Amborella

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As far back as she can remember, Amborella has been fascinated by books. Ink and wood pulp, or bark, or leather, carved tablets if stone, wood or wax—such simple things, yet they take the reader on such intricate journeys; impart amazing information. They can make you laugh, cry, love, hate and wonder over the little known intricacies of the universe. Symbols, arranged in specific orders so as to have meaning, placed by one who cared enough to impart these marvels. As gorgeous as any other work of art and perhaps even more compelling.
---Her big brother Ebony taught her to read, almost further back than she can recall. The most treasured present she has ever been given—the ability to read.
---Once she was able to leave the nest, she immediately turned to joining her brother in the library. It always struck her with wonder, how a mere year and a half ago, it had been a building that was more rubble than sound structure, with loose scrolls, faded by water, torn by wind and a scant number of cracked tablets, forgotten among the debris.
---According to Snay and her mate, as well as some of the older members of the clan, this place had once been inhabited before them. Around the clearing, remnants of bricks, and even the occasional piece of stained glass can be found. The caves show decomposed remnants of apparel, and bones gnawn on long ago by dragons. Snay commented once that where they now grow food, you could once see the overgrown remnants of garden beds.
---Strangely enough, the library, the epicentre of knowledge, was the last place to be restored, by her big brother. A weighty endeavour started by him, garnering gold from the grown ups, and helping claws from younger dragons like himself.
---The library now stands proud, a pretty, two-story building of erratic stonework and nigh on undecipherable stained glass windows. The floor inside is polished wood, laid with soft carpets to muffle the click of a talon, lest the readers be disturbed.
---She remembers her first day helping her brother in the library. She'd already been a regular visitor of the library for long enough to know what to do, but there was something glorious about listening to Ebony go over it all again. The scrolls and tablets felt more precious than ever. No longer was she a mere reader; she was now personally responsible for the safekeeping of every tablet, scroll, and book. While she returned the volumes to their places on the shelves, her brother worked on making copies of older, fragile scrolls and rarer works. Other dragons helped out here and there, but none of them possessed the same dedication. Ordinarily, Ultimatum would have been present as well, but he was on a diplomatic trip for the clan.
---Amborella found hatchlings, even those older than her supremely annoying and lacking act respect for any written works. Even some of the adults were completely atrocious! Sea Serpent didn't give a damn, not even for his autobiography. Nyx was one of her favourite clan members. While she could sometimes give off a cool and distant air, she treated the scrolls with respect, and could even be trusted to reshelve them in the right place. A short series of works by her on the Infection had been donated to the library. They detailed her experience with the disease, and the treatments used. She had several speculations on its nature and origins. Amborella found her theories fascinating, although, like all others, were inconclusive. All they knew for sure was that Scáth had spread—and still could if not regularly given herbs to suppress it—the disease, but there was no telling how he contacted it in the first place. He was a hotbed of Infection cells, yet they had no apparent ill effects on him.
---Her favourite time was the day after the Moontide Market. Ever since her brother had started the restoration of the library over two years ago, it had become a clan-wide habit of collecting new works at the Moontide Market to add to the clan's steadily growing collection of knowledge. Her first time at the market had been overwhelming—the sights, sounds and smells were strong and vibrant, the crowd pressing close. It had been worth it though. From a travelling merchant, well acquainted with her brother, they had bought scrolls on herblore, a thick, leather-bound cookbook with an appetising stack of honey-drizzled pancakes, scattered with berries burnt into the cover, and a traveller's story of their journey through the Shifting Expanse. A bookseller had offered up a treasure trove of new novels, biographies and works of pure fiction that delighted the mind. From a guardian passing through, they made a lucky find—a copy of an old and rare scroll on medicines that were all but long forgotten. It had cost quite the pretty penny, but it would be worth it. Nyx and Hellebore would surely be delighted.
---One event sticks out very clearly in her memories, although it was seemingly insignificant at the time.
---She was placing scrolls back on their racks in the peaceful quiet of the library. It was a warm day, and the library was a cool refuge from the scorching sun. Besides herself, the library was empty, however. Ultimatum had just returned from a negotiation turned violent dispute, and her brother was visiting him on the healers' cave. Everyone else was doing their own thing and attempting to pry information of the failed negotiation from Alqamar. Amborella, while curious, did not wish to push her way through her clan members crowding around the scarred, somewhat intimidating dragon. She would get the information later from her brother and his mate, in the calm and quiet of the library, or perhaps their den.
--- The methodical arranging of the scrolls had lulled her so that she almost missed when Topaz made her way into the library.
---The young obelisk was laden with several tapestries, the rings from which they would hang clattering briefly over the wooden floor before they reached the carpet. A little startled, Amborella looked over to the colourful mess that was Topaz and her tapestries.
