There are many different types of magic on Keceo; there are thought to be over a hundred. But to master one kind of magic can take a lifetime, some say. For example, cooking magic or culinary transformation magic is a popular thing for elves to learn, even providing a promising career, provided the caster is skilled enough.
Learning to cook each dish as described by the customer is hard enough. Factoring in that you provide the correct texture, taste, and appearance through mental visualization is incredibly challenging. Yet, we have some casters who dedicate themselves to fire magic, which is generally not a promising career field if you want to be anything outside of a guard for local nobility or a soldier serving the King.
It is a good habit to dedicate yourself to one type or school of magic before moving on to another. What you learn from one school can help build your skills in another. That is what building a connection is all about. Understanding will lead the elves into a glorious future.
From a general magic studies textbook: Currently out of the standard curriculum
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Clunk, clunk, clunk.
A somewhat heavy chair slammed against the stairs leading up to the center platform in the Great Library. The noise echoed off the walls, disturbing the few scribes present as they tried to organize, categorize, read, and document thousands of years of elven literature.
There were probably millions of different tomes within the Great Library, most of which were disorganized and scattered. Below the Great Library lay a many-roomed basement filled to the brim with documents. Seventeen rooms to be exact. It started as one, but, as with procrastination, you will get to it later.
The elven people have largely abandoned their past knowledge; only a handful still attempt to read and organize the documents below them. Even hundreds of years later, scrolls and tomes are untouched, unread, and stained with the Red Death.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
Gwyn was approaching the top of the stairs now.
"Aye, lassy. Ye plan on bangin' that shite all daye, or fuckin' get yer arse up here."
Tinkletonkle Rattail shouted, also known as Mr. Keeper to Gwyn.
"Sorry… I just figured… You were lonely."
Gwyn was gasping between words. She was tired from carrying the heavy chair.
If the young woman knew how to cast magic, she figured this would have been an easy climb, but no one offered to help and gave her strange looks as she clanked the chair against the stairs. The giant desk atop the platform only had one seating device, and Mr. Keeper's rump resided in it.
"Me? Lonely?" He chuckled. "Long as I have a good book and a drink by my side, I'm never lonely."
He did hide his smile from Gwyn, however.
"Well. I'll be up here anyway."
Clunk, clunk, screeeeeech.
The chair finally reached the top of the curling staircase, and Gwyn pushed it beside the massive desk carved out of a Divine Tree.
"My bloody ears, woman. Just 'cause I can't teach ye magic don't mean ye got to make me deaf."
He stuck two fingers in his massive, green, hairy ears.
Gwyn laughed.
"I'm not torturing you. I just wanted some company from one of the greatest minds we have in this… castle?"
"Not a castle, dear," Mr. Keeper corrected, but his skin did go a deeper shade of green at the compliment. "Anyway. I know yer here to bother me, but do ye plan on doin' anything else?"
"Oh, maybe just read a book or two. I have the next few days off because of what happened at the café."
Mr. Keeper gave a sympathetic nod.
"Aye, heard about that. Sorry, that happened to ye."
"No problem, I've gotten over it." Gwyn wondered why she didn't feel connected to the tragedy. "I feel worse for those who died. I, unfortunately, have a very pressing matter to attend to."
"Like what?"
"Like this."
Gwyn pulled out the bronze locket with the dazzling purple vines.
Mr. Keeper cocked his head.
"Aye, what's that?"
"I don't know. The Head Whisperer says it contains a message, and only I can open it."
"So you're tryin' to uncover information on that." Mr. Keeper snatched it from her hands. "Ow! That fuckin' hurts!"
He dropped it to the ground as if it were on fire.
"I was about to say not to grab it. Are you okay?"
She inspected his hands.
He quickly yanked them away.
"Aye, I'm fine here. Don't worry yer head about me."
Gwyn nodded, picked up the locket, and placed it in the pocket of her robe.
"Do you know of anything that would help find out what this is?"
Gwyn glanced at the pile of books on the desk. It was probably five times taller than Mr. Keeper. She wondered if any of them would be helpful.
"Aye, perhaps."
He hopped off the stool and waddled to a bridge behind the platform. He rubbed his hands; it felt like he had stuck them into a lit fireplace.
