Confusion » Lair » Hermaeus

Hermaeus

(#24702059)

Level 1 Imperial

Familiar

Fancy Terror Bird

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

29.48 m

Wingspan

21.74 m

Weight

8580.92 kg

Genetics

Eldritch
Iridescent

Abyss
Facet

Phthalo
Glimmer

Hatchday

Jun 18, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Light
Common

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

H E R M A E U S

Hermaeus snapped the thick iron lock shut, binding the old oak doors together. Another day at the library had come to a close. He loved his job, he really did, but it got a bit boring after one had read every book in the collection. Gods' sakes, he'd even read the Sornien Dictionary cover to cover. If those simpletons in charge of the clan's vault didn't give him funds to buy more books soon, he felt he'd go mad.

Having finished locking up, the imperial trudged back into the depths of his cavernous library, studiously checking each shelf for any misplaced books. He was fond enough of his clanmates, but he trusted them about as far as he could throw them, which, considering his wiry frame, wasn't very far at all. Once he was satisfied that all was as it should be, he grabbed one of his favorite tomes - A History of the Beastclans by Thadius Gladeclaw - and turned to go to his room, nearly ramming face-first into a hulking, grey-furred monstrosity.

"Gods above, Nettle, what have I told you about sneaking up on me?" he sputtered, stumbling back a step. The creature in front of him snorted. It looked like a bear, but twice as large and covered in thorny vines. The luminescent blue mushrooms dotting its hide cast a faint, eerie glow on the shelves around it.

"An apology would be nice," Hermaeus prodded, fixing it with a stern glare. It snorted again and lumbered away, presumably to knock over a bookshelf or chew on some important document.

"Disrespectful beast," the imperial muttered. He'd adopted the bear as a cub, and though it was a dear friend, it was also incredibly insubordinate. Personally Hermaeus blamed the library's patrons for spoiling it. He'd put up a "don't feed the bear" sign for a reason, damn it, and still those idiots insisted on-

He was snapped from his thoughts by a loud, frantic knocking. What the...? The library closed at sunset, it always did. What sort of fool would be trying to check out a book at this hour?

Unless they aren't here for the library.

The thought came unbidden to his mind. Hermaeus couldn't help but grin. Ah, yes, it had been a while since he'd had one of those patrons. He whistled for Nettle before making his way back to the oak doors. The bear's protection was rarely needed, but it was always nice to have, especially during exchanges like this. After taking a minute to compose himself, Hermaeus removed the padlock and pulled the doors open, revealing…

"Vorsic?" The librarian quickly cleaned his glasses, wondering if they'd obscured his view, but when he put them back on the massive black guardian was still standing there.

"Yes, it's me. Would you let me in already? The last thing I want is to be seen here," the engineer snapped.

Hermaeus obligingly stepped aside, motioning for Nettle to do so as well. "Dear Lightweaver, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you out of your lab."

"Probably because you never leave the library."

"Touché." Hermaeus closed and re-locked the doors, then motioned for Vorsic to follow him. He led the way through the winding maze of bookshelves to a small reading nook, the floor of which was covered in soft, fluffy pelts. Vorsic eyed them disdainfully and fixed the librarian in his electric blue gaze. "You know why I'm here."

"I have a few guesses, yes."

"I require your services. I can pay, of course, if that is what you wish."

"Hm." Hermaeus curled up across from the guardian, his familiar settling close by. "You do know I don't accept treasure, right? Are you sure you can cover the price?"

Vorsic muttered something under his breath, fishing around in his overcoat. "Yes, I know what you want. Here." He pulled out a thick, leather-bound tome and set it on the ground between them. A glowing Water rune dominated the center of its dyed-blue cover, and the pages sparked with barely-contained magic. A thick leather strap was bolted to it so that the owner could easily carry it with them. Hermaeus gently picked it up, careful not to jostle or open it. "Where did you find this?" he asked, stroking its cover reverently.

"Called in a favor," Vorsic grunted. "Gave some money to a friend of mine in the Sea and told her to find something good. She came back with this."

"I see." So you have no idea what this is, Hermaeus mused. I should have expected as much. He set the book next to Nettle. "Well, it should cover the cost of whatever it is you wish to know," he said, "so ask away."

Vorsic hesitated, then leaned a bit closer. "You do guarantee confidentiality, don't you?" he asked, his voice unusually low.

"Yes, of course," Hermaeus replied. This should be interesting.

Vorsic sat back and nodded. "Alright," he sighed, "so you know my mate, Nerroth?"

"Vorsic, if I didn't know who your mate was, I'd hardly be fit to run this business."

