Knowledge of the Past

"We used no such portal, as I am gifted with the power of teleportation," Shaeman said politely. "I was not aware that such portals existed."
Cika walked silently up to Shaeman, standing next to him, a thin book in simple Demonic held tightly to his chest.

A small flash of dissapointment passed across Diaes's face and he looked down, seemingly to hide it. His gaze turned up slightly then, and he looked rather pointedly at Cika. The look on his face became something between confusion and question, "A human child that reads the language of the underworld?" Looking up at Shaeman, his expression tilted, "The child isn't yours...yet it understands the language of your ancestry? You know of the library, and yet you have never entered it by the grace of a single one of teh doorways? You know of prophecy contained only in the ancient annals of a demonic scripture recorded here alone...Just what is it that brings you here?"

"The story is long. Cika is my son by adoption, bringing him into a family of part demons. It is only fair that he learns our language so that he may be able to understand us. My sister once came here with a member of the Senate of her dimension, which is how I came to know of it. As for the prophecy, it is not for me that I research it, it is for my sister, who is playing a role in a prophecy she has no wish to." Shaeman explained calmly.

"With your permission, may I see this prophecy of which you are a part?" Diaes sat gracefully at the table, "I claim not the power of either oracle or prophet, but many prophecies have I lived through and many more have I interpretted correctly. If you should wish them, I offer you these services." He waved his hand in an expansive manner over the table's top.

"I am afraid that we are all to certain of the outcome of this prophecy." Shaeman said quietly, keeping sadness and worry from his voice. "All we seek is a way to alliviate the suffering of our sister."

Diaes nodded. A look of empathy for their sorrow or perhaps his own saddness showed danced a durge across his face before he collected himself. "I understand. Please, if you have such grave business then let me detain you no longer. Only, if you will, I would beg of you some knowledge. I spoke of business earlier, that business is a person. The person to whom this diary belongs." The librarian held up the small book which he had been scribbling in earlier and placed it before himself on the table. "The person's name is Harper, or it used to be. From what I can tell he calls himself Vlaskie now. I seek to return to him his property if I can, but have been unable to locate him for some time. I ask only because he, like you, bears the mark of the underworld, and though you may be more solitary creatures you might, by chance, know of each other." Again he cocked his head in that so cat-like manner.

Shaeman thought for a moment, then glanced at his son, who shoo his head. Shaeman turned back to Diaes.
"I am afraid that neither name brings any certain person to our memories." Shaeman sighed, sounding slightly horseish. "I must return to my research, I apologise for my lack of proper social skills." With a short bow to Diaes, he sat down, head bent over the dusty old tome again.

Diaes once again nodded sadly and sighed as he raised himself up. The angelic person was still fiddling around with the book trying to find that page, so he thought he would engage himself in a more...worthwhile pass time as he waited. Standing he moved towards one of the shelves. Many of the manuscripts were as of yet unbound in book form, as Diaes was the only one for centuries to have access to them, barring of course random visitors and a few monks that he had dragged here and forced to do the binding several hundred years back. It was one of these scrolls that he removed and returned to the table with. Time was precious and Toryn would have to be found eventually, but a Nosferatu had eternity on his side and besides there was a child to entertain, perhaps. So the vampire spread out a scroll of old poetry written in an old but legible demonic script and began to recite in a low melodic voice some of the lines to himself, quietly so as not to disturb the researchers.

--Hehe, I'm using my grandfather's comp. Shhhh... <.<--

Vladimir opened up the tome to the indicated page. He pointed at the artefact he was previously looking at, then said, 'This was the thing I was looking at, it seems. I just woke up on this page, so I guess I was reading it somehow, but I can't remember a thing...'
Vladimir noticed the man was away, and Vladimir tried to get the man's attention, without seeming too loud, as they were in a library, 'Er, mister, are you listening to me?'

Diaes put down his poetry with a sigh and returned to his examination of the new book. "Most interesting..." he said as he leaned down over the page. His face could have been one of concentration or just a feral snarl. Raising himself back from where he bent over the dusty old book, the vampire narrowed his eyes at the man before him. "What do you know of angels?" the voice cold hardness of his voice was suddenly grated through his teeth in a rather violent manner.

'Angels?' Vladimir repeated, 'Well, to tell you the truth, I don't beleive in them, really. I beleive in spirits, like that one I met a pretty long time ago, but I was, eh, drunk, so I must've hallucinated.' Vladimir looked at the tome. Something was making his eyes strode amongst the numerous lines of text. Riddles and such were printed onto the old book, and Vladimir didn't know why it attracted him so much. 'But, if you want me to say from what I've heard of angels from legends,' Vladimir continued, 'I know that they are light beings. Opposite to demons, kinda. You become one if your heart isn't heavy at your death. Angels have eagle-like wings on their back, and they use them to fly around or rise up to Heaven. That's basically all I know.'

