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I exhaled. “So…none of the scrolls have all of their words or letters?” I asked.
“No,” grunted Ishan. “That Godsdamned Afeyan!” He glared at Ramia.
“No offense, I’m sure,” she said sweetly.
“Offense was meant,” Ishan snapped.
“Hush,” said the older librarian.
“You hush, Omur! These scrolls are going to take months to fix, to corroborate and decode with each missing piece.”
“So they’re complete?” I asked. “All together, all of Sianna’s words are here?”
“And her letters, too,” said Ishan. “We think.”
“You need respect,” said Ramia with a hiss. “Her grace deserve your respect.”
Ishan glared. “And you, Afeyan?”
Ramia huffed. “I only half-Afeyan. I also Lumerian. Do not forget.” She stroked the hilt of her stave.
“Well, your grace,” Omur said softly, “I’m afraid that after the scroll was returned, some magic of the Afeyan Ambassador damaged the scrolls—including the ones he hadn’t touched. Unless you’d like to spend the next month down here decoding, you’ll have to come back to perform a proper read.”
“I’ve already waited a month.” I glared at Ramia, wondering if she had known about this, if she’d had anything to do with it. She’d given me Sianna’s first scroll to begin with, and she’d seemed to know the state of the scrolls already. “Have you read the text?” I asked.
“Your grace,” said Ishan, his voice impatient. “We are reading now.”
“But you had the copies. Tell me what you know about this text.”
“Are you asking me to summarize?” Ishan asked.
“Give her grace what she ask for,” Ramia hissed.
Omur jerked his chin at Ishan—clearly outranking him.
Somehow, despite all the scrolls on his body, Ishan folded his arms across his chest and said, “Lumerians lose the War of Light against Moriel who defected and sided with the akadim. Lumeria sinks. The Valalumir is shattered into seven shards—all the pieces lost. Sianna and Asherah land ashore after the Drowning. Prince Kormac parts ways from them all, wishing to head to the mountains of what becomes Korteria. Asherah mopes about the beach without any power—it seems to have vanished the moment the waves came. There’s maybe three hundred pages where nothing happens. We’re reminded of Asherah’s history. She was a goddess. She was chosen to become a guardian. She was a guardian of the Valalumir until she and Auriel…well, you know. Meanwhile, post-Drowning Lumerians who survive the ocean befriend the Dobrans. They settle, they begin to carve out life and recover. The Afeya,” he paused, his eyes flicking to Ramia, “are cursed by the Valalumir for not taking arms against Moriel in the war and are forced to live as immortals, unable to use their magic for themselves, only at the request of others.”
Ramia’s eyes narrowed to snake-like slits.
Before the Drowning, the Afeya had just been Lumerians. But they hadn’t wanted to fight. I’d also heard stories of the Afeya joining Moriel’s forces, fighting alongside the akadim.
“Auriel is reunited with Asherah,” Ishan continued, “and her power returns.”
“How?” I asked. “How does it return? What words does Sianna use?”
“She doesn’t. She says it returns.”
“That can’t—” I threw up my hands, practically groaning in frustration. I whirled on Ramia. “Did you know?”
“I know how scroll end.” Ramia shrugged. “Maybe boys need my help, yes?”
“Ramia,” I said, “why did you offer to bring me down here?”
“You ask. You want to come down to restoration. Nabula say wait. Ramia takes you.”
“Does anyone in this room know anything else about Asherah regaining her power?”
Omur shook his head. “My apologies, your grace. Asherah is most famous for being a guardian of the Valalumir and for inspiring its theft. There’s a lot written about her that is myth, so much that is legend, and some that is true. Perhaps when the scrolls are revived, you can do your own research, see what we may have missed.”
