The cold night had been chased away by the sun that unleashed its snug beams upon Solis Aevum the very next day.
After breakfast, Arabella had found refuge behind the armor guarded doors, where the magic lived.
Books continued to glide and woosh past her at will. Who's will? That, she had no way of telling. Although curious as to why they never remained on their shelves, Arabella prioritized her own research.
Indeed, seeing that Lady Persephone and the other vampires were pleased to hear one of the celebrated Magnus Remilis' poems, Arabella buried her head deep into one of the works dedicated to his many gems.
Quill in hand, she dipped it in ink every time something on those pages captivated her, noting it down as her eyes sailed along those erudite lines from top to bottom and from left to right.
Arabella had been so entranced by those refined pieces of art, in fact, that she paid no mind to her surroundings, utterly heedless to the second presence in the library aside from her own.
His diamond eyes went from her expressive face to the arm that moved to scribble something down at times then remained still at others, eyebrows knitting before rising to the top of her forehead the very next second as her eyes widened then squinted while she consumed the words on those pages.
Her natural heart rate was music to his ears. Absorbed by her work, there was no trace of fear or agitation in her. Silas merely watched for a good moment, debating whether to announce himself at the risk of disrupting her peace or let her be.
Arabella exuded such confidence and eagerness that even from the very little he'd seen of her, that one sure was a rare view.
Silas' gaze eventually traveled from her figure towards the pile of books stacked by her side on the table. From the titles inked upon their spines, all of them, with no exception, involved vampire literature.
And so, he concluded that the young woman was perusing for content to impress their… Future guests.
A small but electrifying shard traversed his entire body in that instant, the kind he was not accustomed to feeling, nor was he well acquainted with for that matter. Upon failing to comprehend it, his vocal cords escaped his control and took initiative, thus breaking the silence in the library.
The second he'd cleared his throat all hell seemed to break loose. Well, sort of, as Arabella leapt from her seat, striking the pile of books beside her which went crashing down, scattering all over the floor. The chair behind her would've been sent flying too if it hadn't been of the heavy kind, but its growl as it scraped the floor sure blared all across the space.
Luckily, her quill hadn't been inside the ink box when that happened otherwise, she'd have sprayed everything around herself, painting it black.
"I… I was not aware of your presence! Please forgive me, Master," hand on her chest, Arabella had completely forgotten that blinking was an option as she stared at him, waiting for his reaction.
There it was! That look of fear she always donned whenever he was around.
Silas remained quiet, his eyes drifting towards the floor where the dispersed books lay.
Arabella took that as a hint, rushing around the table and scrambling to clean up her mess.
For a while, Silas followed the dangling locket round her neck, swaying freely when she bent forward before landing on her chest upon standing straight. Since the books were on the heftier side, Arabella was forced to repeat the process a few times, picking one or two of them at a time.
Silas finally took his first steps in her direction, picking one of the books between his hands, "Might you be cultivating a new passion for vampire literature?"
"One can hardly resist it," eyes on the little notebook she'd been using, her lips squeezed a faint smile that still reached her eyes.
"What do you find especially hard to resist?" voice icy but smooth, he'd spoken just loud enough for her to hear.
Hesitant at first, Arabella struggled to utter the first part of her sentence. Although along the way her eyes meandered, harboring a distant glint that grew stronger the longer she went on, "I suppose it's something I'd never considered back in Lustris, but works of art that saw the light before the previous century are considered classics since…," she paused, grimacing at the thought, "Their creators are, well, no longer among the living and there lies the difference," Arabella had launched into an in depth explanation, seeming so enthralled by her own words that Silas dared not interrupt her flow, "Immortality has always been something I observed through my own window as a human, but… Magnus Remilis is a vampire and he brought it up many times throughout his works, I'd love to meet him at least once in my lifetime," she smiled.
"Magnus Remilis lost his life during the great war,"
Silas had thrown the information at her so tactlessly that the words hitched in her throat. The smile as well as the spark in her eyes both vanished instantly.
"Oh…,"
"Keep my mother's words in mind. Vampires are drawn to humans for a reason that has already been explained to you. I advise you to focus on works produced by humans as that is mostly likely to impress our guests more," glaring down at her, he waited for her to look him in the eyes, but of course, she never did and merely stared at her own fingers which twiddled while listening to him.
"The section dedicated to human literature lay closer to the back of the library on the left side. You won't miss it,"
With that, Silas turned around and walked away, allowing her no time to react. Not that she seemed particularly ready to.
He did however, and unbeknownst to her, keep on listening to her heart. Its rhythm wasn't tame by any means but not wild either and right as the door shut behind him, a soft yet clear "Thank you," reached his ears from beyond.
After a brief interval during which Arabella stood still, eyes on the floor, gently biting on her bottom lip, she turned the way Silas had directed her and hurried there.
She walked following the timber boards along the path that indicated the different sections of the library until her feet halted underneath the sign engraved with the words "Human literature"
Arabella marched along the shelves summoning any book that had caught her eye. She'd settle them upon the nearest table before moving on to the next one.
Among the lot, one stuck out more so than others as her own family name "Sterling" had been inscribed and ornate with golden foil across its spine.
Eyebrows furrowed, she extended her arms to call for it and without any further ado, sat down to read through its pages.
The very first page informed Arabella that the book had been published in the year 1650 or 29 years prior to their date.
That explained the absence of her name in the detailed family tree that began on the next page. The schema stopped at the union between her father Reubon Sterling and her mother Eleanor Burchard.
As she flipped the pages forward, the realization that it, indeed, contained the history of her bloodline did not surprise her in the slightest.
Dating back half a millennia prior, it told the tale of the Sterlings from its very start. Arabella smiled at certain segments recognizing parts she'd been taught in her childhood, but the majority of information transcribed within the work never appeared in the books that were used in her tutoring.
Perhaps lost to time or perhaps even omitted by the hand writing them for reasons Arabella would have never dared ask.
It appeared the one thing that was not cut out and was repeated ad nauseum by her father since to him it was the most glorious piece of history in their lineage, had been the fact that one of their ancestors, Abel Chester Sterling had made an immense contribution during the great war, allowing humans a chance to even the playing field against the creatures of the night.
He'd been the one to fashion the first weapons out of silver and Yuniper that wouldn't immediately shatter upon impact, strong enough to pierce the incredibly thick skin of a vampire.
Page 540 was the last page she'd turned. As though struck by lightning, the world around her went dark.
Muscles stiff and bones wedged at the joints, her eyes practically licked the page from top to bottom over and over again, hoping to read a different thing or for the words to magically shift every single time.
Tears welled up in her eyes as one of her hands finally moved, only to shakily rise and cover her open mouth.
Written in bold letters, the part that had rattled her to the core, read something along the lines of, "Abel Sterling and his entire unit had been captured after a deadly attack they'd launched against enemy troops. A strike that proved quite costly on the vampires' side as it counted the loss of one of their greatest generals, the Lord Emeric Eleazar"