"The city library, right?" The driver of the limo turned and looked at Thomas and Beau as they slid into the backseat. "That's next on the day's plans?"

"Aye," Thomas agreed and shut the door behind him. "Time for a little adventure I'd say. Nothing like letting the mind wander through stories and fables to find the truth in their meanings... Knowledge is power, hi?" He chuckled and smiled at Beau...

"So, fables and stories, you talkin' about stuff like the Grimm brother's stories?"

Thomas chuckled and shook his head, watching Beau's eyes light up as she realized that, PERHAPS, the Brother's weren't so far off in their grim and wicked adventures of fairy-tale.

"No no, dear man. I have a personalized copy of Kinder- und Hausmärchen, signed by the brothers themselves, actually. It was handed down in the Order from mentor to student since eighteen twelve. One of the first prints of what later became known as Grimm's Fairy-tales... I have the eighteen-fourteen version too which added around seventy stories!" Thomas smiled and winked at Beau. She'd have to read those for certain.

"Anyway... no, the library has access to many books that I don't have in my personal collection that may allow some insight into something we are trying to write a thesis on."

The driver nodded, "Ah, yes. That's what you smart people do... Always. When in doubt, go to the library..." He laughed and returned his focus to the road. "So, thought about that other little book store I mentioned?"

"Honestly, I haven't," Thomas answered sincerely, "but now that you mention it I might be interested after the library."

Turning to Beau, Thomas leaned in and whispered, "Just so you know, we're headed to a section of the library that hasn't been touched in probably decades aside from a few hands here and there. Most of whom are probably related somehow to the Order of the Congress..."

He leaned back with a big grin, hoping he got her excitement going with the idea of dusty manuals and old books probably in other languages...

Beau... having never actually been to a library... gave him mixed signals. She was excited about something new, and the possibility of finding out about her heritage. But as for dusty tomes and old books... she had no reference to be excited about. And she was just too shy to admit it. He absolutely got her motor running with his recondite prattle, and she always loved it when he spoke in languages she didn't understand. But... truth be told, she struggled to read ENGLISH, let alone anything else. And she feared that her presence in the library would only tarnish his opinion of her once he figured that out. 

It made her sad and nervous. And under the varnish and patina of hopeful enthusiasm, that anxiety showed through like worn rust in all the wrong places. Picking at the hem of her dress, Beau forced a smile as she blushed uncomfortably. She hadn't really thought about this being an issue when they first discussed it. But then, she hadn't really known the extent of Thomas' polymathic intelligence then, either.  

Maybe he could teach her... she was an incredibly quick study when given the opportunity to learn. But, unfortunately, as an orphan, a runaway, and a floozy... she'd never had that opportunity. And suddenly, for the first time in a long time, she was very self-conscious about that lack. 

Thomas leaned back and slipped his arm around the woman beside him. Noticing her tugging at the hem of her dress, he gave her shoulders a squeeze and then bumped his head against hers.

"Nickel?"

He held his forehead against hers, his eyes looking directly into her sparkling orbs as she searched for his meaning. The look she gave him told him she didn't understand what he was asking... Nickel? No, the jewelry she wore was, well who knew honestly since it's had come from Kovi and the closet...

Thomas chuckled as he realized the confusion. "For your thoughts, love. Nickel for your thoughts. What's bothering you? I assumed you'd be excited to read about the folk lore of your ancestors?" He pulled his head away and looked more at her face. She was certainly excited (GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER YOU PERVERTS!), but he could tell she was apprehensive as well.

"Go on then, speak your mind. Whatcha thinkin'?"

Beau shrugged nervously, like an embarrassed child. "I kind of am... it's just... I don't even know who... or what my 'ancestors' are... or were." She was chewing her bottom lip something fierce as she continued, "And... you're so smart." She smiled and her blush grew deeper, "Which is amazingly attractive. But also... intimidating. Because... I'm not. And... I don't want you to think..." 

Isabeaux's beautiful blue eyes sparkled with tears as she turned her face toward the window in shame. "I just... I feel... And... you oughtta have a moll that's on your level, is all." Her voice cracked even as she said it. 

