An Omen looms

Eight years went by surprisingly fast, to be fair the librarian never ran out of work to give us. The time has just been slipping past me.

I always thought that apocalypse would be a lot more "IN YOUR FACE!", I slept through the arrival of the undying. Yeah, some immortal being from outer space landed in the pacific ocean. In three minutes the american Navy send the undying to oblivion and back, if you can trust the radio news. 

I stopped my bike and checked the distance to the last sapling, yeah this is far enough. I've been planting trails of apple trees away from the library in all eight directions, both as a future food source and a landmark to help people find their way. 

This should be the last batch of saplings, after this my next task is to help the Kelts with the preparing of the festivities. 

I got back on my bike and continued into the direction west, I miss coffee. 

......................................................................................................................................................................

"I swear they grow bigger every day..."

Nomads, with the apocalypse it was only to be expected that the people would start to form factions, tribes, clans or whatever name makes them feel special. The nomads are a group of people with only three skills, finding, killing and surviving. 

I'm not talking them down or anything, I quite value their services. 

The apocalypse brought a whole roster of creatures, be it abominations, ghouls, fiends, things eldritch in nature, mutants or just weird animals. The nomads were the first to test how many of them could survive a well aimed buckshot. Turns out a concerning number of them can. 

They hunt monsters, eat those monsters and in turn become monstrous themselves. You are what you eat after all. 

There is at least two nomads in library at all times for a simple reason, to stand guard. Even though I have my own guards positioned as well. I'm no idiot, they want to have a presence in the library, they want to watch, want to observe. So do the Kelts, and my own people, they all have their eyes on the one who holds the most valuable resource, information.

The nomads offer protection in return for info on tracking, hunting, foraging and how to find water in the wild. 

There is also the Kelts, Farmers turned warriors. 

Unlike the nomads the Kelts had the misfortune of not being armed when apocalypse struck. Leaving them to do what anyone with everything to lose would have done, they picked up axes, hammers, pitchforks, hoes, pickaxes, sticks and stones or anything else heavy enough to pass as a weapon on this mostly green earth. 

The Kelts offer food in return of information about bird keeping, agriculture, martial arts and child raising. 

Eyes, something is watching, observing, approaching.

I turned around and the scholar took a step back. Why wouldn't he? The librarian  suddenly turned around as if he heard someone die. 

"Sir, the scouts send to the valley of peace just returned." 

"I'll see them after they have rested."

He nodded and turned to leave. 

I noticed that my scholars talk less and less with me, while the scribes completely stopped approaching me. You'd think the guy in charge would be more popular. Do they feel watched too? Is there something lurking in the dark, stalking in our blind spots?

If I was to be killed, could anyone just take all this information? Just take the faction I spent eight years building from nothing but books? Is something hiding out there secretly gunning for my life? Or is it hiding in broad daylight, perhaps one of my own scholars? How easy is it to end a life that trusts you?

I can't let them have it, I won't let them have it! If I go down this whole place is going with me!

......................................................................................................................................................................

"Sir."

"Stay seated, gentlemen- are you eating a flower?"

"Yes Sir, daisies, good for the lungs you see."

"Aren't you supposed to boil them or something?"

"My gut can take it, Sir."

"... anyway, gentlemen, I'm sure you can guess why I'm here. I need you to tell me what you saw there, what you experienced."

The scouts fell silent for a short while before one of them stood up. 

"We found plants."

"Plants?"

"Yes, plants that grew from heaps of scrap metal and strange fruit grew from them." 

"I assume that those were in the sacks you brought with you."

"Yes Sir, we gathered ten samples before we felt like we were being watched and decided it would be better to return." 

Watched? Yes, no doubt, there is something or someone out there prowling around us.

"Anything else you could observe?"

"Nothing except a whole lot more vandalism."

"Very well, you have earned your rest for the day. Tomorrow you will accompany me to the Keltic Barn."

"Yes Sir."

A dark Omen is looming over our heads. There is something out there, in some place at some time. Whatever it is, wherever it is, whenever it is, it has me-us in its vision. We are it's prey. 

......................................................................................................................................................................

I returned from planting apple trees a while ago and after a good meal I have done nothing but knit baskets out of straw with a Kelt woman, don't know her name yet. The lady is strong built, would have been surprising if she wasn't, with shoulder length black hair. 

"Is it just me or does the Librarian look sick?"

I looked up at the woman I've been knitting with for the past half hour, should I ask for her name?

"He's pale as if the blood was sucked out of him and his eyes, does he even sleep?"

"I heard he's been having nightmares lately."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah, there's a rumor going that he had a stash of giggle juice and ran out, saying that he is suffering under withdrawal."

"You think that's true?"

"It's a possibility, him being a skinwalker is a possibility too."

"A skinwalker wouldn't take in a sickly appearance to fit in."

"That's what a skinwalker would want you to think."

She just huffed and went back to making baskets before she raised her head again. 

"What will happen if the librarian... you know?"

Not wanting to ruin the festive mood most are already in she sidestepped the heavy word, you never know which part of the conversation children are hearing. 

"I guess one of the three grand scholars will... help doing his duties."

"Could he have been... spiked?" 

"... are you implying that one of the grand scholars poisoned him with intentions of killing and taking his place effectively becoming the new leader of the fools?"

"Language... Why did he name a faction whose biggest thing is having knowledge fools?"

"No idea, maybe he felt a bit poetic? It's more creative than apparatus."

"Hey now, the apparatus are cool guys. They have working TV's and an arcade area."

"I always wondered what the entrance price is."

"... there is none?"

"What?"

"Yeah, they decided to give true socialism a go. Ever read animal farm?"

"I actually have."

"Huh, I haven't"

"We actually have a copy here if your'e interested. But that's not the point. You're telling me after seven years of their existence now is when I learn that they're communists?" 

"You didn't know?"

"Of course I didn't know! I spent half a year hiding in a ditch with a sharp stick before I knew that a mile away is this save haven of a Library."  

"Huh, wanna go there some day?"

......................................................................................................................................................................

"What are these?"

"Fruits our scouts found. I thought you see a lot of things as a nomad?"

"We don't just go to the valley of peace whenever, everything is made of metal there. That alone is a bad enough omen."

"The big monster hunters afraid of the unknown?"

"Yeah, fear is a friend in the wild."

"Huh, anyway could you help me out here? These fruits are tough and I would like to see the insides." 

".. you know, there is a rumor going that a grand scholar is poisoning the Librarian."

I took the fruit from the grand scholar, a blonde lady almost four heads shorter than me.

"Why are you bringing that up now?"

I couldn't tear the fruit, It has a curious shape like a combination of an apple and a banana, I'll just apply pressure until it goes pop.

"Just wondering, how would you handle the relations?"

"You're not accusing me of poisoning Loui, do you?"

"No no no, just curious, what you would do differently?"

"Honestly, our current system just works. I guess start training our own "troops", even though we could just continue to really on you nomads to do what you do best."

Cold juice prickled down my hands as the pressure caused the fruit to burst. The outside is shell is elastic and tough making it almost tear proof, but the inside is pure liquid. 

"Don't just spill it everywhere, here."

I put the torn fruit in the glass the she picked from a shelf, It has the shape of a banana but the width of an apple, its shell is navy blue with a strong metallic tint, smells of copper too. in just a few seconds the shell is half submerged in a puddle of blood colored liquid which came out of it.

"Interesting... curios."

"What is this?"

"You might want to wash your hands, less you get heavy metal poisoning. And to answer your question, I have no idea."