicking an individual’s voice that any rank, even that of half-breeds can perform. It does not take much power to do, and it can be useful if there is a need for it, but mostly it is used for pun, or it could be beneficial when you are hunting an enemy, calling out to them. Henceforth, a Demon’s trickery.
Biokinesis: This reprograms, destroys, or changes the natural DNA cells of a mortal or enemy from within.
Electrokinesis: Is manipulating energy and electrical currents, releasing powerful charges as if lightning erupts from Demon or Shayd hands.
Pyrokinesis: Creates or controls fire with your mind, but you must have a living flame nearby for a source. As stated above, this does not guarantee immunity fire, and there are myths of Demons and Shayds possessing a natural essence, giving them the name of fire-starters, but I have never encountered these individuals. However, I have heard of a bloodline of a new race of Demon that possesses a natural gift of fire, but I cannot claim the true existence.
Telekinesis: Influences a person physically, or moves items, and that is without touch, simply done with a wave of a hand or with the mind. Especially when provoked, and has most definitely proved useful. Any ranks and half-breed possesses Telekinesis, some more than others.
Thermokinesis: Changes the motion of molecules and cells by slowing or speeding them at faster paces, sometimes one can even change an individual’s body temperature.
Atmokinesis: Can change the weather, causing unnatural rain, thunder, or lightning, and in some cases, this allows one to manipulate Earthly elements and natural balances with, or without, reason.
Animal Communication: There are Demons, Shayds, and yes half-breeds, if practiced, that can communicate or control animals and wildlife, but this excludes aquatic creatures for the beasts of the water, do not live among us and are not easy to capture. This does not apply to supernatural creatures, or otherwise, if existing. And wolves, cannot be controlled for an unknown reason.
Electromagnetic Interference: This manipulates modern gadgetry and electronics.
Resurrection: Is a rare ability and only those gifted with the level five ranking can perform this act, but it is dangerous and not without repercussions for if an individual is dead longer than minutes, they will return and become a beast among mortals, craving living flesh. I have performed this to resurrect my brother and I thank all the Demons in Hell that he returned to me as he was before his passing. It does, however, drain a lot of energy, and it will take all if not practiced correctly. I beg you, please do not perform this, not unless you have to or are level five or higher, if such a being exists. Do beware of this please, my children, BEWARE.”
“Wow…” I muttered, leaning back against my pillows, as my eyes scanned my room, “that’s a lot, this is quite something.” I removed the heavy book from my lap, laying it next to me.
Zanzabarr sniffed the pages, then sneezed, jumping down off the ledge of the bed in one large leap. Retreating quickly into the bathroom, the wolf needed to relieve himself and if it had not been raining, he would have had the chance to run free and stretch.
Sighing softly, I removed my glasses, rubbing my eyes before I took a break from reading about to Demons, wanting to at least examine the covers of the Wraith and Lycynian volumes. Pulling them closer to me, laying them side-by-side, both of them were slightly different in size, but unique in their own ways. The Wraith book was bound in brown leather with one of its upper right corners torn, and worn lettering on its face. There was no title to signify the race that it recorded, but I had spoken with Marxus, he clarified which book was which. The symbol on the cover was so twisted in its shape, I don’t think I could describe it, other than looking like some sort of a tribal mark, maybe even a mask.
The author didn’t highlight it per say, but definitely outlined it in some sort of red pigment, one I’m sure was blood, for the scent of it was faintly metallic. Briefly flipping through its old pages that were written in blood, there were stains where the writing utensil had been applied to the parchment. Frowning, I became a unsettled by its creation, because in a fraction of a second, I wondered if those were parchment pages at all, and maybe not mortal sheets of thin, dried-out skin. Closing the book, pushing it toward the foot of my bed to examine the last book, a shiver slithered down my spine as I stared at the Wraith volume.
“Don’t think about it, Yza.” I shook my head, “Nah.” I reached for the last book, that wasn’t bound in leather or metal, but it looked more like wooden slats gilded in gold leaf. I could see the wood chipped and cracked through the gold paint. It was held together by large metal rings along its spine, and even though the first half of the book of this ancient artifact were slats, the remaining text toward the back were parchment, all from generations after the Lycynians were created in Egypt. Hieroglyphs carved on the surface of the cover slats, was a symbol of a dog’s head, and somewhat knowing some of my Egyptian mythology, I knew it signified Anubis, the god of the afterlife, but with a crescent moon between its ears and a word written in the glyph text beneath it.