"Most interesting," Diaes's face was slightly skewed by a thoughtful sneer, "Ah yes, I suppose this is one of the common misconceptions. In this case the beings which you refer to as angels and demons are indeed what this book refers to. The page you are reading deals with a device created to restore the being from death...with their new abilities retained into life. The intention of the process is to...deify the being in question. The other page describes a function of the machine's counterpart to annihilate these beings, and finally this little excerpt here tells of a third artifact meant to return the angelic being to a human state." His finger descended to the page and alighted on a very specific line of text. "This is the location of all three artifacts. I know that they are still there because they were bound to the spot during the crusades and cannot be moved. This leads me to assume, since you cannot remember why you were looking upon these things, that you were trying to change yourself back, unless of course you just meant to commit suicide," Diaes walked over to the shelf, chuckling and shaking his head.

Shaeman was purpousfully ignoring the referances to demons as he scouered the tome before getting up again, checking something in another book before returning. He took out a pad of paper, an inkwell and a quill from under his cloak, beginning to take notes feverishly.

A heavily bound book met the table directly beside Shaeman's paper ever so gently, so as not to disturb either the writer or his tools. The claw-like fingers that clutched it slowly released themselves. "It has been many years since the monks of the Yeminein Monastery recorded the rantings of the possessed man known to them as Karthrex Von Eilheim, but it wasn't long enough for the book to be included in this library. This one is from my own personal library," Diaes's voice was an interesting mixture of flavors that generally settled towards cream, "The reference to which you might be enticed is one that speaks of a woman who would bare the name 'Mercy And'. The monks didn't quite understand it, but I believe you may find something...revealing within. If you wish I might interpret when you are finished, for I know the full meaning of this prophecy." The man vanished through a door for a few moments before returning and crossing to the table whence he had first come and busying himself with some certain items and a satchel of sorts.

'Trying to...' Vladimir repeated, 'Change myself back?'
That can't be possible. I'm not an angel.
Unless...
That's true!
Just after that white being entering my body, I had this weird leather glove that I can't take off, and ever since, I've been able to dodge bullets! Was that thing an angel? But that also means... That it can manifest itself, and control my body, as it did to lead me here.
Vladimir looked carefully at the relics. If this angel wanted to revive, it was looking for this artefact, the first one right there.
Vladimir pointed at the object. It looked like an experimental tube, except with a cross as a top, and it was artisanal. He looked at the location.
Jerusalem.
Vladimir stood up, and flipped the book until it was closed. He was going to go. He wanted to know what had happened, and see if this is all true.

"Don't forget to sign out when you leave," Diaes called indicating a large book on a pedestal by the main door with a long pale finger without turning. The hand dropped quickly back to work and very soon had finished packing his bag and whatever else had just gone on. If one had looked, they might have seen the "scholar" shoving a knife into his boot which he had just laced evidently as he had not been wearing it before. "It is nearing the twilight hour, gentleman," he spoke as he began to stride towards the door, "I'm sorry, Mercian, I would love to help, but I have someone to find...If you have any questions at all, just feel free to leave them on my desk along with the prophecy book. Should you be willing to wait, even with your most pressing circumstances, I shall return with the rise of the sun." With that Diaes strode to the door.

ooc// Val I seem to remember you offering to sprite Diaes for me. If the offer is still open, I would be more than a little honored should you give the project your time.

Vladimir looked at the big book Diaes pointed at. A big tome, dusted (not dusty) and probably sort of cracking, but it was beautiful. Vladimir took a pen posed next to the book, and opened it. Lots of names were written, some in other languages that he didn't know of. He began to write with the pen, which wouldn't work the first time. He then licked the bit of the pen, and scribbled at the end corner of the page. It worked now, and he wrote his name and the date he was here. He closed the book, a big thud echoing throughout the whole library. He turned to the library exit, then went away.
His footsteps rang no more through the library, but made cracking noises as his feet hit the rocky ground.

--Oops, sorry! I had begun, but I forgot about it for a while. But now that you make me remember, I should almost ahve the idle finished by now. Just wait until the end of Spring Break, because I won't eb able to work on it for 4 days (I'm going to my mountain house, with no internet D: ) but I'll be sure to finish it just at the beginning!--

ooc// Your time is precious and I thank you that you would even give this item your consideration. My patience is rather extensive, or I like to think it is anyway, and I shall await your timing.

