DeRuiz - Rondón Territory

    A new world.

    This was to be Sam's new home. Another kingdom. Another collection of kingdoms. Another set of loyalties, and another set of rivalries. No doubt Sam was going to get entangled in some sort of conflict between powerful people. It happened every time he came to a new world.

    The puppet masters sent him to these new worlds. Sam knew not why. Sam questioned whether or not "Why?" was even the right question to have in mind. Nevertheless, he hobbled slowly along this wide, mostly empty road. To each of his sides were hills of grapes growing on little sticks; the sun glazed him just as much as it did these grapes. With each step he took he felt a peering presence staring him down. It was probably the sun.

    Sam always felt uncomfortable under its heavy, humid oppression.

    Along the road, there were little stones that had loosened themselves from the cobble. They were free from their purpose, and as such free to the kicked away in playful boredom as Sam stopped to gaze from under his cloak at the beauty that is civilization just ahead on the near horizon. Situated atop a hill, a town that he had no name for as of yet sat, with a rather pretty body of water just down the landscape following his left.

    He wondered, if he cleared his mind, would he hear the name of this place? An answer from beyond?

    Dare not, he told himself. It was silly to think that for such easily learned answer. Without worry, Sam knew that he would eventually hear its name once he entered. For now, he continued his hunched limp onward, following this winding road to its end.

    DeRuiz, he overheard, as he entered its streets. Sam wasn't quite sure as to who said it, as there were no obvious conversations occurring, as for this instance, DeRuiz was quiet and calm, with nobody in sight. Something prodded him to close his eyes and listen.

    Using his walking stick to balance, he breathed slowly, standing in the middle of DeRuiz's empty street. A brown-striped cat meandered around him, giving him a few inquisitory sniffs, but then it hurried off into an alley close-by. After an absurd amount of introspection, Sam heard a voice within his mind. It spoke to him. It ordered him, but not in the traditional sense. It merely told him that there was a library nearby, and that one could learn everything one could need to know about this world to live within it.

    Comically, the voice gave Sam directions. Right, right, straight, left, straight, left, left, straight, right. He obeyed, and carried his frail body along these shaded paths, all the way until he came to a wooden door.

    "Open it."

    And he did, pushing the door inwards at an ever questioning creak, as to see if he was even welcome, and if this was, in fact, a library. Sam quietly shuffled into this building, pulling the hood that rested over his face away, and off of his head.

    He cleared his throat and looked around.

    It was a towering room of ascribed words on old parchment, forgotten to most to the dust of age. The master spoke of it as if it were just a mere library, but this was something different, something more than just that; Sam thought it was a testament to all things called libraries, a groundbreaking home to books.

    Noticing its large ceilings, he carried himself through the door once more, to check the height from the outside; as he craned his neck to look above, what he saw was truly misleading. It was... Bigger on the inside. It looked like a humble house, probably owned by some old man who'd collected a lot of books. On the inside, it looked like a center of the country's knowledge.

    "Huh," his young but shredded vocal chords hummed as he huddled back inside. Air and dust made way as Sam took a large breath. He looked down at the cat from the entrance and slowly shambled over to him. Sam's droopy, unassuming eyes met with the cat, and then meandered to the books, and to the chandeliers, and to the statues, and finally back to him. "Hello, kit-ty," Sam said, cheerfully, "This all yours, or is there someone like me, a shambling old man with a long beard perhaps, that I should talk to?"

"Well, that would depend, wouldn't it," said the Cat in a smooth baritone, proclaiming it's gender male. It licked it's paw and bat an ear before further speaking. "Are you looking for an old man with a beard?" The Cat asked the young man.

The he stopped, his ears twitching, and trotted toward the window, his silly body coiling and leaping to look out the window and watch as a carriage rumbled closer and closer.

The feline turned to regard the young, shabby looking man in the quiet yet mysteriously large book store. "Would an old woman do? Without the beard, of course," The Cat asked.

Meanwhile, the Rondi guide dismounted from his horse and loped the reins through a ring on one of the warm baked bricked walls of a nearby building. The air was sweeter in DeRuiz than it was in Rondon, the feeling in the air more peaceful and Arcadian.