“Ancient Egyptian, huh?” I whispered, “Impressive. My mom would love to read you.” my fingers ran along the image on the cover, then glancing over at Zanzabarr sitting beside me, for a moment, he stared at me front face and ears perked, “I should have named you Anubis.” I teased, leaning forward to scratch his head between his ears. Suddenly, I grew startled when a loud knock banged on the door. Breathing heavily, I turned, sitting on the ledge of the bed, while Zanzabarr grew nervous and protective, standing before the door, releasing a series of deep growls, followed by loud barks, with his tail hanging between his legs, “Who is it?” I called out, hiding the books in the trunk at the foot of my bed, covering them with the blankets hidden inside.
“Sarah!” her voice answered in a depressed tone.
Rushing over, running my fingers through Zanzabarr’s fur down his spine, instructing him to back away, I approached, opening the door slowly, and there she stood in the hallway, with the most dismal expression. I know I shouldn’t have, but I grew a faint smile, leaning against the door frame.
“You look bored.” I joked.
“How could you tell?” Sarah complained, hunching slightly.
“Your face says it all.” I stepped aside, allowing her inside.
Offering a smile, she stepped through the door. Her blue eyes scanned the room, nodding in approval. Walking over, softly plopping in one of the chairs, she let out a deep sigh, gazing out the balcony doors, watching the rain hit the railing. As it splattered onto the colored glass and the ground, Sarah said bluntly,
“I hate this bloody rain, it always rains here.”
“I actually don’t mind it.” I left the door open ajar, “Zanzabarr does though, poor boy wants to go for a walk and run.” I sat across from her in the other chair, “But the rain makes nature smell so clean afterwards. I guess that makes me a true water sign.” I grinned, looking at her.
“You’re a water sign? I’m an air sign, guess that’s why I’m a wee bit ditsy.” she giggled softly.
“You said it, not me.” I chuckled, raising my hands.
“Hey!” she threw a pillow at her.
Zanzabarr innocently mistook her friendliness as aggression, snarling deeply as he took menacing steps toward the young woman.
“Sarah, don’t move.” I warned.
“Don’t worry, I’m not.” she whispered.
“Zanzabarr, back away…back away, NOW!” I ordered loudly, clapping my hands loudly. Making eye contact with the wolf, he lowered his head, backing away. Seeing the submissive act and stance, I continued, “She’s a friend, Zanzabarr, you need to take it easy.” I stood, approaching the canine. Reaching for a nearby toy, I squeezed it quickly then tossed it over toward his bed, “Go get it.”
He ran for it, catching it midair in his massive jaws, then he jumped on the bed, chewing the toy aggressively.
Sarah watched as the half-breed and wolf interacted with each other, and it freaked her out. She slowly stood, muttering on about something nonsensical, then she turned, nervously and loudly fiddling with the door knob.
“Sarah…SARAH!” I called after her, “Please don’t break my door, it’s open.” I reached out, gently pulling it open.
“Oh, right.” she didn’t look at her, then glanced toward the bed where the wolf eerily watched her, “Bloody hell, how can you stand having such an animal like that?” she complained, “I’m out, if you want to hang, I’ll be at the manor.” she swiftly slithered out into the hall, closing the door behind her with a rough slam.
Sighing softly, I frowned.
“He’s just protective.” I complained, then turned to Zanzabarr, “Aren’t you, big boy?” I walked over, sitting on the ledge of the bed. Smiling, as he leaned in licking my face, I pulled my head away, “But you need to calm down, all right?” I listened as he released a brief bark, “God boy. Now, I’m going out.” I stood, and mentioning those last words, GOING ON, excited the wolf that lept off the bed, running for his harness, “Okay.” I smiled. Strapping him in his harness, I made sure the trunk at the foot of the bed was secure. Grabbing an umbrella and one of the large towels, I slipped out into the hall, locking my door then turned, venturing down the hall descending the stairs to the lounge, where my mom still sat in the kitchen with practitioners, “Good morning.” I waved quickly from the stairs.
