Realms of the Arcane

Epilogue

Wes found his attention drawn yet again to the thin tome that had scared him earlier.

"The gods must be playing with me," he thought. "But the story about Jeffrey disappearing just might have some truth in it. How pleased the abbot would be with me if I solved the mystery."

He was torn between running from the room and wanting to finish Jeffrey's story. His hand shaking, he reached for the book and continued to read.

Jeffrey had gone to the north corner reading room and been at a loss to know where to start cleaning. The room was such a mess. Gathering a mop and bucket, he had lathered up the floor and then used a long-handled broom to sweep the cobwebs from the ceiling.

"Whew!" thought Wes. "This isn't me at all. I didn't mop the floor, and I haven't done the cobwebs yet." He felt a little guilty at this last thought and quickly returned to the story.

Jeffrey was tired after all the cleaning, so he had taken a short break. He leaned against a solid bookshelf and leapt back with a start as it moved.

"Whoa!" yelped Wes, and he pushed the tome away again. "This is too similar. How can this be happening?"

This time, it took several minutes before Wes felt ready to pick the book up again. Despite the cool room, he was sweating profusely.

He read that Jeffrey wanted to hide away from the monks for a while, even though he knew they would be angry when he eventually returned. The room was lit from an unseen source and filled with shelves, many of which had books or scrolls on them. A small table with a hard-backed chair was the only other furniture in the room.

Jeffrey selected a scroll at random and began to read. The scroll told a brief tale of a magical sword that could slay giants. Replacing the scroll, Jeffrey chose another and read its tale.

After many scrolls and tomes, Jeffrey spotted a very thin leather-bound volume wedged behind a shelf and…

This time Wes did scream. He hurled the book across the room and huddled close over the table as his whole body shook.

"It's not real. It's just a story," he told himself over and over again. Rocking back and forth and mumbling the short litany, he soon regained control of himself and decided it was time he finished the cleaning in the reading room.

As he moved toward the door, keeping well away from the thin tome, Wes felt a tugging inside him. Despite his fears of the story, he just had to know how it all turned out. He crossed the room and picked up the book. Wes found his place and continued to read…

As Jeffrey, in the book, skimmed the thin volume he had found, he read a story of a young probationer who had been taken in by the library when he was orphaned. The monks thought him lazy and good for nothing, and he had been chastised by one of the brothers for failing to keep the dining room clean. The young man's name was Niles, and Jeffrey recalled tales of Niles's being the probationer who had mysteriously disappeared more than a hundred fifty years before. Jeffrey had thought them no more than tales to frighten other probationers, but on the chance that there might be some truth to them, he had read further. If he could solve the mystery of Niles's disappearance, Jeffrey saw himself becoming something of a hero at the library.

Wes fought down the urge to run away, and forced himself to keep reading. Whatever this was about, he was a part of it now. He was more than a little worried about the two probationers who had disappeared, and what they had been doing just before, but his curiosity was winning the battle. He went back to the story.

Jeffrey had also opted to continue to read Niles's story, and Wes was hardly surprised to learn that Niles had been sent by the abbot to this very room to clean it for some scholars who were expected the next day. Like Jeffrey and Wes, Niles had spent around an hour cleaning the room before taking a break, and like Jeffrey and Wes, Niles had found the secret room with all the scrolls and volumes about magical and arcane things.

Niles, too, had read many of the volumes before finding a slim tome bound with leather, wedged behind a bookshelf and covered with cobwebs. And, like those who were to follow, Niles had read the story of a young probationer, Edmund, who was considered lazy and worthless. He had served in the library two hundred years prior to Niles's time.

Wes had to stop for a moment to calm himself. Just how many probationers had disappeared from here since the library was built? The answer may well lie in this story. He took a deep breath and read on.

Wes's temples started to throb with confusion: just who was the reader and who the subject of the story? Each time the story started over, the new point of view made Wes's head spin. It took a few minutes for Wes to work out how to follow the story without getting confused. Each story so far began with a probationer finding the room, and soon after, there was a short description of the library as it had looked when that part of the story was written. This was not just a history of disappearing probationers, but a history of the library itself. By focusing on when the many extensions to the library had been built, Wes found the story much easier to follow.

