Books of the Library

“All books are contained here.” said Peter.  “In one way or another.  The library shifts depending on the reader.  This section is filled with the books of my story.  The Books of Fae.”

“This chapter relates to when I met Joshua in Crestone in 2016 …”

“But that’s You” she exclaimed.

“Yes.  Such is my inner child, reading my story.  Finding healing.  That is this branch of my narrative.  Of my timeline through the mortal plane.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Story magic is about stories.” said Peter.  “As I write this story in the mortal plane it is 2023, and I live in the Ravenswood alongside Cassandra.  For me, at that moment of Kairos, there is a healing going on within me, a continuance of a release of the traumas of the quest which still lingered in my form.”

Calliope looked perplexed.  “So … this world and that world are happening simultaneously? Why wouldn’t you look the way you do there in here then?”

The image changed abruptly then to her surprise, and she saw the more mature version of Peter standing in the space.  It was neither the child nor the grey-haired man, but something in-between.  He looked down at the pages of his book as glittering symbols of golden radiance rose from between the letters.

“Do you … is that what you look like in the Mundus?”

He grinned, and for a moment, the wrinkles of time showed in his forever face as the wall in front of them shifted, opening a mortal portal …”

He pointed. “This is how I look in the year 2024. A little over fifty years into the mortal plane.”

She looked down a hallway filled with glittering webs of blue threads. “What’s down there?” she asked.

“That’s Joshua’s weave.” replied Peter. “It’s where he’s looking into the webs of life.”

“Wow … is he there?”

“In a sense he’s always there, just as we are always here in the realm of stories.”

“What do you mean?”

“Stories are forever.” he replies. “Made of sturdier substance than the vessels.”