Raising her gaze toward her daughter’s voice, Lady D smiled.
“I see you’re busy, so I’ll catch you later.” I interrupted before she could excuse herself from the table, “It’s okay, really. I’ve got to walk him anyway. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart!” Lady D called out. Watching as her daughter and her wolf slipped outside, she frowned as one of the men barked at her, demanding her to pay attention to their conversation, “I heard you the first time, Sir. There’s no need to yell at me, I’m right here, and that’s my daughter.” she looked at him, “She comes first, above all else.”
“Amen.” one of the women praised, “Mm-hmm, amen.” she looked at Lady D, “Thank you.” she smiled then looked back at the man, “Now shut it, you wee old bastard.”
The other men and women at the table, chuckled, including Lady D who managed to keep her composure well enough to get back to the conversation, literally sprawled out on the table.
Standing within the gated entry way, I opened the large a** umbrella and I’m not kidding it was larger than expected, and looking down at Zanzabarr gripping his leash tightly, he and I ran down the gravel pathway toward the manor, entering through the side entrance. Letting out complaints under my breath, shaking out the umbrella onto the large indoor mat, I watched as Zanzabarr reset, shaking the water from his fur. I leaned the umbrella against the wall to dry, then turned and knelt in front of Zanzabarr, drying his fur with the towel, of which I then hung over one of the chairs near the fireplace to dry.
“I know right, that was…” Sarah was talking when she heard a voice approaching closer. Turning around, she groaned with disappointment, “oh, you brought your dog. Again.” she complained, not being too fond of animals.
“Yes Sarah, I brought my dog.” I snapped at her, “Get over it. I brought his muzzle, don’t worry. He won’t bite, not unless I tell him to.” I frowned, then looked at the young woman that sat across from Sarah, “Hello.” I smiled.
“Sarah, I’ll catch you later.” she stood, quickly scampering out of the lounge, looking back a few times, before disappearing into the dining hall.
“She didn’t have to leave.” I protested against her leave.
“Well, she doesn’t like animals either so…” Sarah shrugged, “now that you’re BOTH here, what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, um this was your invitation so, it’s up to you. But if it’s all right with you, I just need to talk with Marxus.” I answered quickly.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” she shrugged again, “I’ll meet you in the dining hall, but take your mutt with you, yeah?” she stood.
“Sarah, look…” I gently grabbed her arm, “if you don’t like him that’s fine, but please do me a favor and keep your dislike to yourself. It’s insulting to me, and yes, him as well. Besides, he understands every word you’re saying so I’d be a just a bit careful.”
Looking at her, then down at the wolf, Sarah’s big blue eyes grew wide. Nodding, she accepted the warning then quickly scampered across the lounge, heading toward the dining hall.
“I know boy, I know.” I answered his soft whines through his muzzle. Following after Sarah but veering up the staircase, the door was closed. Knocking softly, I received no answer and I was about to walk away, when it opened a jar.
“Come in, Little One!” Marxus’ voice announced from inside.
Pushing it open, peeking my head inside, seeing him sitting in one of the chairs to the left of the room, he sat on the ledge, reading a letter with great concentration. Softly clearing my throat I whispered,
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
Lowering the note, he raised his gaze toward the door where the young woman stood with her large wolf that held his head low, watching him.
“Not at all, I’m actually glad you came. Come in, please.”
Sitting Zanzabarr by the door, I walked over sitting across from him, watching as he read the letter again. There was an awkward moment of silence between us when I need to know if everything was all right.
“I know it’s none of my business, but are you okay?”
“Hmm?” Marxus looked at her, “I’m sorry, what?”
“I did come at a bad time, I’ll go.” I shifted, ready to stand.
“No, please. It’s just…I received this letter, and it’s disturbed me greatly.” he held the parchment, “Here, you can read it if you’d like.” he handed it to her.