Niles had been a probationer just after a time of great change. The library had acquired a huge collection from the king of Cormyr. Cormyr had been at war for almost four years, and had emerged victorious after one of its wizards found the key to ending the war in the library. A huge collection, part of the spoils of war, had been given to the library by the grateful monarch. There hadn't been room to house the new collection, and two new wings had quickly been built to accommodate it. All this had happened during the two hundred years from the time of Niles until that of Edmund, the last probationer to go missing.

Wes put the book down again, and took a few deep breaths. The library had been here a lot longer than he had believed, if this story were true. And Wes wasn't even close to the middle of the book yet. He figured that was where the first probationer's story would be, and he hoped the stories would all reach their climaxes in the second half. He was up to five hundred years. The library could be closer to two thousand years old rather than one thousand, as most people believed.

Brother Frederick, the abbot, the visiting scholars, and everything else he should have been attending to were forgotten as Wes returned to his search for the start of the story.

Robar had gone missing two hundred fifty years before Edmund, in a time when the library's expansion had been quite slow. Only a few new volumes were added to the collection each year, and building wasn't a rushed affair. The large rooms in the south wing, and the ornate figures on the south wall, were added then.

Robar had followed Troyan, who had been missing for over four centuries. In Troyan's time, the library's great hall had been built. The original hall was now the accommodation area. Troyan had come to this room and picked up a very flimsy tome with no binding. He had been the one who had taken the book and bound it before he read what was in it.

Reading through all the layers of this twisted story, to the middle of the book, Wes discovered that the first probationer to disappear had been Bairn. He had been taken in by the monks when the library was being established, well over a thousand years ago. The monks had been discussing ways of protecting the library from the dangers of fire, vermin, and ignorant or selfish nobles who would not wish the works to be shared with any who had need of them.

There had been no solution settled on until one night Bairn had a dream in which a messenger from the gods visited him. The messenger told him the library needed a guardian entity, and that entity could only come from the life-force of one who truly believed in what the library stood for, and what it could mean to future generations. Bairn had wondered why he was the one chosen to receive this vision. Surely such an important message should have gone to Alaundo the Seer or one of the monks.

A tenday later, Alaundo made a prophecy that a young man would give himself to the library, to be a part of it forevermore, and that this man would be followed in the years to come by many more. These men would protect the library from all the forces of darkness and evil.

Recognizing the similarities to his dream, Bairn sought an audience with the seer, expecting to be beaten for his insolence. He was surprised when he got his audience the very next day.

The seer and the orphan met for many hours, while both of them had other duties that needed their attention. When the meeting was over, Alaundo left Bairn in his private chambers and instructed the monks that none could enter until the seer returned. When he did return and granted audiences to those he had ignored while he met with Bairn, many asked where the young man was. Alaundo just smiled and did not answer.

In those days, there had been few works in the collection, and the library was small in comparison to today, so Bairn had been able to carry out his task for almost six hundred years before he felt the need to choose a successor.

Now, in the second half of this history of Candlekeep, Wes began to read what happened to each of the following guardians, and how they had been chosen. Troyan had been the first of the probationers to be sent to the reading room, and there hadn't been as many volumes in the hidden chamber then. The shelves were all there, and the table and chair. The book was only a few pages back then, and Troyan had found nothing in it to trouble him. He had read about Bairn's disappearance, and had hoped to make a name for himself as the man who solved that mystery. When Bairn had appeared and offered him the guardianship, Troyan had learned that the table and chair had been Bairn's, and had been placed in the room by the abbot after Bairn came to him one night in a dream.

Troyan also learned that the guardian entity could see into the hearts and minds of all those who lived and worked within the library's walls, and so it could always choose the right person to take over as guardian.

Robar had learned that the guardian could not be harmed by any magic then known, and mundane items could not affect it in any way. Magical energy could be used to restore the entity's energies, but the guardian could not use those energies in any offensive manner. Its powers were those of defense only, but with those powers, it could defend the library against any attack. Spell energies were absorbed by the entity, and all forms of mundane weapons, from swords and arrows to ballista bolts, were deflected long before they reached the library walls. Neither could any army lay siege to the library, as the entity had the ability to extend its powers for almost a mile in any direction, and no army had the numbers to lay siege from so far away.

