there’s a knock at your door. you aren’t expecting visitors, but if it’s [[who you think it is->ezra]], you won’t be very surprised regardless. you stand, brush aside [[some papers]], and [[open the door.]]ezra mourner rarely knocks, but the occasions on which sie shows up uninvited are numerous enough. nobody else ever wastes their time coming down to your office when they can force you out of it or call ahead.
you would wonder why, but you’ve been alive long enough to know your own reputation well. //the world’s bitchiest librarian,// ezra called you once, not quite to your face. it’s true enough that you never bothered to bring it up. [[maybe you should, if it does turn out sie’s the one bothering you.->start]]you’ve been given a lot more paperwork since your last secretary quit, which is annoying. most of it is important, to some degree—the forms for adding the recently deceased to the ephemeral wing, a few requests for books to be sent to some of the smaller library branches, etcetera.
but the reason you need a secretary to begin with is because you’re //horrible// with keeping track of things, [[so it’s nothing that can’t wait.->start]]sure enough, your apprentice is at the door, bright-eyed and holding a package in one hand. “lazarus, sir, i got you a gift!”
between ezra’s excitement and the poorly hidden thread around hir neck, you have a sinking feeling about what that gift might be. you open the door wider anyway. “come in, then. [[let’s see it.->gift]]”“so, if you don’t like it, that’s fine—”
“don’t judge for me, mourner. just hand it over.”
you accept the gift sie tosses to you as sie perches on the edge of your desk, foot tapping insistently against the wood. the wrapping is a quick job, and you make even quicker work of discarding it, staring down at the bracelet in your hand. the circle of thread has [[a familiar fragment->fragment]] lovingly attached.
“[[ezra.->uh oh]]”your first thought is that it’s larger than you thought it would be.
it’s warm, in your hand, rough on two sides where it must’ve broken off its whole. the cracks are filled in with gold, or something like it. the colors change in the light in sunset purples and deep blues.
[[looking at it makes you sick.->gift]]“archival…?”
the last name. ezra’s using your last name. you must’ve scared hir, you think, but the thought is passing and faint. you don’t know what expression is on your face and you don’t particularly care to.
“i can’t accept this,” you say. somewhere between the words, [[you’ve put the fragment back in hir hands.->uh oh 2]] yours are shaking.“okay,” ezra says. hir voice is full of concern and something like guilt, and that just won’t do, now that you’re able to think clearly and the threat is [[gone.]] “are you alright, sir?”
you sit back in your chair. “i’m fine. do you know of the first academic journal to publicly disparage the practice of fusion?”
ezra blinks at you. you resist the urge to laugh at hir bafflement.
“don’t tell me you didn’t research before you brought [[that thing->research]] to me, mourner.”you are far too aware that the fragment is still in the room, and that ezra is most likely wearing one around hir own neck. as long as it’s not touching you—well. it’s //fine.//
the threat is negligible, and the weight in your chest is [[irrelevant.->uh oh 2]]ezra’s nose scrunches in indignation. “of course i did my research! it’s just- that journal was lost a few decades ago, when all the copies went missing or were damaged. you can only really see it in the journals that reference it.”
[[you choose not to mention the copy of the “journal” in your desk drawer.->personal collection]] instead, you gesture for hir to keep going. it’s good for hir to work through these things verbally—writing has never done the trick for hir like it does for you.
“oh, well- it’s theorized by some that the reason it was lost is because it’s cited as one of the reasons why there are so few fragments nowadays. seeing the quotes from it, i can see why people agree.” ezra shrugs. “[[i don’t think that’s true, though.->smart]]”your personal collection has a lot of things considered “lost” or “destroyed.” that’s part of the reason why you keep them from the library circulation—the other part is that you’re rather protective of your own work. this journal in particular was never academic, really, and it’s not your fault it was taken as such. the other, genuinely academic works are simply… controversial.
some of it might be considered, ah, //blasphemous,// but you’ve never been one to mince the truth.
one of these days, ezra might get the chance to peruse those. but sie’s not ready for that. [[not yet.->research]]“you’re clever,” you compliment, “and right, for the most part.” ezra’s ears go red, hir hand going up to try and hide a pleased little grin. it’s an exercise of decades of practice that you don’t grin in pride yourself. “tell you what. if you can figure out the author of that journal by the end of this month, i’ll let you read the original copy.”
“the- hold on, what?”
“you heard me.” you gently push ezra off your desk, gesturing towards the door. “and you’d better hurry. [[i don’t expect it to be an easy task.->impossible]]”in reality, you’re sure ezra won’t even come close. but it’s a good challenge, and you’ll be sure to nurture the curiosity that comes with it when the time comes.
as it is, ezra looks excited and nervous in equal measure, and you know sie’ll put hir whole self to the task. sie always does. “alright, sir! i’ll be back even before then, and i’ll know it!”
“[[i’m sure.]]”the moment ezra leaves, you sink down into your chair and put your hand over your eyes. sie left the damned fragment, and it stares at you from your desk, taunting. if you want to move it, you’ll have to pick it up.
you leave it.
there’s no point in bringing up [[bad memories]] when you can just call someone to pick it up later.//Excerpt from “Fusion: A Cautionary Tale,” by L. Ival, et. al//
“Our conclusion is that fusion is not necessarily a bad thing, nor should it be avoided. Rather, we caution against the embracing of it wholesale, as people who are unprepared could have a traumatic first impression of it. In addition, those who have prior trauma with similar experiences could have that exacerbated by the experience.
This world has seen enough of that for several lifetimes over. [[It’s only fair that we don’t force it.->end]]”fusion could never really capture what that sword was like, anyways.
//end.//