“Um, are you sure?” I gently took it from his hand, pausing a moment. Receiving a nod, I watched as he stood, approaching his patio doors. Lowering my gaze, reading the letter, I had to reread it several times myself with my own eyes, trying to understand its contents. Finally, laying the parchment on the table, I asked in a quivering voice, raising my gaze, looking around the room, “The men in that letter? Were they really looking for us?” I turned, studying Marxus.
Continuing to stare out the windows, Marxus slowly placed his hands in his pockets; the sun shone on his face as he replied, glancing over his shoulder toward her,
“Yes, yes they were, and they were asking a lot of questions.”
“But they’re not going to replace us here right, because you said we’d be safe! That’s what you promised!” my voice had fearful undertone. Rushing to my feet, I stood in front of the desk.
Marxus turned to her. Walking around the desk, he looked at her, with compassion filling his Hazel-brown eyes. Reaching out, placing his hands on her small shoulders, he offered his reassurance.
“You’re safe, Little One. You are, I promise. I will never let anything happen to you or your mother.” he pulled his hands away, “And the fault is mine, I shouldn’t have allowed you to read that letter, I’m sorry.” he turned, walking back toward the sitting area, reaching for the letter. Folding it quickly, he tucked it away in his pocket.
“No, I’m glad I did. My mom and I are settling in with a little too much ease, so that letter just helps me realize that even in a place like this, we’re still not safe. No matter how protected this place is, so thank you.” I held back my tears.
“Don’t thank me, sweet girl.” he said fatherly, “I’ve tried my hardest to protect everyone here, and so far so good.” he gave a faint grin, then returned to his desk, sitting in the chair.
Folding my arms, I stared at the contents atop the desk, then I wondered about something curious.
“Marxus, can I ask you something else?” my voice rasped.
“Of course.” he sat in the chair, looking at her.
“What happened to those men?” I studied his reaction, “Or is it something I even want to know the answer to?”
“That’s up to you, do you want to know?” he tilted his head, receiving a nod in reply, “Well, all I will say on the matter, is that they won’t be coming here, or going anywhere anytime soon. Knowing how Nikolaas and his associates handle men of their reputation, they handled them accordingly, just as the letter stated. I’m sure during your brief pass through Penrith, you must have sensed Nikolaas was a Demon, yes? Well, he’s a powerful one, and his associates, Steven and Roberto, they are both Wraith, and powerful in their own rights. As far as the souls of the Hunters, well let’s just that they won’t be put in a good place.”
“Yes, I…” I shifted, “I sensed his power when my mom and I were in his pub, very overwhelming and intense.” I shivered, “Wait, hold on, their souls?” I wondered curiously.
“Indeed. They were not good men and deserve to be put in a place where they are shown the deeds of their actions, and I rather doubt that place is up there.” Marxus fiddled his thumbs together, then pointed upward toward the Heavens, “No, I do not think so.” he cleared his throat then he kindly changed the subject, “Have you skimmed through the books I have given you?”
“Yes, I have actually.” I ignored his momentary rantings, “All morning to be precise, and I must say that the Demon volume is so infused with arcane magic, I had to stop reading it. I just can’t believe they’ve been around since the beginning of man, I mean that’s like…almost Adam and Eve era, right?”
“Yes, but who says there was just one Adam and Eve in the beginning, hmm? They couldn’t have started mortal kind just on their own for the sake of populating the planet, expanding worldwide.” Marxus answered bluntly, “That explains a few things, does it not? Especially the different cultures and races everywhere.”
I tilted my head, looking at him, because I never thought of it that way, and it was something to think about in depth later on.
“Think about it.” Marxus stood, “Now, is there anything else?”
“I just wanted to talk about the books, but it can wait until I bring them back.” I dismissed his coy, blunt attitude.
“No worries, now run along.” he gestured his hands toward the door, “Your friends are waiting for your return down in the dining hall.” he urged, “Go on.” he walked around the desk, gently facing her toward the door.
Shuffling under his guidance, I grabbed Zanzabarr’s leash, then opened the door, glancing at Marxus who seemed off. It was something I sensed in the bookshop, but I kept it to myself. Grinning quickly, I left entering the private lounge, then listened as the door slammed loudly behind me.
“Hmm.” I looked down at Zanzabarr, “What do you think?” I received a wag of his tail in reply, “Exactly.”
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