The lady's directions were helpful and accurate. Lazare had found the destination he sought, but he did not want to jump ahead of schedule, preferring to wait until the proper time to rejoin the residence. His footsteps led him to a nearby street, narrower and more discreet than the ones on the other side of the cathedral.
The street was reserved for establishments of the literary arts, such as poetry. Lazare found himself drawn to a particular place. It was midway between a library and a club.
Its exterior was rather classical and in line with modern architecture; the exterior shade was a pale version of an otherwise darker color. It had two windows and a door, just enough to qualify it as an establishment.
It seemed more reserved to the connoisseurs of the art, like many other boutiques in Merrial, where the primary method of publicity was through mouth-to-ear.
His gloved hands pushed the door open, activating a smell bell atop the wooden door that signaled his entrance to the people inside. He adjusted his top hat and entered.
It was cozy inside; a few plants stood next to the door, one of them accidentally touching Lazare's wrist, which he quickly covered with his coat. He stepped out of the way and into the main section of the library, where multiple seats and desks were available, followed by numerous shelves of books, from novels to poems; they even sold items such as notebooks and pens.
Lazare moved to a faraway table; interest lay neither in the solace of romance nor in the awe of fantasy. For the longest time, Lazare had been interested in the supernatural, and it had been on his 18th birthday, soon after his return to the family, that he became the owner of his dreams through a Book of Cards.
Lazare pulled out a strange, adorned book; its cover was made of a mysterious material called Quarta, azure and prestigious. He rested it on the table, showing the card-like design of the book, with the four corners featuring the diamond suit.
He began to flip a page, white and pure, with a crystal-like texture on his glove. The inside was as dignified as the outside; the book contained countless poems and verses, all telling the story of the same man: the first Emperor of the Northern Continent.
Those poems had the power of fantasy ingrained in them; they could change the world with words and intent; it was truly like a magical book.
He had spent countless hours studying the meanings of the prose and the intricacies of the work, and had tainted them with his own perspective and ideology; the poems of love could now have the power of death. It was all a matter of self.
Unfortunately, this book did not have the powers he wished for; his dearest was utterly impossible with such a limited area of effect. The powers necessary to find the man he was looking for were absent from the book, no matter how hard he changed his philosophies, and reuniting with her was also absent from it…
Lazare sighed and continued to flip the pages of the book, looking for a poem in particular. He thought about the origins of the books, the four emperors, and the culture of the continents; it was safe to say his best bet for finding the man was in the book club, the book more commonly found in the Eastern Continent. He believed the book to have a more fatalist approach, and the Emperor to have a better strategic mind than the Northern.
His mind was focused on the poems written, their meanings vague and meandering; to him, the Emperor seemed truly like a madman at times. A man of money and gold, doing everything for money, selling out his comrades or even his family, but he also happened to sacrifice his selfishness for his loves and passions, repeatedly making compromises for his people.
I really don't understand you, Alexandre. What a man you are.
Caught in the wave of poetry, he did not notice the girl standing next to him, silently tapping him on the shoulder. His reaction was grandiose and over-the-top.
"Ha, sorry to bother you; I just happened to see you with a Book of Diamond, and I wondered if you could help me on this one passage." The girl was confidently shy in a weird way; he couldn't decipher her character.
She had long black hair, tied in a high ponytail. Her eyes were of a pale blue, much like his. She was an impressive woman in more than one way; her height was outstanding for her gender, and she seemed to be of a particular intellect; she seemed like someone deserving of respect.
"There is nothing I can help you with, unfortunately; you must believe in what you say, this is the power of your words, not mine, or else the effect will be grandly reduced to a shell of its actual self." His eyes were calm and unwavering like the midnight sea; his temperament was as relaxed as his crystal eyes, and his words seemed to be forged from truth.
"I see… but can't you give me a hint of what you think? I can't even comprehend the words on the page…" She palmed her face for a second, embarrassed by her low reading comprehension skills.
"Which one is it?"
Her eyes brightened up as she took out the grimoire of poems, opened it at the correct page after flipping through the sonnets and verses of the Emperor, and then began to recite the words of her ancestor.
"To cross is naught, to stand, a trial most dire; It is between the two, that doom often descends."
The words came out fluidly and had a certain charm, but nothing happened after the young lady's words. Lazare remembered this poem relatively early in the volume of Alexandre's adventure poems.
"I see. Unfortunately, there is not much that ought to be done; I cannot simply give you my vision on the poem." Lazare's answer was still negative and unchanging; the poem would simply not work in the hands of someone who did not see it in the same light.
"Can you at least show me what it does?" Lazare began to think about the girl's proposition. There was no harm in showing her the magic of the poem, but he also feared he would taint her vision or cause unmet expectations.
Lazare stood up and invited her outside the library. As soon as she saw his proposal, she rushed herself towards her own copy of the book, slightly less fancy than Lazare's.
"…"
The two of them stood just outside the library when the girl showed her approval. Lazare began to open the book back to the right page and recited the lines, his right hand outwards towards her as if he would cast a spell on her.
"To cross is naught, to stand, a trial most dire; It is between the two, that doom often descends." His voice was more chilling and melancholic, as if the poem had turned into a dark one. The verse's previous enthusiasm was turned into a dramatic version.
The air shifted and took on a different mood; it was subtle but noticeable to those who paid attention.
Suddenly, the girl felt a certain dizziness touch her mind and senses; she was out of control of her body and began to move of its own.
Well, she stopped moving.
Her body collapsed on the ground, as if she had been hit by a hammer on the head; she lost all sense of direction and stability, and her body just gave up under the pressure of the poem.
Thud!
She fell on the ground, hardly. Lazare still looked at her, then pulled out the pocket watch and watched the time pass until about 7 seconds had passed, when she regained possession of her own thoughts and senses.
The girl jolted awake from the ground after the experiment. She held her head from the shock of hitting the ground. "I think I begin to understand a bit; It's about change, isn't it?"
Lazare looked at her with the same eyes as before, not letting an answer escape his mouth.
"I believe you can interpret it as such." He put the book back in his pocket, along with the watch. He looked at the sun, now beginning to fall from its apex and into the horizon.
I should probably get going; They should be ready enough now.
Lazare bowed politely to the girl and began to depart, adjusting his top hat and gloves.
He was surprised not to hear a girl shouting for her name, but it did not bother him much; quite the opposite.
"…"
The girl went back into the library to get her belongings. On the way, in the entrance, she noticed a particular detail that piqued her attention momentarily.
"That's weird. Why is the plant withered? I'm sure it wasn't like this last time. I'll have to tell the owner next time I see her. Sigh…"