Edmund, in his turn, had learned from the guardian that it could also protect the library from less obvious threats, such as insects, mildew, vermin, and even the normal aging of the volumes. He had been curious about the other volumes in the hidden room, and had learned that each abbot and one of the senior monks was aware of the room's existence and could place volumes they deemed worthy into this room. Only a few select scholars were ever permitted access to the room, and only the chosen guardian was allowed in here alone.

Edmund had decided to help out scholars in the library who couldn't quite find the work they wanted. In his time as guardian, he began pushing works partly out of their shelves to attract attention to them. It always turned out that these works were just what a visiting scholar was looking for, or else they had been placed on the wrong shelf and needed to be moved. Edmund never pushed the works out too far; he didn't want to attract attention. Most of the monks believed that one of the gods of knowledge was responsible for pointing the way to the tomes that turned up just when they were needed.

Niles's curiosity had turned to the source of the light in this room. He had wondered why none of the others had noticed it earlier. His questions had revealed to those who were to follow that the guardian provided the light as another of its benevolent powers, but only when the chosen successor was in or near the room. The earlier guardians hadn't thought much about this as their minds had followed other paths.

When Jeffrey's turn had come, he wanted to know if the abbots ever felt a twinge of guilt about sending a young man to what amounted to his death. The entity had answered him by explaining that while those who made up the entity weren't alive in the sense that they had no corporeal existence, they most certainly were not dead either. The guardianship was something that was offered and accepted; it could not be forced on anyone. The entity was not an undead thing with some parody of life. Rather, it was a life-force of a different nature. It had claimed to dwell on a higher plane of existence.

Wes wondered how long it would be before the guardian appeared and spoke to him. Would it find him worthy? What would he do if it did? What would he do if it didn't find him worthy? Perhaps now would be a good time to leave this room and get back to what he was supposed to be doing. Wes put the book down on the table and hurried toward the door.

A chill breeze blew through the room. Wes looked up to see an indistinct figure floating in the air before him.

"Who are you?" he asked, wondering whether he could get out of this room before the apparition caught him.

"You know the answer to that, don't you, Wes?"

It was more a statement than a question, but Wes answered anyway. "Hello, Jeffrey. Have you come for me?"

The entity gave Wes an exasperated look. "Have you learned nothing from your reading? I can offer you the position of guardian, but no one can force you to take it. You may refuse me and return to your duties in the library. No doubt Brother Frederick will make your life a misery for a time, but if you survive that, you will probably become a respected monk at the library."

Wes looked surprised at this news.

"Wait a moment. You can see the future? Tell me more of my life in this world, should I choose to stay here and take my vows."

The apparition just smiled.

"No, I can't see the future. I can see into your heart, and I know that you have the qualities needed to make a fine scholar."

"But what are you? I know you are not undead, and you are not a god either. I just don't know what you are. Why do you need to choose a successor from time to time?"

"Please, stop. So many questions. In time, I will answer them all, and others you may have. But, let me answer those you have already asked first. I am the entity of the Candlekeep library. I was not the first, nor will I be the last, to bear that honor and responsibility. The library is more than stone and mortar, more than the works held within its strong walls. It is a symbol for the future. It holds the hopes of generations to come, and each generation, those hopes grow stronger as more and more works are added to the collection."

Wes looked puzzled. "But why have so many young probationers disappeared from here?"

"The library is, as I said, more than the buildings and works held within them. But buildings do not last forever, and parchment and vellum suffer the privations of age and vermin. Have you never wondered why the monks spend so little time maintaining the old buildings and instead devote more time to expanding the library? Have you never wondered why so few tomes are in poor repair, despite the use they get?"

"Well, I guess not."

"It is my job to guard the library from all forms of attack, be it a siege by a selfish lord who wants to hoard the knowledge in here, or a silverfish looking for a place to lay her eggs. I protect the library against all this, and more. But such protection comes at a cost. I do not have limitless power. As you rightly stated, I am not a god. I could perhaps live forever in this form, if I did not take my responsibilities seriously, but my life is tied to the library, and if the library falls, I will cease to be."

"So, you need my life-force to replace the power you have used in protecting the library?"