Thomas grabbed her chin and turned it back to him almost instantaneously. "Don't you do that, Beau... I've watched how quickly you learn. Three days and you were handling advanced lessons without proper tools to handle it. You're at, or perhaps beyond, my level of comprehension. It's not what you know, but your ability to learn and succeed that makes your intelligent. You are, by far, one of the smartest people I've had the pleasure to meet and know."

He smiled and turned her head away to kiss her cheek, "Don't ever think you aren't smart. There's a difference between not knowing, and refusing to be educated." He bumped his head back against her forehead before leaning away and releasing her chin, his arm slipping back over her shoulders as he leaned back in his seat. "Onward and upward... That is the only way for you, my dear. Higher learning, higher class, higher life." Thomas tugged her close as he rolled down the window and breathed in the fresh scents of the ocean and the trees as they mingled together. "It's a great day to learn, too... Can you smell the rain? It's coming."

He chuckled and rubbed her arm with his hand. It would be an exciting, and educational day.

Beau perked up a bit... but just a bit. Leaning across his lap, she thrust her head tentatively out the window and sniffed the air. The way her curls blew back away from her face as they drove along the bay spoke volumes. "When the winds blow from the west, departed souls will have no rest," Beau muttered softly under her breath... an old wives rhyme Thomas may or may not know. "It'll be a sailor's moon tonight. And a high tide from hell when the thunderheads make landfall." Looking at the bay now, there were no thunderheads. And anyone who didn't know better would find her a curious bird. Eyeing the horizon, Beau lingered a bit longer, "Ship's going down tonight." 

Leaning back, she snuggled close to Thomas, not venturing a glance at his face. She still felt embarrassed about feeling stupid... and all the more so for her low-class hag-knowledge. But, she had little time to wallow in it as... over the winds... a high pitched keening faintly met their ears from beyond the crest of Puget Sound. Raising her head from Thomas' shoulder, she silently shot him one of those 'did you hear that' kind of expressions before returning to her cuddling. 

"We should really plan to head home before nightfall," she whispered softly, hugging him tighter. 

"Whew! That wind is howling through the pass tonight!"

Thomas gave Beau a look as their driver commented on the noise. They knew. They both knew -exactly- what they'd heard. However, his brow was quirked upward at her "low-class hag-knowledge" exhibited and the fact that she seems to understand the meaning so well about the impending severity of the weather and the night... Perhaps she was a bit akin to that of the wailers of the highlands? Thomas kept his thoughts to himself for the time being, but he was certainly more and more curious to know more about the beautiful Isabeaux, and what it was about her that was so special... Aside from her personality and physical beauty...

"Where did you learn to read the weather like that, love?" he queried, truthfully curious about some of her past. "I've not met someone who so keenly and swiftly observes the shifting patterns that spell the days events, and interprets them. What other odd tidbits of interesting quirks are hidden in that amazing brain of yours, my sweet, little mystery girl?"

Thomas smiled and ran his fingers through her hair, tugging softly on it as he did so. He chuckled softly as he watched her expressions while he stroked and brushed her hair.

Not long after the driver was slowing the vehicle and turning into a parking lot, stopping in front of the city library.

"Here you two go! I'll be here when you get out. Take all the time you need! Just tap on the window if I'm not standing outside of the vehicle, hmm?"

Thomas nodded, "Aye, thank you! Have a good rest and..." Thomas paused and reached into his pocket to produce his money clip. Slipping a few bills out, he handed them over. "We'll be here at least an hour. Go and grab yourself a bite, or a drink, or something. Just make sure to be back in an hour. Ta?"

The driver tipped his hat as he took the cash. "Thank ya kindly, Mr. O'Malley. Tim said you and that Order you work with are good people. This though? I appreciate this more than ya know. I'll be here, boss." As the man turned, Thomas caught the tell-tale sign of a side piece hidden beneath his jacket. He smirked and kept it to himself, but wondered if the man was just cautious, had heard about who he was driving around, or if he was connected somewhere. Either way, it didn't matter now... But Thomas would be more cautious himself from now on until they were safe at home. You could never tell in this world who was really your friend, and who was only your friend until they weren't.

Beau blushed bashfully as he queried her, "I grew up around the docks... after I ran away from the orphanage. When I was little, there were a few of the boatsmen that would toss me scraps or small fry from their catches. Whatever they could afford to not sell. And as I got older they let me work... sometimes mending nets or swabbing decks... sometimes singing for their boys in the evenings... sometimes other things." She shrugged softly, turning her face away from him just a bit. "They taught me things... other things I learned just by observing. You know, kinda learning how to watch for a good day when I could snag a meal. And then... of course... when you're a real street rat," she shot him a half-playful glare, "You learn to read safe days versus shelter days." 

