Session 0 - Linnet

The quiet and insular halls of Saine holds much knowledge of the modern world and the one long past, but those halls also hold little promise for those wishing to explore that world in anything other than the written word. Two sylphs fled some time ago to find their way, one following the world outside, another following the inner world, just with wider margins.
Linnet Leveche, part-time black mage, part-time library assistant, full-time administrative leave, has the entire world at her disposal, on yet another free day.
Or at least, that was the expectation on a mild spring morning…
A knock comes at Linnet’s door, for the first time in a week.
Linnet closes the door to her aviary – in other words, the spare bedroom carpeted in old newspapers and filled with bird cages and perches – and floats to the front door, peeping through the spyhole.
Through the peephole, she sees the top of a wooden walking stick, broad and large, with enough room to carry an open book on top. There is a book there now — something small, with some carefully hand-drawn diagrams on it — and then the book is bonking into the door again.
That’s officially odd. Linnet opens the door and does not try to hide her puzzlement. “May I help you?”
A tonberry looks up at Linnet, pale bluish-green skin and gleaming yellow eyes, wearing a comfortable pink wool sweater and long blue skirt. Linnet most certainly recognizes Senior Librarian Jehu Thornwell, but the walking stick seems new.
“Eep! I mean, um, hello, Senior Librarian, ma’am. How can I be of service?” Linnet realizes her jeans are frayed and her tunic is dotted with bits of songbird down. Surreptitiously, she tries to straighten up several aspects of her appearance at once while being inconspicuous. Neither effort really works.
Thornwell gives her a kindly smile, one that certainly hides eons of steel. Popular rumor is that Thornwell has been at the library for over a hundred and fifty years, with whispers that their Memoria is purposefully being ignored just so they can hound junior librarians for all of eternity. “I wanted to speak to you, Linnet. And since you cannot exactly come by my office, it seemed fair that I come by yours.”
“Um, yes, of course. Please come in.” The back bedroom may not be fit for receiving guests, but Linnet’s living room is at least passably clean and decorated with framed sheet music. Matching floral couches bracket a large coffee table almost entirely covered in books and abandoned mugs.
All of Linnet’s books are immediately being Appraised. (The books are an eclectic jumble of research tomes, beloved old novels, old-looking finds that Linnet picked up at thrift sales and hasn’t gotten around to evaluating yet, and extremely stuffy philosophy texts coated in a thick layer of dust.)
Linnet hastily sweeps up a few of the less clean mugs and dumps them in the sink. “Tea? Coffee? Wine?”
“I do have to return to work after this, so wine, and thank you.”
A bottle of passable white wine is produced and opened. “So what brings the Senior Librarian all the way out to an assistant’s student apartment? That was rather a lot of stairs up, I apologize.”
Thornwell settles their tail behind them and rests against it in place of sitting in a chair, and nods approvingly at something on Linnet’s shelf, though she can’t tell what from this angle. “I happened to learn about something very interesting yesterday evening, Linnet, and I felt that you were the best person to call on regarding this.”
“…while I’m intrigued, ma’am, is this an explodey kind of interesting? Because there’s a reason they mostly refer to me as ‘ohfortheloveofallthegodsLinnet.’ Or sometimes ‘that flighty head-in-the-clouds Linnet.’”
The Senior Librarian allows themselves a small smile. “It is, but not quite in the way that you would immediately expect.”
Linnet suppresses a snort. “In that case, please do continue.”
Thornwell spins the walking stick around and holds the page of diagrams under Linnet’s nose. “Tell me, what do you make of this?”
That is a diagram on magic, specifically the parts of it that interact between the brain and the Job Crystals that were in active use during the Alternan Empire. There are some notes jotted down on the side about ‘suppression’ and ‘reclassification.’
“Whoa. That…wait. Suppressing the job crystals? I’ve never heard of this before.” Linnet has been thoroughly nerd-sniped and could easily spend twenty minutes poring over this and muttering to herself. “This looks old, but not falling-apart old, so it’s either incredibly well preserved or not as old as I thought.”
Thornwell smiles. “Good eye, Linnet. I knew we made the right decision in hiring you. This is an analysis of an old text from the early Alternan Empire on the nature of the ‘veins’ of magic inherent in Black Mage Job Crystals. The diagrams are original to the work, but all of the analysis and documentation is unfortunately pulled from memory, speaking to those who worked on papers involving the original, back just before the fall. So, helpful and interesting, but hardly something worth waking up for. For that, a copy of the original text would need to be found.” Shelets that silence just sit there for a moment.