"That's almost right. If you agree to become the new guardian, it is your mind that will be in control here, not mine. Niles, and all the others, are still here as a part of me. But it is me, Jeffrey, who has control. I will relinquish that to you in turn, when the time comes."

'Will it hurt?"

Again, the entity smiled. "No. You will feel a brief tug as you make the change, but no pain."

Wes looked relieved.

"How do you know when it's time for a new guardian?"

"When my energies are low, it is time. I visit the abbot in his dreams and inform him it is time to choose a successor. Sometimes I chat with the abbot in the dream, and we discuss who it will be. Sometimes, the choice is clear."

"So, the abbot sending me here was no chance event. Was I a clear choice?"

'You will know the answer to that question only if you accept the offer."

"Has anyone ever refused?"

"Oh, yes. Several times the chosen one has not been willing to make the necessary sacrifice. One even went on to become abbot a few centuries ago."

Wes relaxed a little. He wasn't trapped then. There was still a way out, if he chose to take it.

"Tell me about those who refused."

"I will tell you of only two. The first was Jamel, and he was an early choice, made when we were not so sure about what qualities were needed to be worthy of this task. He came to this room and was approached by one of our aspects. The meeting did not go well. Jamel was too headstrong and set in his own ways to be able to do what was right for the library. At the end of the meeting, even though he had been chosen, he was not offered the guardianship. He returned to the monks and told them what had happened, but they thought him mad, and banished him from the library forever." Wes looked frightened. "And the other?" "His name was Rasalas, and he was a difficult choice. While he was worthy of the task, he also had much to contribute in the mortal world. He was offered the guardianship when he came to this room, but declined to take it. Rasalas returned to the monks but kept silent about what had happened until the abbot called him to an audience. He never revealed his meeting with us to anyone except the abbot, and he worked diligently at the library until he became the abbot. His time here was one of the richest scholastic periods since the library was established."

A thought struck Wes. "The pall over the library…?"

"It's because my energies are running low. I can no longer maintain the scholarly atmosphere of the library. If the library were attacked today, I could not defend it. That is why I need you to take over."

"Me? But I am not even a novice yet. To hear Brother Frederick tell it, I never will be. How can I be the one you need?"

"Remember what you read, Wes. What I need is someone who believes in the library and what it will mean to future generations. Those generations will not be your descendants, or mine, or any of the others who have gone before, but they will be the future and the hope of all the intelligent races on Toril."

Wes swallowed hard. "I don't think I am the one you want for this. I've learned more in this room today than I have since I was born, and the responsibility you offer is too great for one as ignorant as I."

The entity smiled patiently, as though this were something he had been through many times before. "It's not what, or how much, you know that's important. It's what's in your heart that counts for this task. The time for questions is over. You must decide. Wes, will you accept the guardianship of the library?"

Wes thought for a moment about what it would mean. Leaving everyone behind, and yet not really leaving them at all. He knew the honor was a great one, and that his efforts would shape the future of thousands of people of all races. Wes knew what he had to do. He gulped and squared his shoulders.

"Yes, I will."

'Then take my hand, and join us in our eternal task."

The entity held out an ethereal hand, and Wes took it. As he did so, three things happened at once. The thin volume he had been reading slammed shut and floated of its own accord back to the corner where he had found it.

Wes's body faded away to nothing, leaving no evidence he had ever been in the room.

The entity glowed brightly with the influx of life-force.

"Well," said Wes to the others he could now sense in the entity body, "let's get on with it." The new entity passed through the wall and disappeared, eager to assume its new duties.

In the hidden room, the only light now came from the magic. The shelves and their contents stood silent, waiting until the next time they would be needed. All was quiet, save for the tiny sound of a spider climbing down a bookshelf.

Wedged in a corner, behind a shelf, a thin, leather-bound tome was obviously out of place. A close inspection by anyone who had seen it before would have shown that it was not quite as thin as it had been a few hours earlier. Of course, there was nobody there to see it, except the spider that now began to spin a web around the book. Within a week, the cobwebs would again be thick around it.

In his private chambers, the abbot felt the pall lift from the library, and he smiled. Wes had been the right choice, if not the obvious one, and all was well in Candlekeep.