Across the bridge led to a door Gwyn hadn't noticed. The doors swung open, revealing a luxuriously decorated room. Red carpet, finely crafted furniture, and comfy chairs. A thick book sat on a pedestal.
She sighed, looking at the uncomfortable wooden chair she had carried up the hundreds of steps.
"Oh, forgot to tell ye, there are chairs in—"
"I know."
Gwyn pondered whether she should push the chair off the ledge.
It could hurt someone.
Then she thought about how many of the scribes had treated her.
Probably deserve it.
A few moments passed, and Mr. Keeper reemerged with two books in hand.
"This one is a real page-turner."
He handed her a leather-bound tome.
Gwyn read the title aloud.
"The Financial History of Keceo. How the Four Houses worked in Harmony." Gwyn lowered the book to her waist. "This isn't what I asked for."
"'tis a good read though."
He stared, smiling, and eager for someone to enjoy the same reading he did.
"I'll be alright."
She placed the book on an empty spot on the Divine Desk.
"Not yer speed? That's fine."
He handed her the other book in his hands.
"How to Make Your Gold Work for You."
Gwyn raised an eyebrow at the short green man.
Mr. Keeper looked pleased that anyone asked for his help.
"That one's really insightful, it is."
"Right."
Gwyn placed that book on top of the other one.
"Suit yourself, 'tis good reads. Let me know if ye change yer mind."
"Why did you hand me books on financial history?"
"And financial advice."
"Still... Why?"
"Money runs the world everywhere. Where I'm from, where yer from, ain't no gettin' 'way from it."
She poked at his chest.
"Yes, but that doesn't help me with what I asked you."
He swatted her hand away.
"Aye, 'cause I ain't got the faintest fuckin' clue."
"Maybe point me to a section on purple thorn magic?"
Mr. Keeper sat back down on his stool and thought for a moment. He raised his hand, which illuminated in a purple hue. Suddenly, a book flew from higher up on one of the towering bookcases. It drifted into his hands.
"This one might be able to help you."
Gwyn took the book from him and read the cover.
"5 Easy Methods to become as rich as a King."
Gwyn sighed and threw the book over her shoulders, falling all the way to the bottom of the staircase.
Mr. Keeper reached for the falling book. He despaired.
"Nooooo! That has insightful methods for obtaining more money!"
Gwyn laughed as she shook her head.
"You are something else."
Mr. Keeper, however, did not look pleased.
"Yer lucky I have three more copies."
"Anyway."
Suddenly, a twinge of guilt built within Mr. Keeper.
"There actually might be somethin' in the dungeons below."
"Are you sure? It's not going to be full of financial statements from thirty-five years ago?"
She said with a hint of sarcasm, but it was a real fear she had.
"Um… if there are, I didn't put them there."
"Okay. What's down there then?"
"Oh… mostly all the boring books and writings. All I know is the 'portant books are up here."
He patted the two books he had passed to her earlier.
"Like those financial readings?"
"Aye, nothin' more 'portant than that."
Gwyn rolled her eyes. Perhaps she could ask someone else for help opening this locket. Then she thought of Elise. Who seemed not to know how to open it, but maybe she could still help. Then she remembered how quickly she'd departed.
Where had Elise gone in such a hurry?
"I'll be back, Mr. Keeper. I'll need to check on something."
He gave her a warm smile, but was secretly glad she was leaving. He muttered under her breath.
"She has no respect for fine literature."
Gwyn rushed down the spiral stairs and started questioning the hooded figures below, who were reading and organizing a few dozen documents.
The Chosen One was eager to discover information on her friend, but forgot how the elves weren't pleased with her.
"Have you seen Elise?"
She asked one robed figure, who had their back turned.
"Sure, I saw her—" Then he saw who was asking. "No, I haven't."
"Where? I'm sorry. I don't mean to disturb you."
"I'm busy; leave me alone, Chosen One."
There it was. A clear reminder that Gwyn didn't belong here.
"I'm sorry."
Gwyn tried to back away.
"Get away from us, Chosen One." Another nearby scribe said. "Before we get blown up, too."
Gwyn felt embarrassment swell in her chest, pulling her lower than she already felt. The scribes began to crowd around her when a prominent voice interrupted the mob.
"What do you think you are doing?"
The voice bellowed, full of question and wrath.
It wasn't Mr. Keeper.