Talan brushed away the vines concealing a small nook in the cliff face. With uneasy steps, he eyed the darkness that consumed the passage ahead and rummaged about feeling for his flint and steel to ignite his torch. The flame of his torch wavered as did the beating of his heart as he made his way through the narrow passage. His only comfort was the gentle stroke of moss across his soles and the cool breeze that caressed his cheek.
When he stepped beyond the recesses of the nook his brow tilted and his torch dropped singeing the moss that reached beyond its borders. Forgetting the torch had been in his hands, he reached for his map and exposed the tattered paper to the cool air. Legends told of a great library that occupied these lands. It was said a single Aggronaut collected the scrolls and tomes held within its archives. Talan lifted his eyes from the map and gazed out at what lay before him. Meeting the sun as it rose was a sea that seemed to have to no end.
This was perplexing, just four days ago a trio of battle bards had recited tales about the construction of the library and the exploits of the Aggronaut who oversaw it. Talan had even approached the trio after their performance to confirm the accuracy of his map and persuaded them to tell him more about their own journeys to the library. The battle bards had spoke of no ephemeral sea that concealed the great library. This particular trio was known for their occasional jiggery-pokery, but during Talan’s conversations with them they had seemed quite genuine.
Nevertheless, the sea was before him, in that there was no doubt. He made his way toward the sea which was now bathed in amber as the sun continued its climb. As he approached the waves that seemed so desperate to linger and the sun’s rays pierced the very clouds trying to contain it, he looked out across the sea and saw that scattered across its surface was a multitude of ships.