"As for other odd tidbits and quirks... I wouldn't know off hand. But I'm sure that there are plenty. I've picked up a lot of things like that over my life. But... I don't know them off the top of my head. They're just kind of... natural, y'know? Survival instinct. That's all. I can tell when rain is coming... and snow, sometimes I can read the tides, birds, fish... sometimes. People... a room. I can tell you how well off somebody is based on their dress or their vehicle. I can tell you the best places to strike man to save your life. I can deliver a baby... and abort. I can tell a woman how to keep from getting knocked up in the first place. I know a little folk medicine. Just a little. Mostly for women. OH... and I know a little magic." 

Beau wiggled her fingers, imitating stage magic so the driver wouldn't be alerted. As Thomas pet her, she nearly purred, melting into his embrace. "You can ask me questions if you want. And I'll tell you if I know anything about it." 

As they pulled up to the library, Beau slid out of the car... side-eyeing Thomas who'd only just realized the driver was packing. Shaking her head, she waited on the curb as the men wrapped up their plans. Aaaaany minute now, she thought, Thomas would escort her in and they could really get down to business. 

Thomas took her arm and did exactly that... Escorting her to the door, he THRUST it open and waved his hands as if the place was as magical as his own home in the dumpster had been!

"Go ahead! Knowledge at your fingertips!"

He chuckled and took her arm again. Inside there were aisle after aisle of books, categorized and then alphabetized in each category. However, after watching Beau's awe-struck look at the sheer amount of books in the small(ish) vicinity with shelves that reached up to the vaulted roofing, Thomas grabbed her hand and drug her along a few of the aisles. He read them off as he went like he was looking for something before he chuckled and paused at one end of a bookshelf. The other end was a "U" shape with no outlet, and Thomas nodded.

"Hang on and don't let go!"

He didn't give her much warning before running at the bookshelf and dragging her along. He could feel her apprehension as they approached, her body naturally resisting his tug... But as she embraced for impact and closed her eyes, they passed straight through the shelving and into an even -HIGHER- vaulted ceiling room, filled with books that flew around the room on their own and shelves along the walls that reached upward to the -at least- three story high roof above them. There were multiple ladder carts; two on each wall connected to the shelves. A few people were utilizing the room but none of them gave Thomas and Beau much attention. Each was either studying for their upcoming wizarding finals or so engrossed in the latest edition of stories from Beedle the Bard's collection that they just didn't even notice the pair.

"Welcome to the last library you'll ever want to actually use..." Thomas whispered in her ear whimsically before scampering off to start looking for a book or thirty that might help them...

"Fantastic beasts....Fantastic beasts.... Where are you, hmm?" He held out his hand as he looked around... Eventually a book hopped from the shelves of it's own accord and flapped it's way like a bird down to Thomas' outstretched hand and landed, spine down and open.

"Ah! There we are!" he exclaimed happily, yet quietly. It was still a library after all.

"Any others that may help us understand what we're looking for in a being that is magical, but not entirely human, feel free to jump and join..."

That was a terrible wish. Terrible indeed. As Thomas headed back to a table and set the book on the table, ten other books decided to join them. All flew from ALL directions as they conjoined on the table he chose. Thomas laughed, but he noticed Beau staring at the book in his hand, or more specifically, the author's name. Newton Scamander, or as they all knew him, Newt...

"Aye, yes. He's going to help us whether he's available or not... His knowledge always will be!" Thomas chuckled and winked. "Well, shall we get started?"

Beau gawked so hard at the astounding scene around her that, had anyone cared to notice, they would easily have been forgiven for believing he'd just brought a muggle into the library. She wasn't just spellbound, she was outright dumbstruck... frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth agape. She'd never seen anything like it... well, save for the lobby this morning. But still, this was something else entirely. Books literally flew... carts pushed themselves... pages rustled as if speaking their own unknown language. And to everyone else, it seemed entirely normal. 

