Real Life (Jericho)

[>Flighty<]

Pale lavender eyes poured over the written words hungrily; devouring each sentence with delight and anticipation. Her soft blonde ringlets fell around her face as she leaned over the book. There were books piled all around her; practically concealing her from view until someone was right on top of her. The small child gasped suddenly as she continued to read as if her life depended upon finishing the book. She flipped to the last page and read the final words of the story and a smile spread across her cherubic features. She had never before experienced such joy as she had in the last few days here in this room.

The stone walls of the massive room held a vast array of nooks and shelves upon which a stunning collection of books of all kinds were scattered. At first she had thought there was no rhyme or reason to the organization. It had not made sense. She did not recognize any of the titles or authors. They were not arranged by author, nor title, nor year they were published, nor by the realm in which they were published. She had been unable to figure it out. She could not understand how there could be such a collection of written word that she had no knowledge of. She had been far too excited to realize why.

When Damask had told her that the books were categorized based upon what species had written them, the Archive’s excitement had nearly made her faint. She had never seen a collection of books not written by humans. She had of course known that other creatures would have books of their own, but she had never hoped to see such a thing herself.

This library was Damask’s and she had brought the Archive here a few days after she had first met the Darklings. Since then, Archive had fallen asleep with the books on several nights. Damask always made sure that she woke up in her own bed though. She liked Damask, liked all of the Darklings really. They were complex creatures; dangerous, even vicious, but also passionate and loyal. The Archive had no doubt that Damask would protect her from any threat and that Ash and Jericho would destroy any thing that dared to harm her. She understood that Ash hungered for her soul; they all did, but Damask’s maternal affection was powerful enough to keep them all in check. She was not afraid of them in the least. She was instead fascinated with the chance to lead a kind of life that the Archive had never before known in all of its existence.

The library was one of her favorite parts though. Damask seemed particularly enamored with that fact. Only today had she realized why; Damask was one of the authors whose work lived in this library. The Archive and Damask shared a passion for books. The Archive was only just discovering her passion. She had never before found much interest in reading since every books she had ever before come across was written by a human and thus already etched into her mind. This library; with it’s vampire, elvish and darkling authors had opened her mind to the excitement of reading.

The Archive’s smile remained in place since she’d closed the book and she looked down at the cover; her lavender eyes still sparkling. Her finger traced the golden lettering of Damask’s name on the cover and her smile grew brighter.

[C]ontortionist

[[C]ontortionist]

JERICHO

---

The Archive. Her existence was a marvel to the cannibal darkling, the multitudes of rich history left an everlasting taste on his palate, but her expression of fear was burned in his memory, easily helping him curb the hunger that was always perched at the back of his throat. Child’s eyes, completely innocent despite her grand knowledge. In truth, he was a little ashamed of himself, which was a rarity. He harboured a soft spot for young ones, and the lack of control he displayed whenever they all happened upon her during their hunt had jarred him slightly. He spent the week far away from her, exercising and pushing his physicality to its limits, embracing any pain as repentance for his stupidity. But as time went on that shame turned to curiosity. Besides, there was no world in which he would ever cross Damask, her heartache would be his own, and so he was quite certain there would be no loss of control like before.
Cathal, their silent watcher of the house, was standing guard outside the door, on Damask’s request likely. Not because she didn’t trust Ash or himself, but just to have extra eyes on her, as the house was rather large, and they didn’t want her wandering off and hurting herself. Like a statue, he didn’t move even as Jericho approached, his expression blank and eyes staring off into the distance. The darkling didn’t bother with him, but instead focused his attention on the small child buried in books. It brought a soft smile to his face as he slowly walked in, his arms held gingerly behind his back as he paused a few feet away from her and pretended to be looking for a particular book.

”Damask has quite the collection.” Usually rumbled tones were soft, his light eyes remaining on the shelf before him. ”I think you’ve gotten through even more than I have.” It was true, her collection was a large part of his knowledge about the worlds around him. Having been locked away for so long, he had been thirsty for knowledge, and she did not disappoint. ”Do you have a favorite so far?” His eyes finally moved from his faux search and rested on her’s, a smile forming as he did so.

[>Flighty<]

The smile didn’t falter when Jericho entered the library. She simply watched him from her nook of books; her eyes peaking over the edge of the shortest stack so she could see him. Her smile broadened and she fidgeted slightly. She hadn’t had more than glimpses of him since her arrival here. She understood why, instinctually, despite her youth. It was the same reason that she had awoken in her first night here to find Ash; silently crying on the floor beside her bed.

She completely understood that they had both meant to devour her in their first meeting. But she was not upset by that, in part because they had both fought a battle inside themselves to protect her from themselves. She understood that they were ashamed, but she knew it was unnecessary. Predators were meant to hunt and that was all they had been doing. Good and evil were blurry notions at best, and certainly did not apply to this situation. She didn’t fear the predatory nature of them at all either, because she was one of them now.

This powerful, scary monster who strolled into the library was her family; her protector and she was eager to know him. She smiled brighter at his words and knew just by the tone that this monster was forever hers, just as Damask and Ash were. Her lavender eyes danced with life as her gaze shifted over the library and then back to Jericho. “I love them each in their owner way.” she said as she looked down at the book in her lap. Her fingers traced the silvery letters inlayed in the cover for a moment. “This one, though; Shadows Burn.” she said softly. “Damask wrote it about you, before you ever met her. She added the last chapter just recently.” she said in her tiny voice and then smiled back up at Jericho.

She set the book down gently on one of the stacks and stood up, moving toward Jericho slowly. She was not at all afraid of him and reached her hand for his; her pale white dress swishing around her legs as she moved. “Can we go outside?” she asked him. She usually went out in the afternoons with Damask, but she wanted to stay with Jericho now that he was finally talking to her.