The Fountain Pen

I knew coming into today that I would not get much time to write. What I did not know was that I would not get any rest the entire day. I’ve been up for 16 hours and I’ve yet to relax. I’m beat and exhausted, so my almost 1,200 words seems like an accomplishment. I’m still ahead, but not as far ahead as I was yesterday. I’m only a couple hundred words shy of 20,000 which I’ll easily do tomorrow.

Here is today’s slim pickings:

Joe silently cursed himself as he stepped through the door, unprepared, and discovered this one lead to a vast cavernous room the ends of which he could not discern. Just to the right of the door was a small writing table, empty apart from a cheap ballpoint pen sitting atop a single sheet of yellowed paper. The rest of the space, as far as Joe could see, was consumed with cyclopean shelves the tops of which loomed high enough above him that anything housed up there was as good as lost to Joe. There were ladders here and there available for ascending the mountainous heights, and Joe sincerely hopped what they were looking for was closer to ground level.

“It’s a bit dominating at first,” Katarina said reassuringly. “Giants originally constructed it — the sweet dears — but their lack of perspective for us average height folks left us with this,” she pointed upwards. “Not to worry though. Most of the materials kept up there are only of interest to giants. What we are looking for will be far more accessible.” She began walking down the aisle then looked to her left. “I believe we go this way,” she checked to her right. “Yes. Definitely this way.”

“You are sure you know where we are going? I’d rather not get lost you know. I have a feeling it would take a search and rescue team to find us.”

“I’m sure,” Katarina called out, in her best reassuring voice. “It has been some years since I’ve been here. I only needed to jog my memory as they say. As to getting lost, well, the Keeper knows where all things are at all times, as long as they are in The Archives. That includes people.”

“He knows where we are right now?”

“Yes. So even if you don’t know where you are, he will always know exactly where to find you.”

“Sounds like the ultimate surveillance system.”

Katarina nodded. “This is his domain. Here he is master of all, and as such he knows all that goes on inside his domain. Don’t let his kind exterior fool you. If you so much as dog-ear a page in any one of these books he’d flay you alive.”

Joe sighed and rubbed his temples. “You know, it’s a bad sign when I take a statement like that literally instead of metaphorically.”

“Literal or metaphorical one should not want to face any negative consequence.”

They walked on in silence for a time. As they walked Joe studied the shelves, not just for their contents, which were an amazing array of scrolls, folios, leather bound books, wood bound books, notebooks, and all manner of carved, chiseled, and shaped materials, but for their impressive similarity from one shelf to the next. Each one was made from exquisitely fine grained wood, as thick as Joe’s hand. The joinery employed was so precise that were it not for the change in the direction of the grain he would have figured it was carved out of a solid piece of wood. Joe was subtly alarmed when there was an abrupt change in the shelves.

“Hello!” he called out.

Katarina turned around addressing Joe, “Pardon?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just, since we got here all the shelves were made of this impressive wood, and now they appear to be made from stone, cased in wood. It caught my attention, that’s all.”

“That would be because we crossed over from the first to the second quadrant. You’ll notice the flooring has changed as well.”

Joe looked down at his feet and saw he was now standing on broad paving stones. Looking back the way they had come he realized they had been walking on a hardwood floor bearing the most interesting pattern he had ever seen.

“Each quadrant has a distinct look to it. Since the quadrants are quite large it was deemed helpful to alter the materials used, and even the style, to help folks know where they are in relation to the rest of The Archives.”

“What are the other two quadrants made out of?”

“Quadrant three is crystal and glass motif, which you will see, and quadrant four is marble and granite.”

“Crystal and glass shelves? That doesn’t seem like a sound idea.”

“It’s sturdy enough for what is housed there, and no one would dare act carelessly in The Archives anyway.”

“Right. Otherwise the flaying.”

“Quite,” Katarina said with a smile.

They walked for some distance when a box on a shelf caught Joe’s eye. “What in the …” he began, wandering down the stack to investigate the box. Inlaid in the box was a curious sigil bearing a striking resemblance to Joe’s company logo. “Hey Katarina,” Joe called out. “What’s in this box?”

Katarina casually walked back to where Joe was standing peering at the box. “I don’t quite know, though I’m sure I’ve seen that sigil before.”

“Of course you have, it’s a rendition of my company logo.”

Katarina looked at Joe then at the box with surprise. “I think you’ll find that this sigil predates your logo by a good many decades, maybe even centuries.”

“Impossible. I came up with this design on my own. I didn’t use any reference material and I certainly didn’t copy it off of anything.”

“This merits further investigation,” Katarina said, pulling the oversized box off the shelf. “It’s a might heavy. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to carry it?”

Joe hesitated. “I’m rather fond of not being flayed, dead or alive.”

Katarina scowled at him. “And you think I enjoy it? This is well within proper use, just help me before I drop it, then what do you think will happen to you?” she threatened.

Joe hurriedly took the relieved Katarina of the box, “Where am I taking this?”

“There is a reading room of sorts setup back at the entrance. We’ll take it there.”

Joe’s expression soured when he realized how far they’d just walked. “I don’t suppose there are any carts or anything to assist are there?”

Katarina leaned in a placed a hand on his arm. “Oh,” she purred. “I don’t think you’ll need one.” She turned around and swayed out of the shelves. “Coming?” she called.

Joe sighed, knowing full well she was manipulating him, frustrated that it worked. After that display he had to carry it or else he’d be insulting his own masculinity. “Well played,” he mumbled as he awkwardly carried the box out of the aisle and back the way they came.

When they arrived at the entrance The Keeper was sitting at the little desk, pen in hand, poised over the paper. “I see you found something unexpected,” he said.

“What can you tell me about this sigil?” Katarina asked.

“That is the mark of Helmut Krummhorn.”

Katarina was caught off-guard. “I thought I recognized it. With your permission we would like to remove this to the Reading Room for further study.”

The Keeper scribbled something on the paper that to Joe’s eye was anything but a language. “Granted,” was all he said as he continued to fill the page with odd characters and designs.