Dang! I sound like a suck-up.

bic// Much, much later, Diaes came bustling back into the library, his clothing all asunder and covered in dust, mud, and only heaven knows what else. "Blast," he cursed a bit in some obscene language for a moment, "I had so expected to be back by sunrise. Do forgive me." The tangled hair fell around his face as looked up at the table where the Mercians still sat. "Here, I keep you waiting nearly a whole night. Most disgraceful of me, this conduct is not normal I assure you," there was a gleam in his eyes as he moved to his table once more, "Young Mercian, if you wouldn't mind assisting me for a moment?" Long, thin fingers quickly removed items from the bag, among these the small journal. With an incredibly expedient efficiency, the library's keeper placed each item in its place, but the journal remained in the center of the table.

ooc// You will note that I have edited this post due to a lack of forethought in its creation that would have led to problems in the future...

Shaeman barely looked up at the reappearence of the librarian, but Cika nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the book he was reading. The human child hurridly picked up the book, placing it carefully on the desk. He looked at Shaeman, who finally surfaced from his prophecy readings.
"Go speak with him," The half demon quietly engouraged his adoptive son. Cika nodded, looking at Diaes and bowing low, one hand fisted over his heart in the gesture of deep respect bewteen the half demons.

Diaes looked at him, the angular face's etched lines softened for a moment as he duplicated the demon gesture. Bending down on one knee, the librarians dark form leaned towards Cika. His hands rested on the knee that was still lifted like that of the knights of old who would take up such stances before their king. "Cika, know that the task with which I entrust you is gravely important," Diaes's voice was an earnest whisper and his face was worried, "I know that I can rely on your memory. You are here seeking to alleviate the severity of a prophecy and it will soon appear that you had no need to fear, but nonetheless the end shall be harsh. 'When the Shadow has fallen from your heart, watch for the sign of the Monkey. When it has been seen, make all haste to the Library.' Even if you don't understand, you must remember." One of the thin pale hands reached up and took a book off of the table, it's binding was a sickly color surrounding yellowed pages. Protruding from in between the middle pages of the book was a black ribbon. "When the time comes, you'll need this to get back," one long arm extended, offering the book to Cika, "All you will need to do is carry it with you. Of course, you don't have to accept the mission. If you just want to walk away, that would be yours to decide; just say no. If you desire this, though, you must not tell a single soul." Sincerity showed in the cold eyes. "And, Cika Mercian, if you should take up this burden or even if not, when you see the Monkey Manifest itself, run."

"But..." Cika said, completely confused. "I don't understand! I want to help you bit I don't understand how!" The human child gazed at Diaes, his eyes worried and afraid. "Pleae tell me what you mean..."

"I'm sorry," Diaes's voice was laden with concern of his own, "I don't mean to scare you, Young One. All you have to do is take this book and make sure to keep it always with you. When you see the sign of the Monkey and, trust me, when you see the sign coming you will understand very well, you must run. Ere you run, make sure the book is in your possession, you shall very soon see a large black door where it really shouldn't be, open it, and leave it open. Once inside you will be here, I will be waiting. After that, your part is over and perhaps I will be able to save the heart of a monkey..." It was not a frightening smile but one of kindness that took over the expression of the pale lips. He delicately laid the book on the edge of the table. "Trust me, if you do this thing now, you may very well change history, but more importantly, you will save the life of one you love," the Dark coat swished slightly as the pale man rose up to stand over the little boy, "Your life, Cika, may be in danger no matter what you do. I hate that, but it is the truth. No matter what, I shall try to protect you, but this way is the best way." One thin hand descended to the book's cover and patted it twice before the whole shadowy form drifted away to the shelf behind the table.

Cika nodded slowly, understanding a bit better. He looked at the book, but didn't open it. He turned back to sit next to Shaeman, who was still working on the prophecy, stowing the book under his cloak. He felt like the other demons shouldn't have other things to worry about.

A quick glance and Diaes smiled. The dark eyes flashed as they turned back towards the shelf. Finishing with his business, he turned back towards the table. That wretched little book still sat there. He picked it up, the claw-like fingertips grasping it harshly. Pure venom showed on his face as he nearly spat on the...thing. A journal indeed, only of pain, the librarian would make sure that the small tome would never be found again. The dark figure stalked down the hall to where it split off into a dark corridor and kept walking. turn after turn finally led him to a room constructed of black wood blocks with strange markings covering their surfaces. Diaes traced one of the markings with his hand and a secret chamber opened on the far wall. With the utmost delicacy did he place the small leather-bound volume in the niche. As he left the room, the hidden cache closed, its edges disappearing into the block around it. Before returning to the main room, Diaes made a detour or two to find the book he would need. Plans rapidly formed in his mind. For a moment he sank against the wall, his body shaking from the silent, tearless sobs, but then he gathered himself and kept on with his work. And there was much work yet to do...