"Si, Abuela," the Rondi guide said after he opened the door and held out a hand to help the woman descend from the carriage. "Senor Calderon has been informed.

“He’s already been informed? Excellent to hear. You must be exhausted from the journey here and I’m sure you are getting hungry by now, I know my two drivers are.”

Reaching into her pocket, Grandma pulled out a few coins, enough to pay for a good meal and a drink.

“It’s not much, but please accept this as my thanks and go refresh yourself.”

Her business with the guide finished for the present, Grandma entered the library, her cane clicking on the wooden floor as she walked several feet into the building. The first thing that struck her about the place was the ceilings inside were significantly taller than the outside of the building would signify. The second thing that garnered her attention was the man and cat inside. The cat, she wasn’t surprised it was in the library, they were good for keeping away pest after all. The man, however, certainly didn’t look like the type she typically imagined to be browsing libraries.

“Excuse me, but might you know if the Bookmaster is around?”

Her tone was friendly and she wore a slight smile, her gaze directed at the young man.

The Cat looked out the window as the carriage Drew to a stop, and seeing all he wanted to see, turned away. His haunches Rose and his tail flicked as he regarded the smiling waif in front of him.

With the nimble grace of his species, he leaped across the distance to a stack of books, which promptly tipped to the side as he smoothly stepped onto a pedestal holding the bust of an ancient scholar.

And just like his species, he seemed completely unconcerned with the mess of material knowledge he laid out on the floor.

The Cat did not answer the Boy right away, the door opened and the clack of a cane announced the Grandmother. The Cat licked his paw while the humans spoke between each other, but when the Boy gestured to the Cat, the Cat...

... Did not speak. Indeed, the cat looked just like a cat grooming itself, and the Boy look a tad touched for trying to indicate the Cat might possible be the Bookmaker.

"This cat here is the Bookmaster?"

An old woman would presume a cat to be of status; smelling the air and twiddling on the thought of this library and its grandeur, the lady boasted her travels to better yet lesser libraries.

The smell wasn't that great. Not for Sam anyways. No doubt he had no sense of smell, or at least a horribly stricken one; between his young yet old eyes, the plates of his sinuses looked strained and worn. His skin only followed the bone and as such, one's nasal curve from eye to bridge simply did not exist; unsettling as it was, his cheeks rose into a friendly smile. He had no intention on answering her pseudo-question, though.

An old woman could find her answers on her own.

This was known.

"Where did you come from then?" Sam inquired in the manner of small talk.

Grandma glanced over at Sam as he inquired where she had come from, letting out a slight yawn before responding.

“I came here from Rondon. I was conducting some trade there when I heard about this library. It sounded like just my kind of place, so I came out here to have a look.”

Maybe, uninterrupted, Grandma would have continued the small talk with Sam. But the arrival of the Bookmaster caused her attention to be turned away from the sickly looking youth.

“Ah, you must be the Bookmaster I’ve heard about. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I’m not normally one for cigars, but I suppose one can’t cause me too much harm.”

Walking over to one of the chairs, Grandma gently lowered herself down into it, leaning her cane so it rested at an angle on the chair’s arm.

So it seemed this man was not the Bookmaster but simply an apprentice. From what he said of the man and the nature of the job he had, Grandma supposed it did make sense that the Bookmaster was perhaps more than just a little reclusive. Not wanting to meet strangers and travelers but instead focus on his work. If that is what he did, Grandma couldn’t fault him for it.

“My apologies for mistaking you for the Bookmaster. Regardless, it is still a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cristobal DeMuerto. I suppose then you will be showing me this lovely collection instead of the Bookmaster?”

Raising the cigar to her lips, Grandma took a small puff, the end of the cigar having been lit in a similar manner to DeMuerto’s as she lifted it. She had never really understood the fascination with smoking things that some people across the Overworld had. Still, following the lead of her host might help put them at ease.

“I’m curious, what exactly does being the ‘apprentice’ to the Bookmaster here entail?”