Chapter 161 - 156: The Man Who Waited
The office was surprisingly modest.
John had expected the Chief Archivist of the Royal Library to work in an extravagant chamber lined with priceless artifacts.
Instead...
The room felt comfortable.
Lived in.
Tall bookshelves covered every wall from floor to ceiling, each filled with carefully organized books, scrolls, and wooden cases labeled in neat handwriting. A large oak desk stood near the center of the room, its surface occupied by stacks of manuscripts, quills, bottles of ink, and several magnifying lenses.
Sunlight filtered through a single arched window overlooking the library gardens.
The scent of aged parchment mixed with cedar wood filled the air.
It reminded John of Elder Rowan’s home back in Greenhollow.
A place devoted to knowledge rather than status.
Elena bowed respectfully.
"I’ll leave you two alone, Master Aldric."
"Thank you, Elena."
She quietly closed the door behind her.
Silence settled over the room.
The elderly scholar continued studying John.
Not in an uncomfortable way.
His expression carried quiet curiosity, as though comparing the young man before him with a memory from long ago.
Finally, he spoke.
"You seem disappointed."
John blinked.
"...Disappointed?"
"You expected someone more... intimidating."
John couldn’t help smiling.
"I suppose I did."
Aldric laughed softly.
"Good."
"I’ve spent decades trying not to look intimidating."
The tension in the room eased immediately.
---
"Please."
Aldric gestured toward the chair opposite him once again.
John sat down.
The chair was old but surprisingly comfortable.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Instead, Aldric poured two cups of tea from a small porcelain kettle resting on a warmer beside the window.
He placed one cup before John.
"I’ve found that important conversations are best held over tea."
John accepted it.
"Thank you."
The tea carried a subtle floral aroma unlike anything he had tasted before.
"It’s good."
"A blend from the eastern valleys."
"I’ve been drinking it for nearly forty years."
John smiled.
"I can see why."
---
Aldric folded his hands.
"So."
"You’ve been searching for information about dragons."
It wasn’t a question.
John nodded honestly.
"I have."
"And not merely dragons."
The old scholar’s gray eyes sharpened slightly.
"You’ve specifically been searching for the Dragon Kings."
John paused.
"Yes."
"I have."
Aldric leaned back in his chair.
"May I ask why?"
John remained silent for several moments.
He had promised himself to be careful.
The truth—that he himself was a dragon reborn with fragments of an ancient Dragon King’s legacy—was not something he could casually reveal.
"I’ve always been fascinated by them."
He answered carefully.
"The more I read..."
"The more it feels like history is missing something."
Aldric watched him quietly.
Then...
He smiled.
"A cautious answer."
John’s heartbeat quickened slightly.
"...Is that a problem?"
"No."
"In fact..."
"I would have been disappointed if you had trusted a stranger immediately."
---
The old scholar stood and walked toward one of the towering bookshelves.
He carefully removed a small wooden box.
Unlike the others, this box had no label.
Returning to his desk, he gently placed it between them.
"I have worked within these archives for sixty-three years."
He opened the lid.
Inside rested several brittle scrolls tied with faded blue ribbons.
"During that time..."
"I have discovered something."
He looked directly into John’s eyes.
"History often disappears for two reasons."
John listened carefully.
"The first..."
"It is destroyed by time."
He lifted one fragile scroll.
"No parchment survives forever."
He placed it back inside.
"The second..."
His voice became quieter.
"...Someone wishes it to be forgotten."
The room fell silent.
John slowly processed those words.
"They erased it."
"Not always."
Aldric corrected gently.
"Sometimes records vanish through neglect."
"Sometimes through fear."
"And sometimes..."
He sighed.
"...through deliberate effort."
---
The old scholar untied one of the scrolls.
Its parchment had yellowed considerably with age.
"This is a copy."
"The original no longer exists."
John leaned forward.
The faded text had clearly been written centuries ago.