"Right. Well, recently I... misplaced something. One of her creations."

"And you need me to locate it," Hermaeus mused, trying his best not to smile. This idiot traded me a Water Tome just to find some missing piece of junk? If only all my customers were so daft!

"Can you do it or not?" Vorsic asked, sharp features creased in worry.

"Perhaps," Hermaeus replied with a shrug. "I'll have to consult my sources to be sure. If you'll excuse me..." He got up from the cushioned floor, tucked the tome under his arm, and slipped off towards the back room. Nettle trundled over and sat by the door like an oversized guard dog while his master went inside.

This was the room Hermaeus usually hid in while seeking answers. Its door was thick enough that the odds of being overheard were slim, and so few dragons had been inside that its true contents were a mystery. Most probably imagined a crystal ball or a scrying pool. In reality it was a simple storage closet, filled with cleaning supplies and a few spare books. Hermaeus wedged himself between a mop and a stack of encyclopedias and closed his eyes, dreading what would come next. It had been a while since he contacted Them, and They hated to be ignored.

"Hello?" he murmured, reaching deep into his subconscious. They left him in suspense for a while, let him wonder if perhaps They'd left, but eventually They couldn't resist. They could sense the tome's magic, and Their greed vastly outweighed Their sense of disdain.

It's been a while, They hissed. Their voices were raspy and low, like a thousand snakes trying to talk at once. It sounded like They were sitting in the room with him, but he knew that was an illusion; They were trapped in his mind, and They always would be. "No one's needed our services for a while," Hermaeus shrugged. "That's hardly my fault."

So you only speak to us when you want something. Good to know you value our company, the voices muttered.

Hermaeus was tempted to roll his eyes. "Don't even try acting like you get lonely. You have each other."

That doesn't count and you know it.

"Whatever. You know what the client wants, yes?"

Of course. We know everything, after all. Their voices oozed with smug pride. That poor fool has no idea what he's given us. And for such a trivial bit of information, too.

"Yes, yes, it was most short sighted of him. Can we get this over with already?" Hermaeus could already feel himself losing his nerve. Why couldn't They make this easier?

They let out a wheezing laugh. Temper, temper. Since you're so desperate, we'll cut to the chase. Nerroth's creation was destroyed.

That caught Hermaeus off guard. "Destroyed by who?"

Why, the very dragon who gave us this tome. It's the wreckage that he seeks.

Hermaeus' brow creased. Why would Vorsic bother searching for a broken item? "Explain yourselves," he demanded.

A short while later he almost regretted asking. "I see," he muttered. "That was... a bit darker than I expected."

You asked, They replied. He could practically hear them shrugging, completely unbothered by the secret They'd just spilled. Now, about that tome…

Hermaeus' shoulders sagged. "Must we do it this way? You can't just let me read it myself?"

You know that isn’t how it works.

The imperial sighed and opened his eyes, taking one last look around the storage closet. He wondered for a moment why he even bothered with this thankless, taxing job. Perhaps he should just give it up. Become a normal librarian. How much easier that would be... But then he set eyes on the Water Tome, resting next to him on the stack of encyclopedias. The power it radiated, the secrets it held, it was enough to make him giddy. "The goal. Remember the goal," he murmured. He took another moment to steel himself before closing his eyes again. "I'm ready."

The beginning was always the worst part. He could feel his body being wrenched away from him, leaving him stranded in nothingness like some long-forgotten thought. This was the prison They stayed in, the one he was forced into whenever They borrowed his body. Staying there too long could drive a dragon mad.

Even now Hermaeus could feel his sanity starting to fray. He wanted to run, or scream, or do anything at all to prove he was still there, but nothing could shatter the blinding darkness, the deafening silence. Then, after an eternity, something brushed against his mind.

You are so weak, They smirked, flowing back into Their prison. The librarian felt himself suddenly being pulled down, his senses returning in a rapid flood of light and sound. He gasped and opened his eyes. He was in the storage closet again, the only difference being the tome that now sat open in front of him. Its magical aura had all but disappeared; even the rune on its cover no longer glowed. Whatever enchantments it had held had been stripped away entirely, devoured by his tormentor.

Hermaeus set the book aside and, after taking a moment to compose himself, stepped out of the closet to give Vorsic the news. Though they were already fading away, he could still sense the voices at the edge of his mind, whispering secrets to each other. Secrets that could easily become his if only he would pay the price. It was the kind of power he'd dreamed of since he was a hatchling.

He hated it.

Familiar

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Art

Lmao keep dreaming

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Exalting Hermaeus to the service of the Windsinger will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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