Quietly, Beau followed Thomas to the table... disturbing the entire library as she yelped, ducking to dodge several books as they zoomed across the room from different directions. "Sorry! Sorry," she whispered, from her hiding place crouched safely behind a chair. A couple of youngsters chuckled, and the older woman perched halfway up a wall cart glared down her nose with an expression that made it very clear she believed Beau didn't belong here. 

With a soft huffle, Beau straightened herself, peering down at the curious stack of books until her gaze fell on the one in Thomas' hands. Newt? Their Newt? Well... his Newt. She'd never gotten to meet him. And now, might never. Reaching out, she caressed the embossed name scrawled along the spine. This might be the closest she ever gets to shaking hands with the man who might finally tell her where she comes from. It was bittersweet and reverent as her blue eyes welled up for the second time that day. 

"I don't even know WHERE to start," she admitted softly, "I don't really know what it is we're looking for. Tommy... I don't know how to do this." Her large eyes peered at him pleadingly. She really was helplessly lost and entirely overwhelmed. How did one even ​​​​​​begin to search for something that they weren't even sure existed. She didn't know anything about magical creatures. She ​​​​​​barely knew anything about magic. Was everything a possibility? Or was that weird. Were magical animals like regular animals? If so... wouldn't that kind of be off-limits? What was the difference between her and the phoenix she'd seen recently? 

The poor dear looked like she could melt on the spot from sheer overwhelm and embarrassment. There were certain questions you just didn't ask. And beyond that... there were too many to even ask. So she simply settled for, "What do you need me to do?" 

"Well first off, perhaps a little divination to help ease the search. We can also -ask- the books to help." He chuckled and looked down at the books. "To any of you that believe you can help us answer the question, what type of magical being is she, tremble with excitement..."

Thomas chuckled as -all- of the books on the table trembled except for one. "Okay..." he continued to chuckle and then grabbed the one that didn't tremble.

"Why did you fly over here to help if you couldn't hmmmm?" he asked as he picked up and inspected the one singular book, twisting it in his hand to read the title.

"Oh, you're a reference log, you'll help in your own way." Thomas smiled and set the book down. "Okay, well. Let's give this a try..." He took Newt's book and placed it in Isabeaux's hands. Closing his eyes, he opened the book to page one and then held his hands over it. "Tell me when the pages stop flipping... Also, try and LIGHTLY feed your energy into the books bindings so it can get a good read on you."

He quietly began encanting in what sounded like old Latin or Germanic, and slowly the pages began to rustle until they started to flip slowly... Building in speed until they were practically fanning Isabeaux's face as they flew around, searching and trying to get a read. They changed directions they flipped as the book slowly tried to pin down -ANYTHING- that might give them a direction...

Beau gave the book a gentle push, "Please, Newt. Help me." The poor manual almost seemed to sigh as the pages  continued to flip... first one direction and then the other before finally landing on a page titled, "Doxy." Gasping, Beau scowled at the pages, "I am not," she hissed. And the book shivered and shook almost as if laughing at her before the pages began to flip again. "Fairy," Beau read softly, "Werewolf, Centaur, Merpeople, Chimera... Merpeople, Chimera... Mer... Oh for Christ's sake, it's not stopping," Beau huffed, reading off each page that paused... but the book always continued to flip, never landing on a page for more than a few seconds; just long enough to make her hope. 

With a heavy sigh, she snapped the book shut and tossed it back onto the table. "Next," she called to Thomas and nearly knocked herself over as another book flew directly into her hands. The golden script on the front was in a language she didn't understand, the embossed alphabet seeming to shimmer like golden sunlight on snow: Ⰰⱀⱌⰻⰵⱀⱅ Ⰱⰵⰻⱀⰳⱄ ⱁⱇ Ⰿⰰⰳⰻⱌ . 

Stiffly holding the manuscript as if it were a venomous insect, Beau blinked at Thomas. "What do I do with this," she whispered softly. "I can't read it." 

Thomas practically whispered in argument with the book through his teeth as he cursed it for continually flipping between Merpeople and Chimera... "I know she's a chimera of sorts, dammit! But she's a human...mostly!" he hissed out quietly... He snapped out of his almost trance-like search as Beau clapped the book shut and audibly called -"NEXT"-!

The book that landed in her hands was one Thomas had never seen... However, the script he had. Or at least something similar. Rubbing over the lettering, almost as if it was braille, he attempted a rough translation.

