Welt found himself before a familiar sight: a blue-draped stone building stretched across the entire side of a street, with a great, dark wood roof that slanted steeply, casting a long shadow before it.
The Harvestlands Library was a proud building, with a good number of visitors coming in and out of it on days in the Harvest season such as this. It was a cornerstone of the town, and moreso for the entire area.
Knowledge was surprisingly available within the Harvestlands, with many books pertaining to agriculture filling the library, all capable of being loned out, or even copied, for a fee.
Many farmers use the tradition of reading and writing to pass technology onto their heirs, and so those of the area are, apparently, more highly educated than even most people across the rest of the world.
Welt had been to the library a few times in the past with Drun - learning how to learn was an important part of his education - but he still felt a feeling of nervousness when stood infront of the door.
As it turns out, though, Welt was surprisingly adept at navigating the library on his own. Something about the ready-made request to the clerk, the lack of pointless conversation, and the ability to be quiet and unbothered made him feel much more at ease then outside.
With the tall bookselves forming a portective barrier around him, as unbreachable as the Bulwark, he sat at a small, dusted table and began pouring over the historical books he'd collected.
[The Chronicles of The Champion of The Eyes, Vol. 2 - 6, Unknown]
[Champion Mythos and Theorems, Dwyra College]
[Breach Development and its Applications in Landscaping, Prof Runnan, Red City Alumn]
[Midway Expedition Reports (Partly Redacted), B.E.U 455]
[Harvestland Religious Tradition, Prof. Tawres, Dwyra Alumn]
[Poems about The Moon, Various Artists]
A small stack of well transcribed books laid before Welt, with a spectrum of different dyed leather bindings wrapping them with hard wood planks in their covers. He opened the Chronicles of The Champion of The Eyes, and started reading.
***
An hour disappeared for Welt in near silence, completely enraptured in the documented stories of the Champion of The Eyes - from a small House's Prince to an Old Kingdom Scouting Knight with an impressive number of well-document military missions from missions beyond the Bulwark, and even as far as scouting in the lands West of the Harvestlands.
Six Eyes... not it.
It seemed that The Champion of The Eyes had six detachable eyes that he could throw, place, reform, and reshape to suit his needs. They could even see things that were traditionally invisible, such as sounds, Heat, love, and hunger.
It is documented that he had a seventh eye, thrown away somewhere in the East. What it could see is never discussed in the volumes, to Welt's dismay.
The power of detachable eyes is not one that Welt had manifested. It seemed that the Champion had also been unclear on if his eyes came as a gifed Instrument, or a manifest one.
Instruments are the tools that a Champion has at their dispoal, like Welt's teleporting stick, the Blink Stick. A name that Welt decided described it aptly enough, and kept its surprisng lethality in combat a little understated.
A Champion's Instument is typically bestowed to them on Annointment. Since these Chronicles only began with Volume 2, that seen was sadly missing from the collection. There were references to it several times, however, with certain old hags looking reminding The Champion and their comrades of that pivotal moment.
Not like the... what even was he? A goblin? I thought they were made up?
Even if he was uncertain, Welt couldn't forget. The unnatural wideness to the creature's face, its clawed and bleeding scalp with thinned hair combed over it. And, the grin of jagged, but white teeth it flashed as fire erupted around the farm.
Someday, he'd like to wipe that grin from the thing's face. Maybe with its own walking stick?
Welt slumped back down, making a few notes on some cheap parchment, and continued reading.
***
The book on Champion Mythos published by Dwyra College seemed to be a collection of articles written by students over the years. They had revision notes covering the margins and squeezing between lines, all messily penned by professors. Those revision notes and suggestions were the most useful things within the collection, showing corrections to assumptions that even Welt had thought about Champions before reading. He hoped that, whoever these professors were, he might get the chance to speak with them someday.
The contents of the articles were nothing special, sadly. Simple and straightforward re-tellings of Champion tales from the past with historically-backed corrections and suggestions. A lot of trying to parse the truth from all of the stories.
Few Champions were as well-documented as The Champion of The Eyes, after all. A lot of their deeds and accomplishments were misremebered or greatly exaggerated by witnesses. These papers and articles tried to use documented history to try to find truth within the stories.
Though, there was one article that caught Welt's attention:
[Fables To Interpret, Not Decipher]
It was a paper written to argue that some stories from the past, while not truthful, still tell the truth through their exaggerations. The embellishments in the stories serving a purpose, as opposed to being a product of human error.
The article was coated with corrections and revisions, to the point that Welt struggled to read through it. However, he found the underlying theory of it to be interesting, and definitely not as bad as the professor marking it seemed to think.
Though, Welt remained disappointed, with most of the information within them being things he already knew from his curriculum with Drun.
Welt looked up from the bound collection, and noticed a woman sitting across from him.
She carried with her the smell of war: metal and iron blood scents marching through the stale air of the library. A collection of metal adornments clung to her neck and wrists. Bracelets, necklaces, and cast insignias all incasing those few spots like impenetrable armour. Her ears were pierced, with small metal rods on hooks dangling at ease from each. Each item was bulky, and dull, as if jewlerry made from battle-ready steel, not silver or gold.
Her face wore a scowl, scrunched from struggling with reading the book before her. Her bright yellow eyes strained at every word, and small grumbles and sighs escaped her steel-studded, vermillion lips from time to time.
She continuously read and re-read paragraphs, trying to grasp their meaning. Flicking back and forth between pages as if posessed, with her back hunching her closer and closer to the pages with growing frustration and confusion.
Eventually, she put the book down, looking up in annoyance.
"What?"
...
...
Oh, shit.
"S-sorry!"
Welt put his head down, quickly opening the third book, the report on landscaping, and began reading.
Well, pretending to read. He was scanning the pages without really understanding the words, turning the page dreadfully fast, as if reading at light speed.
The dull clangor of steel echoed in the quiet space, and a wooden chair scraped with a sudden squeak across the floor under Welt's feet. He heard footsteps approaching, and his fake reading sped up. He'd read about 30 pages in the past 10 seconds, apparently, not taking in a single word.
A hand came down onto his table, right beside him. Steel bracelets and shackles percussed the sudden thud of the forceful palm strike next to him. Following the impressively marked arm up, Welt saw the beginnings of shoulder-length, golden hair, with a small brushing of red hues in the layers beneath the surface. It swayed for a single moment before stopping, as if ordered to stand at attention. Welt felt his blood do the same, looking up past her hair to meet the woman's hard, gilded stare.
"Hey. Help me with this."
...
A few seconds passed in silence. By the time Welt had turned the hundreth page in his embarassed state, the book on Landscaping flew across the room. Tossed by the woman's hand, colliding with a shelf of books across from them.
Welt stayed in silence for a moment, keeping his stare fixed exactly where the book had rested, and slowly reached for another book from his stack.
Before he could open it, it was similarly tossed away, causing a dozen books to fall loudly to the floor.
...
"Hey. Don't ignore me."
Welt slowly looked up.
He was nervous, but also a little angry.
"Hm? I'm sorry, you were here?"
The table went flying, colliding with the gentle librarian just as she made her way to investigate the noise.