“…and you have at least a glimmer of an idea where to look, but you can’t go yourself because the library would grind to a squealing halt in your absence.” The thoughtful tone in Linnet’s voice gives no hint of joking. “And this isn’t a public enough project to send an official university research expedition. May I ask why?”
“I received a letter in the mail yesterday from an old friend of mine in Caerwyn. I went to see him about seven months ago, and he told me he would have quite the surprise for me in time. Apparently that time came, because I received one page of that book — that original book — and I know there is more where that came from, quite clearly. It is part of a collection of books he collected over the years that is set to be auctioned for charity at his estate, just a stone’s throw from Bernier Station in Caerwyn.” She swishes the wine about in her glass. “The title, of course, is something hopelessly uninteresting, and the types of people who go to these estates are far more interested in ancient blades and elaborate artwork than they are a stack of old books that will be entirely too heavy to carry. Therefore, a young and enterprising collector would be the perfect bidder.”
“Indeed. And…sorry to ask, ma’am, but when your brother’s been with an adventuring party for a while, you get a sense for these things. You do in fact want me to bid on the item, rather than, for example, stealing it?” She flushes in embarrassment at even bringing up such a topic before the head of the entire library, but best to get this cleared up beforehand.
“Oh, certainly, bid on and win the book. I would never tell a member of the library to acquire a book illegally, and I will have an account set up for you in your name for the action. Of course, private collectors are quite resourceful, and there are many books in that collection that, I’m sure, would be a delightful addition to anyone’s shelves.”
“If you care to send me with a further shopping list, I can send them by courier when I get back, so I don’t have to set foot on campus.” Winking would be out of place, but the corners of her eyes crinkle in amusement. “And, well, I do have a few unoccupied stretches of wall, and bookshelves are cheap…”
Thornwell smiles warmly, though the steel of “get the book” is still there somewhere in the sheath. Then she softens. “Linnet, I am sending you after this collection because I do believe you have an honest interest in the topic of that book, beyond it just being an incredibly rare and valuable tome. But by no means do I want you to feel as if you are out of place or unwelcome in our library. You are a librarian, no matter your other skills. Nothing IN that book will determine your suitability to return to our library. Just the book itself, you understand.”
That was… probably a joke?
Linnet ducks her head and blinks several times to brush back a wave of threatening tears. “I won’t let you down, ma’am. When is the auction, and…do you actually have the title? Because that’d help.”
“The auction is in a week’s time. Your train will take three days to get there from here, so take your time getting ready to leave, or arrive early and do something other than studying the auction hall for getaway exits. The book is ‘Green Study, Vol. 1.’ There was never a Volume 2, and no one knows why the author chose ‘green’ as the descriptor. It will be part of a batch of books being sold, likely a dozen or more. The books were never his focus.”
“Not a whole lot of point in my waiting around here for several extra days. I have a friend looking in on the birds. Oh, um, before I go. Does your friend have a name? And would it be prudent to introduce myself somehow, or just remain as an anonymous young collector?” A thought occurs to her. “…you said it was being auctioned at his estate…are we talking ‘estate’ as in fancy house, or as in remaining possessions of a dead person? Or both?”
“Both. Sindarius Valles. The estate is in his name. I believe yesterday marked one year to the day of his Memoria’s completion. He timed the letter perfectly.” She smiles wistfully. “He always had excellent timing.”
“Oh. Um. If you don’t mind my asking, would it be more appropriate to express condolences on his passing, or congratulations upon completing his Memoria, or both, or something else entirely?” Linnet doesn’t really know many tonberries and certainly doesn’t usually have them over for wine in her apartment, so this is a research opportunity. Sort of.
“Both would be acceptable. If you wanted to bring a small token of respect, a candle is always well-received.”
“I will. Thank you. And my condolences to you, ma’am. I will do my best to honor his memory for the library. …and hell, for all of us. Knowledge lost is a terrible thing. So it’s up to us to make sure it doesn’t get lost.” Linnet raises her wineglass in salute and takes an awkward sip. She makes a mental note not to buy this brand of wine anymore.