---"Hi!" Topaz exclaimed, voice jarringly loud, as she struggled to wrangle the trailing tapestries into some semblance of organisation.
---"What... Are those?" Amborella asked slowly, scrolls stacked in her talons, as she took in the scene before her.
---"Oh," Topaz's voice pitched a little higher. "Well, um, these are some tapestries I made. And... I thought it might be nice to hang them here. In the library."
---Amborella blinked. "Oh. I see." She hesitated. "I'm not sure that we have anywhere to hang them."
---"Oh. Oh. I was just thinking that there's all this space on the walls and it would add to the atmosphere and um, I think they're supposed to help muffle noises... But if you don't want me to-"
---Belatedly, Amborella realised her words had come off as offensive. Curses upon social intricacies. "No—I meant that I don't think there's anything for them to hook onto. There's no nails in the walls or anything."
---"Ohhh..." She can almost feel the waves of embarrassment coming off Topaz. "Oh, sorry, that was really silly of me. There's bound to be some nails in Keisaiss's workshop, right?"
---"I... Suppose." Amborella has a hard enough time communicating with the dragons who wear their hearts on their cuffs, let alone those who seem to keep their emotions close to their chests, like Keisaiss (and herself).
---Topaz seems to perk up. "I'll be back in just a minute!" She places the tapestries gently on a rug, and dashes out of the library, her firefly markings glowing and flickering excitedly.
---Amborella stares after her for a second. Shaking her head, she glances curiously at the tapestries. They're of places around the clan's territory, depicting daily life. Dragons, snuggled around a campfire, their familiars and hatchlings capering about. Scáth, looking flustered and uncertain, weaving a fishing net, while Rin looks at him with just perceptible pride. Nyx, in the healers' den, looking exasperated, with a touch of amusement, as Kaeleth eagerly talks to Bird about something. Next to him, Lys looks mildly alarmed, and in the background, crushing herbs, Hellebore has her head tipped back as she laughed.
---Another tapestry is of sunset over the water, framed by chalcedony and birch trees. Of the forest in spring, budding, new leaves dotting the branches in a delicate green. Three deer hide in the shadows, birds are darting about. And a view, looking down on the clan's encampment, shadows long as the evening makes way for the night.
---They're all made with breathtaking craftsmanship, the threads vibrant, details woven in so finely you'd think they'd been made by the nimble talons of a fae.
---Amborella's jewels are thick tomes and old scrolls, but the tapestries are awe-inspiring. She recognises fine art when she sees it. Time and dedication have gone into these tapestries. They would be better served in an art gallery than the musty old library.
---Amborella is startled to find herself thinking of the library as musty, and old. Still, even its majesty cannot do the tapestries justice.
---She jumped back a moment later as Topaz comes bounding in, with a hammer and a pouch of nails.
---"What do you think of them?" Topaz asked, noticing that Amborella had been admiring them. She was certain that she imagined the anxiety in her tone.
---"Oh, erm." Amborella felt strangely guilty. "They're—amazing. They should be in a gallery," she answered honestly, feeling weirdly nervous.
---Topaz's eyes seemed to double in size. "You really think so‽" She exclaimed, capering around the skydancer. "I don't think they're professional enough for that, but I'm glad you do!"
---Amborella ducked her head. "They capture the atmosphere wonderfully," she said softly.
---Topaz practically glowed with happiness. "I'm glad! The atmosphere and mood of things can be so hard to put into art. But words are harder. I used to write, but I could never get the words to say what I wanted. With art though... There are no words."
---"For me it's the opposite. It's been a while, but I could draw what I saw alright. But I could never capture the essence of what I was drawing, give it emotion. With words, it's just so easy. You can arrange them how you like, and convey to the reader depth and passion."
---Topaz tilted her head curiously. "It's interesting how some can tell a tale with a few brush strokes, whether it be written words, or a drawing. I feel like one advantage art has over written works is, even if someone doesn't fully understand it, they can still admire it. But with a book or a scroll, you have to be able to read the individual words and string them together to get anything out of it."
---"I suppose so. There are still many who would look at a fine painting and not even see it at all, though."
---"Everyone has different tastes and attention spans, I suppose," Topaz commented, absently gathering up the tapestries. "In the end though, a work of art is still a work of art." She turned away. "Ugh, that's my inability to convey what I mean through words for you."
---"No, I see what you mean," Amborella replied quietly, and the conversation came gently to an end.
---Topaz glanced back at her, expression warm. Amborella felt strangely flustered all of a sudden, now that they weren't talking. "Erm—I'd better go get these scrolls sorted," she muttered, going back to the shelves.
---"Oh—yes. I'd better put the tapestries up too, and get out of your hair. Where should they go?" Topaz scrabbled for the last tapestry.
---"Wherever you think is good," Amborella told her, looking intently at the scroll racks in front of her. "I trust your intuition."
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(TBC)
Books by dreamingcity