"A-a...ain... ain-chee... ancient... ANCIENT!" he exclaimed excitedly as he got the first word before lowering his head as multiple shush-ings were tossed out from around the room.

"Sorry, sorry!" he whisper yelled at the others before turning back to Beau.

"Ancient... b...beings. Ancient Beings...uhhhh...uh..fff...of... Mmmmuuuhhhh...maaaajjjj... majik? Ancient Beings of Majick? I think?" he whispered out at Beau with a lofted brow...as if she could tell him yes or no. Regardless, this one would be hard to read without the help of...oh wait, magic!

Thomas grinned and opened it to the first page. "Okay... So far we have a bit of what feels like pushing in a direction from Newt's book, so... You're not of a beast type, I don't think... So you're not like some half-blood Dragon or anything. Which means you're classified as a being. And if my translation is right, then perhaps this book will be more helpful... So we try again. Let me know if it pauses, then I will translate."

Again he held his hands over the pages, encanting, and they began flipping quickly through the larger ramblings of ancient symbols...

Beau arched a brow, "HALF DRA... half dragon?!" She hissed, catching herself mid-yell as - yet again - all eyes in the room lifted from their dirty tomes to shoot her even dirtier looks. "Did you really think that might be an option??"

Thomas simply chuckled, giving no indication as to whether or not he'd been serious. With a grin impish enough to make the devil himself blush, he simply dove into divining the next book. This one, seeming almost hungry to be used, flopped open of its own accord and began flipping furiously. Almost as if intentionally, it stopped - froze, dead still - with no vacillation at all. 

Distressingly, the facing pages bore differing titles; each with what appeared to be a short description of a few paragraphs. 

ⰲⰵⱄⱈⱅⰻⱅⱄⰻ 

  wⰻⱅⱌⱈⰵⱄ ⱁⱌⱌⱆⱂy ⱅⱈⰵ ⰾⱁwⰵⱄⱅ ⰾⰵⰲⰵⰾ ⱁⱇ ⱇⱁⰾⰽⰾⱁⱃⰵ ⰿyⱅⱈⱁⰾⱁⰳy. Ⱅⱈⰵy ⰰⱃⰵ ⱄⰵⰵⱀ ⰰⱄ wⱁⰿⰵⱀ ⱇⱃⱁⰿ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰲⰻⰾⰾⰰⰳⰵ, wⱈⱁ, ⰰⱇⱅⰵⱃ ⰿⰰⱀy ⱌⱁⱀⱅⰰⱌⱅⱄ wⰻⱅⱈ ⱄⱂⰻⱃⰻⱅⱄ, ⱅⱆⱃⱀ ⰻⱀⱅⱁ ⱄⰵⰿⰻ-ⱇⰰⱀⱅⰰⱄⱅⰻⱌⰰⰾ ⱌⱃⰵⰰⱅⱆⱃⰵⱄ ⰴⰵⰰⰾⰻⱀⰳ wⰻⱅⱈ ⰰⱃⱌⱈⰰⰻⱌ ⰿⰰⰳⰻⱌ. Ⱇⱁⰾⰽ ⱈⰵⰰⰾⰻⱀⰳ wⰰⱄ ⱅⱈⰵ ⱅⰰⱄⰽ ⱁⱇ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰲⰻⰾⰾⰰⰳⰵ wⰻⱅⱌⱈ, wⱈⱁ ⱂⱁⱄⱄⰵⱄⱄⰵⰴ ⱄⱂⰵⱌⰻⰰⰾ ⱄⰽⰻⰾⰾⱄ. Wⱁⰿⰵⱀ wⰵⱃⰵ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰿⰰⰻⱀ ⱌⱁⱀⱜⱆⱃⰵⱃⱄ ⱁⱇ ⰲⰻⰾⰾⰰⰳⰵⱄ, ⰰⱀⰴ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰰⱃⱅ ⱁⱇ ⰿⰰⰳⰻⱌ ⱈⰵⰰⰾⰻⱀⰳ ⰰⱀⰴ ⱌⰰⱄⱅⰻⱀⰳ ⱄⱂⰵⰾⰾⱄ wⰰⱄ ⱅⱈⰵ ⱃⰵⱄⱂⱁⱀⱄⰻⰱⰻⰾⰻⱅy ⱁⱇ ⱁⰾⰴⰵⱃ wⱁⰿⰵⱀ wⱈⱁ wⱁⱆⰾⰴ ⱂⰰⱄⱄ ⱁⱀ ⱅⱈⰵⰻⱃ ⰽⱀⱁwⰾⰵⰴⰳⰵ ⱁⱇ ⱌⱈⰰⱃⰿⱄ ⰰⱀⰴ ⰻⱀⱌⰰⱀⱅⰰⱅⰻⱁⱀⱄ ⱅⱁ ⰰⱀⱁⱅⱈⰵⱃ ⱌⱈⱁⱄⰵⱀ ⱇⰵⰿⰰⰾⰵ. Ⰲⰻⰾⰾⰰⰳⰵⱄ ⱅyⱂⰻⱌⰰⰾⰾy ⰿⰰⰻⱀⱅⰰⰻⱀⰵⰴ ⱁⱀⰵ wⱈⰻⱅⰵ wⰻⱅⱌⱈ – ⰰ ⱂⱃⰰⱌⱅⰻⱅⰻⱁⱀⰵⱃ ⱁⱇ ⱈⰵⰰⰾⰻⱀⰳ ⰿⰰⰳⰻⱌ – ⰰⱀⰴ ⱁⱀⰵ ⰱⰾⰰⱌⰽ wⰻⱅⱌⱈ – ⰰ ⱂⱃⰰⱌⱅⰻⱅⰻⱁⱀⰵⱃ ⱁⱇ ⱈⰰⱃⰿⱇⱆⰾ ⰿⰰⰳⰻⱌ. Ⰱⱆⱅ ⱁⱌⱌⰰⱄⰻⱁⱀⰰⰾⰾy ⱅⱈⰵ ⱄⰰⰿⰵ wⱁⰿⰰⱀ ⰿⰰⰻⱀⱅⰰⰻⱀⰵⰴ ⰱⱁⱅⱈ ⱃⱁⰾⰵⱄ.  

