The Rubbish Realm

Chapter 12

Lysander picked up the book, tracing his finger along the binding. "Beresford's Bibliography," he read from the spine, admiring the gilded lettering. "At last."
Clyde smirked. "I don't know if I've seen you so quiet yet." He was still lying on the floor, flooded in the piles of books that had come out of Lysander's closet. So far, magic wasn't exactly like he'd envisioned it... mind-reading by accident, closets with a portal dimension filled with books...
Lysander turned to the last page. "No index." He flipped through the pages to the front. "And it's not in the front. I'll have to read the whole way through."
"Slick." All the leather binding was surprisingly comfortable, and he felt as though he could fall asleep right then and there.
"Slick?" Lysander asked, then apparently read Clyde's mind for the answer. "Oh, I guess that makes sense." He turned back to the book, mumbling the entries to himself.
Clyde sighed. "Of course."
Lysander didn't reply, and Clyde, dead tired, fell asleep under the sound of the rustling pages.
"Page 103... 104... nope... 105... 106... oh? no... 107... 109... are these pages in the right order?" Lysander talked to himself. Come to think of it, he did that pretty often. Must be because I don't have any friends...
He shook that thought off, turning back to the book. "110... no, I don't want a fire spell... 111... 112... it's got to be in here somewhere, right? 113... aha!"
The work was entitled "Beresford's Bane". He read it aloud to himself. "Beresford's Bane - made from fire, made from all, catalyst that stops the fall, young Earth's spire, young men call, with whose powers one apalls, stuck in mire, found in fall, curses rained on it from all, wielder tire, makes his small, its destruction shall not stall."
"Nothing useful in there..." He read it a second time. "Young Earth? The land above? But nobody's been there in-" Coming to a sudden realization, he turned towards Clyde. If he could, another could, especially one with such a powerful artifact, if they did have it. "But wasn't it... destroyed?" Etherealorister and Alexistor had been collided after the defeat of the old Emperor, right? That's what everybody had been told, if they'd really existed in the first place. Had another been made? A scribble in the margin caught his eye, forming as he viewed it.
"Check page 167."
Invisible ink? He flipped to the page indicated. Though the page started blank, now that it had been given space, the writing started scribbling neater and larger.
"I am Allistaire, he whose last name is unknown. You are Theodosius, wielder of the other pen?"
Theodosius? Theo? Dad? Lysander fell backwards in shock. "Dad!" he screamed.
Steps resounded on the stairs, too heavy, it seemed, to be his dad. Lysander backed up into the closet, shutting it behind him. Clyde woke up.
"Who..." The voice resounded poorly through the closet. Lysander opened the peephole, seeing the scene inside slightly. Clyde's back was most of the visible scene, but now Lysander could read their minds.
Theodosius, eh? Nice to meet you... he's awfully jumpy, did he know I was here?
People! Eek!
Lysander had heard enough. Nobody was quite as socially awkward named Theo as his dad. "Somebody's writing to you, dad. They say they're named Allistaire and wonder if you have the other pen." He tentatively picked up the book, as if it were scalding, tossing it to his dad.
"Allistaire?" Theodosius stumbled backwards, falling down the steps. "The closet?" he asked, as his foot simply met air.
Clyde jumped towards him, tripping on a book and accidentally sending it down the steps... right under Theodosius' head, breaking his fall before a concussion. Stunned, he sat up. "Was that...?"
"He survived falling from the sky. Nobody else did. You can tell he's a luck affinity." Lysander gestured to Clyde's painfully bright yellow eyes.
"That strong?" Theodosius pulled the book out from under his head, then shook his head in disbelief. "The right book too." He pulled out a single plumed pen from the binding, then pulled himself to his feet.
Clyde stared, not moving. Lysander simply grinned. Theodosius climbed the steps, wincing slightly.
Clyde shook himself. "You're that Theodosius?"
"It's Theo," Lysander interrupted. "And yes."
Theo smiled tiredly, picking up the book. "Allistaire..." His voice trailed off in wonder, and he ran downstairs, followed closely by Lysander and then Clyde.