The Restless Library

It was a warm day.

Most days are warm when you spend your time in a cluttered library without many windows. They are even warmer when there are eternal flames scattered about for light. Alfred didn’t mind warmth; he never had. If anything, he preferred it to the frigid gusts that made those few windows rattle in their frames each night. But today was warm and Alfred was dozing in one of the comfy chairs around the hearth. It was only proper after all because Alfred had spent the last… day? Twelve hours? Eternity? arguing with a particularly bullheaded old wizard who insisted that Evelyn The Kind died of a broken heart after the Avem-Terran Mage War. The old rooster was adamant that that was the truth (based on a folk song no less!) despite the existence of Evelyn’s ledger which indicated that she returned home after tending to the wounded and helping the two sides come to terms. This was supposed to be common knowledge amongst the historians here!

Alfred felt something cold touch his cheek and woke with a startle, nearly falling out of his chair in the process. Whirling around he saw Jared, an old friend, with a cup of coffee, a jar of bread, and a mischievous grin on his face.

“Wakey wakey, Mr. History Teacher!” He said with entirely too much enthusiasm. “If you sleep any longer then you might just become part of that chair!” He offered the coffee and bread.

Alfred took the food gratefully as he stretched his legs noticing how cold the jar of bread was. “Did you deliberately grab the coldest one or was it an honest mistake?” Alfred drawled while sipping the lukewarm coffee.

“I would Never!” Jared proclaimed with mock offence. “No, it’s just that cold out there. In fact, if I hadn’t arrived here with some food then you probably would have been snowed in with nothing at all!”

Sure enough, it only took a quick glance at the door shaking on its hinges for Alfred to see that Jared was correct. They would probably be best off weathering the storm here in the library. Alfred paced around to ease the knots out of his legs while Jared tried to heat the bread back up by the fire. A few of the library attendants wandered over, perhaps attracted by the smell of warm bread, and sat down by the fire.

Naturally, they were wolves.

Alfred was never quite sure how the headmaster had managed to train wolves to upkeep a library, or even how many he had trained to do so, but Alfred had stopped worrying about it long ago. This is a wizard’s college, after all, and these things tended to happen.

“Fenrir!” Jared exclaimed excitedly, as he walked over to a wolf that had just made itself comfortable in Alfred’s chair.

“Fenrir?” Alfred asked confused.

“Well of course! That’s this good boy’s name!” Jared said as he scratched Fenrir under the chin.

Alfred stared at Jared as he said, “Dude, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same dog twice; let alone enough times to recognize and name them.”

“Well, this one is easy to pick out! I mean, look at how happy he looks!” Jared proclaimed as the hound glanced over at Alfred looking nearly identical to every other wolf in the library.

“Yeah, I don’t see it Jared...”

“Buzzkill.”

………………………………………………………………….

Something was wrong, Alfred was certain of it.

Jared was stretched out asleep on the rug, Fenrir was watching the fire from his chair, and Alfred had not seen hide nor hair of anyone else in the library other than the occasional wolf attendants replacing books.

So why was Alfred tense? Stealing glances over his shoulder and jumping at small noises? He was tempted to wake Jared or call Fenrir over but every nerve in his body was telling Alfred to stay as still as possible and hope that this presence leaves without incident.

Wait, a presence?

It was no later than an instant after Alfred realized that it was a presence in the room that Alfred looked up and saw her.

Alfred barely choked back a scream. The woman before him was a horrifying sight, with immense magic energy radiating off of her and armor resembling dragon heads. Worse still was her face, which was frozen in a sinister smile, horribly scarred, and looked as though the skin had solidified into ceramic; more akin to a mask than a human face. Her eyes burned with cruelty and intelligence… and were fixed directly upon Alfred.

“Too bad” She purred, “You’ve already left this life behind.”

Alfred whirled around to shout a warning to Jared but, in the spot that Jared had been peacefully sleeping a moment ago, there was now a thin and withered corpse wreathed in chaotic emerald flames. It had an arm extended as though it were reaching out to him. And behind the corpse was Fenrir who was now looking at Alfred with his canine face twisted into a manic smile.

“heh heh heh…” The wolf began to laugh. And, as its mouth opened wider, Alfred saw that its entire skull had been warped into a horrific grin as it continued to laugh louder and louder.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Alfred woke with a start. Fenrir’s sick laughter still echoing in his ears. Alfred looked and realized that Tawney, his traveling companion, was carrying him slung over his shoulder. The young wizard realized that he must have fallen asleep at the tavern. Alfred looked at his magic-scarred hands, still shaking and smoking from the fire he must have summoned in his panic, and mumbled to himself, “It was just a nightmare… A bad dream…”.

If only Alfred could believe that it was.