"... left as an exercise to the reader."

It was not unusual for the wisps to wax and wane in their numbers from time to time. Oswald wonders if their numbers had fluctuated like this before, when the Library was first established. It’s not a secret that both suns were near enough for the day to be extended with a second twilight when the Library was first built. It is of course purely conjecture on his and many other colleagues' parts, but magic seemed to have been far more reliable then. Many spellbooks, chronicles, and other books from that time spoke of magic in easy terms – as if the authors of those works assumed gathering the magic for a spell was as easy as a deep breath of the common air.

Oswald lets out a sarcastic grunt at the thought. Lore- and spellbook writers are keen to prove their own prowess and understanding by way of vagueties. This is as true now as in centuries past. He chuckles in memory of several instances where, upon clearly being unable to explain a concept themselves, a mage would leave the clarification of the obtuse subject as an “exercise for the reader". Often, these “exercises" were left with an air that attempted to blame the reader themselves for their misunderstanding, not the author's poor explanation.

This easy tone of magic in the older books, however, is too consistent to be a case of intellectual insecurity. For example, several documents outlining the founding of the Library, both contemporary and in the immediate centuries following, all spoke of the wisps as a brilliant yet inconsequential afterthought. Their reliability in understanding the query-cards, or, in the founding days if the documents are to be believed, the thoughts of the mages that interacted with them, was stated as unchallenged fact. Mages also appeared able to create and destroy wisps at will, creating a wisp for each particular query, and dismissing it into the ether once the query was completed.

Oswald knows, as well as all others in the Library, that this spell is thought to be lost. It is why mages now reuse already-conjured wisps for several queries at once. It has been stated in some texts that this added context of preceding queries enhanced the wisps’ accuracy and reliability. Some other sources claim that the “persistent wisps", or those used to index and reference the continually updating body of works in the Library, began to be reused as query workers as well, and so the practice of instantiating a new wisp for each query fell away.

Oswald doubts that many other scribes take as much an interest as he does in the history of how the wisps came to be. It matters not who takes in interest in that subject, however. The patterns that are emerging in both the historical literature and the behaviour of the wisps in the present day are crystal clear. Magic is waning and growing weaker. Coincidentally, this waning follows in step with the second sun as it grows smaller and smaller to just another bright star in the sky.

Oswald returns to his annotations – not much exists in the way of a detailed report of what exactly happened the last time the second sun waned like this. The cosmology charts of centuries and generations old does indicate that the two suns in their planet system have a waxing and waning cycle estimated to be several thousand years long. But, Oswald sighs to himself, human beings have short memories. In addition, recorded history is often unreliable at best and misleading at worst.

Luckily, he has access to a slightly longer memory in Silovar, and most recently, Osthryn, but both Dragons are young and misinformed of millennia-past history themselves. Both are hatched during or around the zenith of the second sun’s presence, and would be terribly unfamiliar with the events surrounding the last time the second sun first made itself a faraway star. Their impressions and stories are useful, however. Osthryn had divulged to him that the last time the sun waned was called the Great Darkening by her elders, and that it was an event they seldom mentioned and never explained when pressed. Silovar, likewise, had said he had heard that the “Darkening" was a catalyst for his people to migrate South, and that likewise, he had precious little further information.

Another pattern is also making its way in Oswald’s head the longer he researches the subject – magic is intrinsically linked to the suns somehow, and that is of direct interest to the Dragons. Mages know that the suns are from where they draw their power, but it is more like a mystical belief than a directly harnessed fact. It is almost like a rote ritual to invoke the suns in your spells, or like a good-luck charm to wait for cloud cover to part before casting them. Such is the fickleness of tradition. Purposeful actions become habits, habits become unexplained doctrine, which in the end, after generations of the same, fade into meaningless and rote traditions that have long since been removed from their original meaning. Any urgency around the changing nature of magic is drowned in the short memories of his species. If, in fact, magic had not significantly declined in your own lifetime, how would you notice that it was steadily declining over hundreds of years?

Dragons, like other mythological fae-creatures, have internal magic of their own. They do not need the suns as much as human casters do. To most others, this is pure speculation and rumour, since precious few have had the privilege of meeting a Dragon face-to-face themselves. Oswald, however, has had the privilege thrust upon him twice – and can therefore confirm for himself that this rumour is indeed true. His trip to Bettramon had failed to assist in bringing these two puzzle pieces together in his head, but it did at least provide him with valuable context in the form of his rescued apprentice.

“For goodness sakes! How long does it take for a simple query like this to be answered?"

Oswald looks up at the terse whisper coming from Frederick, two stands across from him. A young librarian, the target of Frederick’s annoyance, resignedly places several tomes on the central table. The girl is quiet, but not a pushover by any means.

“Any amount of time, really. It depends on how close a wisp is, how many are active, how many titles are relevant to the query, and finally, how accurate the wisp you were able to find was in their search in the first place. If you are unlucky, you will have to spend some extra time rejecting the titles that are clearly unrelated," she explains coolly, straightening herself. Oswald suppresses a chuckle at the exchange.

“You don’t have to describe wisps to me, I know how they work," Frederick hisses. Oswald notices his hands clenching at his sides, oddly strange black lines snaking up them. It seems as if he is trying to conceal the lines with a kind of powder, clearly unsuccessfully.

“I was just making sure," the librarian sing-songs with a smile, and promptly turns to leave, sweeping Oswald’s cards with her. Frederick notices Oswald watching him. “Where is that apprentice of yours? These librarians are tragically slow today."

“Seems like another involuntary wisp ‘load reduction’," Oswald muses patiently, concealing his displeasure at Frederick by looking back at his work. He has never had any patience with rudeness, and Frederick has been acting more and more rude lately. Whatever new habit Frederick has picked up, is clearly not agreeing with him. “Osthryn has taken ill, I am afraid. Nothing serious, not anything can be with Martina’s capable hands."

 “She comes from just North of here, right? Sunderland?" Frederick asks too inquisitively for Oswald's taste.

Oswald lets his silence tell the lie for him, absently flipping through his own notes and making a fresh query card for the usual migration habits of wyverns.

“In any case," Frederick continues, still flustered and irate, “she must recover soon, and show these incompetent children what a Librarian really is."

“Nothing is stopping you from climbing the ladder yourself, Frederick. You made it clear that you know how wisps work," Oswald hums, purposefully ignoring the pointed glare. He finishes the final quill-strokes of his sentence with a deliberate emphasis.

Wisdomroot might have its place in some magical ceremonies, but it or any other substance's overuse is well beyond the bounds of Oswald's patience. Whether this or any other drug that painted the lines of Frederick's hands was the cause for the exascerbation of Frederick's usual short mood and proud character was not for Oswald to wonder, but he certainly is not going to indulge it.