Aldric began reading.
> "Let it be remembered that the Seven Dragon Kings stood not above the world... but beside it."
John’s breathing slowed.
Seven.
There had been seven Dragon Kings.
> "Each bore responsibility over one of the world’s great foundations..."
The next several lines had become unreadable.
Water damage had erased nearly half the document.
Aldric carefully rolled the scroll closed.
"As you can see..."
"Even the copies are incomplete."
John frowned.
"The public books never mentioned seven."
"They rarely do."
---
John hesitated.
"Yesterday..."
"I found a manuscript."
"’Fragments of the Elder Age.’"
Aldric nodded immediately.
"I know the one."
"It mentions the Dragon Kings as guardians."
John looked surprised.
"You’ve read it?"
The old scholar smiled knowingly.
"I catalogued it myself."
John blinked.
"That was decades ago."
"Indeed."
"I was considerably younger."
"You remembered one damaged manuscript after all these years?"
Aldric chuckled.
"My boy..."
"When you spend your entire life among books..."
"You begin remembering where every page sleeps."
---
John couldn’t help admiring the man’s dedication.
Sixty-three years.
Entire generations had come and gone while Aldric quietly preserved history.
"What made you invite me?"
John finally asked.
The old scholar grew thoughtful.
"For two reasons."
He raised one finger.
"First..."
"You asked the right questions."
John frowned slightly.
"The right questions?"
"Most visitors ask whether dragons truly existed."
"You asked..."
"What happened to them."
John remained silent.
Aldric continued.
"Curiosity reveals character."
He raised a second finger.
"Second..."
He looked directly at John.
"You looked at history..."
"...as though you had lost something."
John’s heart skipped a beat.
The observation was unsettlingly accurate.
Not because Aldric knew the truth.
But because he had sensed something deeper.
"I’ve met countless scholars."
The old man continued.
"Some seek fame."
"Others seek knowledge."
"But every so often..."
"I meet someone searching for understanding."
"I believe you belong to the third group."
---
John lowered his gaze to the teacup.
He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer.
Eventually...
He spoke quietly.
"I don’t know who I am supposed to become."
The words surprised even him.
They simply came naturally.
"I’ve changed a lot."
"I’ve grown stronger."
"I’ve met people I care about."
"But..."
He looked back at Aldric.
"The more I learn..."
"The more I realize how little I understand."
The room became quiet once again.
Aldric nodded slowly.
"Good."
John looked confused.
"...Good?"
The old scholar smiled kindly.
"The day someone believes they understand everything..."
"They stop learning."
He folded his hands.
"I’ve studied history for more than sixty years."
"And every year..."
"I discover another reason I was wrong."
John laughed softly.
"I never expected the Chief Archivist to admit that."
"The archives teach humility."
Aldric replied.
"Every answer uncovers three new questions."
---
The old scholar stood once more.
This time he walked toward the window overlooking the gardens.
"There is something else."
He said quietly.
"I believe..."
"The public library can no longer answer the questions you’re asking."
John slowly stood as well.
"What do you mean?"
Aldric turned back toward him.
"I would like to sponsor you."
John blinked.
"...Sponsor me?"
"As a temporary research assistant."
The words hung in the air.
John stared at him in disbelief.
"A research assistant?"
"It would grant you supervised access to sections of the archives normally unavailable to ordinary visitors."
John’s heart began beating faster.
"The restricted collection?"
Aldric nodded.
"Not all of it."
"But enough."
"There are records..."
He paused.
"...that deserve to be read by someone willing to seek the truth rather than simply accept comfortable legends."
John couldn’t immediately respond.
This was far beyond anything he had expected.
He had come hoping for another clue.
Instead...
A door that had remained closed to nearly everyone was beginning to open.
Outside the office window, the bells of Valenor rang softly, marking the beginning of another hour.
Neither of them noticed.
Because both understood...
That this conversation would change the course of John’s journey.
---
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