Kavallac’s voice was somber, and her eyes orange—but they were always orange if she was standing anywhere near Androsse. “We were not randomly chosen, and we were not the only people who applied.” She used the Elantran word, not the High Barrani equivalent. High Barrani didn’t have an equivalent—just words that implied supplication or pleading from a position of unworthiness.
“The library predatesRavellon. It was the sole creation of an Ancient who valued memory. Memory as a concept was, I believe, almost foreign to the Ancients, given the records extant within the library. Immortals are known for perfect memory, perfect recall; the Ancients were not dissimilar.
“But the creation of the library arose because that Ancient understood that even if memory is a constant, it relies on experience. What I see, hear, touch, I remember. But I cannot see, hear, or touch every living thing, cannot therefore be present for every action taken. No more could the Ancients. It was meant to be a repository of things that one could not personally experience, given the time in other endeavors life demands.
“The custodians chosen were those whose beliefs and dedication most closely mirrored the Ancient’s intent. We are not the first who have served in these posts, but due to the natureof the changes in the world beyond our doors, we are likely to be the last. There are no Ancients who walk, now. The library’s creator cannot choose new Arbiters from among those who are willing to dedicate eternity to the library.
“Inasmuch as I could be said to have a hoard, it is the library. But it is notminein the way that hoards are claimed by Dragons.”
Kaylin exhaled. Androsse’s eyes were midnight, but he didn’t disagree with anything Kavallac had said. This was probably a record for the two Arbiters.
Kavallac turned to Arbiter Androsse. “I’m sorry to have interrupted you, Arbiter Androsse. You were speaking of the Erenne mark and its creation.”
He ignored her apology, focusing on Kaylin instead. “Arbiter Kavallac mentions the Dragon’s hoard.”
Kaylin nodded.
“To Dragons,thatis the expression of so-called love. The Empire you call home is a Dragon’s hoard. But Dragons have become maddened and destructive in their pursuit of their hoard. We have historical records of a time when two Dragons laid claim to the same hoard—to great ruin for all. Do not tell me that that is not love; itis. It is the draconic expression of love. Do you not understand that love in the great and ancient can lead, inevitably, to ruin?”
“But you’rehere,” Kaylin countered, ignoring Starrante’s waving arm. “Kavallac is here. Starrante is here.”
“The word you want isdedication, perhaps—but the library is not what you came to discuss, and it is not where our efforts have been pointed in order to find answers to your trivial question.”
“If it was trivial, the information wouldn’t be here,” Kaylin countered.
This forced Starrante to clear his throat, or the equivalent of it for Wevaran. “Corporal, allow Arbiter Androsse to returnto his explanation of the results of his research. Not all of the information we find is to our liking; Arbiter Androsse—as any living, breathing being—has thoughts and opinions of his own. They do not change our archives; they do color our reactions to what we find therein.”
“So... he’s irritated because love was somehow involved in the creation of the mark?”
Starrante’s eye stalks bowed, which Kaylin took to be a nod. “It is a spell, of sorts. It cannot be applied if the person who has chosen to do so has no innate magical power.”
“But it can be applied without the permission of the person who bears the mark.”
“Demonstrably. Arbiter Androsse?”
“You bear the Marks of the Chosen,” Androsse said, tone curt, eyes narrow. “You bear them in ignorance, and it is clear that permission was not sought before they became yours.”
Kaylin frowned but nodded.
“You are aware that there are Immortals who feel the nature of their True Names is a shackle, a binding, a limitation.”
Kaylin nodded again. She did know. She’d seen the results when Barrani attempted to remove themselves from the True Names that were the source of their life.
“We are far more flexible than the Barrani who bear such a striking physical resemblance. The hands that created my kin—those the Barrani call Ancestors—created the Barrani, as if the Barrani were a refinement, an improvement.” There was definitely annoyance in his tone. “My kin could improve upon ourselves, could add words to the sentences that inscribed the start of our existence.”
Kaylin’s brows rose as she considered the implications of that.
“Yes. You understand. We could empower ourselves, adding words that suited both our purpose and our existence; we could grow, and we could change, becoming more than we hadbeen at our inception. Those changes were not guided by the Ancients, but by ourselves and the experiences that shaped us.
“Among any race, there are those who rise, those who shine, those whose brilliance casts shadows across their kin.”
Kaylin nodded.
“Among my kin, in our youth—or perhaps our middle age, for we were not young as even the Barrani might conceive of youth—was one such Ancestor. Did you know that we were not given a racial name? It seemed our creators truly wished for us to flourish as individuals. But could we, we might have claimed kinship with Angrelados, for he was the best of us, even in my own estimation.
“What he wished for was companionship. But his attempt to create the bonds that True Wordscanfoster were met, always, with failure, disaster, even betrayal. The power that he had built over time was far too overwhelming. In the best case, knowledge of his name, sight of it, devoured those whose sense of self was not nearly as deeply rooted; they became part of him.
“In the worst case, they attempted to do what Barrani oft do when such vulnerability is offered: control, overwhelm, command. He wished to be met by equals—but therewas no equality. Only in the case where the foolhardy desired to commune with the Ancients was there greater risk. Even in the absence of the desire to do harm, to cage, to control, the simple difference in power was overwhelming.