Incunabula Doctrinae

     After minutes of pacing between Preston’s desk and the door, the novice cook thought she’d lose her mind. Sitting down in the chair next to the couch where the Messenger lay sprawled, the young woman took time to really observe her unconscious charge. The Messenger’s wavy blond hair covered half of her sickly face which currently matched her pale tunic and contrasted sharply with her partially unbuttoned black jerkin. On the ground next to the couch lay a dingy old knapsack, its seams stretched, a couple unraveled. What is in that thing? the girl wondered. She reached toward the bag, then stopped herself, you can’t. That’s the Messenger’s. Sitting back in the rickety chair, she could barely hear it creak with the noise from the kitchen. How can she sleep through all that? At that last thought the cook leaned over again, flipped up the top of the bag, and stared at the contents. Of course she has a shit ton of notebooks, the cook chuckled. First, she glanced from the door to the Messenger. Then, after holding her breath for a count of three, she repeated the action. When she couldn’t stand it any more, she knelt down before the bag and gave the middle notebook a solid tug which caused her to rock back. Inhaling, she pushed herself off the ground, weaved, and then eased into the chair. Flipping open to a random page, the nosy little cook read:

Momento Mori

      Her bewildered chuckle echoed in the dark. The brilliance of the bright green flash imprinted her vision with slowly fading hazel halos. Wherever she’d landed was chilly and dank like Mercury’s Cavern in the Iphigenia underground; she stood weaving in the pitch black. The absolute silence and lack of air movement unsettled her. Without moving her feet, she repeatedly clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she slowly moved her head from right to left. Putting her left hand out before taking a step forward, she quickly found the nearest wall. This would be so much easier, if I had some light, as the thought popped into her mind twin beams of red and green slowly grew from out of Mercury’s Bracelet. Refraining her giggles, she thought, if Ms. Darin had told me, I never would have believed. I love this stupid bracelet. She raised her left forearm and pointed the lights at the wall in front of her. Somehow she wasn’t surprised that it was just a wall. She swept the area with soft lights emanating off her bracelet. When her glowing wrist passed across the ground five feet to her right, she stopped and stared at the myriad red and green sparkles that illuminated the ground like rave glitter under a black light. What is that? she asked herself as she bent down to inspect the shimmering ground. “Glass?” the word escaped her mouth on the exhale. Once again standing, she returned her hand to the wall, but instantly removed it. Somehow, in the few feet she’d walked the wall had changed from cold and solid stone to cold and solid wood. A door, she hoped. Ignoring the glass covered ground, she used the lights to examine the wall. Though she couldn’t perceive the texture difference in the dual beams, she did see the very obvious division of wall, jamb, and door. She exhaled in relief when she found the doorknob. Where there’s a door and a wall, there should be…ah ha! clicking the light switch, she heard the low hum of an overhead light heating up.