Ⱄⰰⰿⱁⱓⰴⰰ  

Yⱆⰴⰰⱄⰰⰿⱁⰲⰻⰾⰰ ⱁⱃ ⱄⰰⰿⱁⱓⰴⰰ ⰰⱃⰵ ⱃⰵⰾⰰⱅⰵⰴ ⱅⱁ ⱄⰰⰿⱁⰲⰻⰾⰰ, ⰱⱆⱅ ⰰⱃⰵ ⰵⰲⰻⰾ ⱇⰵⰿⰰⰾⰵ ⱄⱂⰻⱃⰻⱅⱄ wⰻⱅⱈ ⰵⱅⱈⰵⱃⰻⱌ ⱈⱆⰿⰰⱀ ⰰⱂⱂⰵⰰⱃⰰⱀⱌⰵ. Ⱅⱈⰵy ⰾⰻⰲⰵ ⰻⱀ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰿⱁⱆⱀⱅⰰⰻⱀⱄ ⰰⱀⰴ ⱇⱁⱃⰵⱄⱅⱄ, ⱌⱁⰿⰿⱁⱀ ⰰⱌⱃⱁⱄⱄ Ⰵⱆⱃⱁⱂⰵ. Ⱅⱈⰵ Ⱓⰴⰰ ⱄⱂⰻⱃⰻⱅⱄ ⰰⱃⰵ ⰿⰰⰾⰻⱌⰻⱁⱆⱄ ⱄⱁⱃⱌⰵⱃⰵⱄⱄⰵⱄ ⰱⰵⰾⰻⰵⰲⰵⰴ ⱅⱁ ⰱⰵ ⱃⰵⱄⰻⰴⰻⱀⰳ ⰻⱀ ⰴⰵⰵⱂ ⱇⱁⱃⰵⱄⱅⱄ wⱈⰵⱃⰵ ⱅⱈⰵy ⰱⱃⰵw ⱂⱁⱅⰻⱁⱀⱄ ⰰⱀⰴ ⱂⱁⰻⱄⱁⱀⱄ. Ⰻⱇ ⰰ ⰿⰰⰾⰵ ⱅⱃⰰⰲⰵⰾⰵⱃ ⱌⱃⱁⱄⱄⰵⱄ ⱅⱈⰵⰻⱃ ⱅⰵⱃⱃⰻⱅⱁⱃy, ⱅⱈⰵy ⱌⱈⰰⱃⰿ ⱈⰻⰿ ⰻⱀⱅⱁ ⰿⰰⱃⱃyⰻⱀⰳ ⱁⱀⰵ ⱁⱇ ⱅⱈⰵⰿ. Ⰰⱌⱌⱁⱃⰴⰻⱀⰳ ⱅⱁ ⱅⱈⰵ ⱇⰰⰻⱃyⱅⰰⰾⰵⱄ, ⰻⱇ ⰰ ⰿⰰⱀ ⰿⰰⱃⱃⰻⰵⱄ ⰰ Ⱓⰴⰰ-Ⱄⰰⰿⱁⰲⰻⰾⰾⰰ, ⱄⱈⰵ’ⰾⰾ ⱅⰰⰽⰵ ⱈⰻⱄ ⱄⱁⱆⰾ ⱅⱁ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰾⰰⱀⰴ ⱁⱇ ⱅⱈⰵ ⰴⰵⰰⰴ ⰰⱀⰴ wⰻⰾⰾ ⰾⰵⰰⰲⰵ ⱈⰻⱄ ⱄⱁⱆⰾⰾⰵⱄⱄ ⰱⱁⰴy ⱅⱁ ⱂⰵⱃⰻⱄⱈ ⱁⱀ Ⰵⰰⱃⱅⱈ. Ⰻⱀ ⱅⱈⰵ ⱂⰰⱄⱅ ⱄⱆⱂⰵⱃⱄⱅⰻⱅⰻⱁⱆⱄ ⰿⰵⱀ ⱆⱄⰵⰴ ⱅⱁ wⰵⰰⱃ ⰰⰿⱆⰾⰵⱅⱄ ⱁⱀ ⱅⱈⰵⰻⱃ ⱌⰾⱁⱅⱈⰻⱀⰳ ⰿⰰⰴⰵ ⱁⱆⱅ ⱁⱇ wⱁⱃⰿwⱁⱁⰴ, ⰱⰰⱄⰻⰾ, wⱈⰻⱅⰵ ⰿⰵⰾⰻⰾⱁⱅ ⰰⱀⰴ ⱅⰰⱀⱄy ⰰⱄ ⰰ ⱇⱁⱃⰿ ⱁⱇ ⱂⱃⱁⱅⰵⱌⱅⰻⱁⱀ ⰰⰳⰰⰻⱀⱄⱅ ⱅⱈⰵⱄⰵ ⱄⱂⰻⱃⰻⱅⱄ.

Unable to make heads or tales of either page, Beau sighed heavily. How were they to know what any of this said? How were they to know WHICH page? Would it actually help? Was the secret to... well, literally her entire life... really contained in these yellowing pages? 

Maybe her people spoke this... whatever it was. Maybe it really could give her a link, however tenuous, to some sense of identity beyond herself. Only Thomas would know... assuming he was patient enough to piece together each line. 

Yes it was an option... Why would it have not been an option? She could be -ANYTHING- at this point, and no one knew exactly what... Aside from maybe the books they were scrying through for breadcrumbs. This one though... This one was a difficult process. Thomas opened his eyes as Beau and the book seemed to stop moving. What on Earth was he looking at? These pages were nothing but ancient babble! That was probably exactly what they needed to find, though. So that was a good thing.

"Alright..." Thomas started, a huge grin crawling across his lips as he looked up at Beau who was holding her breath in anticipation. "Breath." He laughed.

"And then, let's see if we can't get these pages into a language I can understand easier..."

Thomas tugged his wand from it's place along the back of his belt and placed the tip to his eye like one held a gun to their head. It was awkward, but in the current moment, Beau would just have to trust him to not blow his own head off with the concentrated magic.

"Oculi transferendum..." he commanded softly. The veins around his eye sockets and spreading to his temple pronounced as his eyes turned a dark, off-white color and his pupil vanished completely. If only she could see what he could see now! Looking down at the book, he slowly began to twist the wand in his fingertips. The words, or symbols, on the pages began to shift and change as if one was trying to fine-focus a microscope and tune a radio dial at the same time... The more he twisted back and forth with his wand, the more things began to make sense, tuning his vision to translate the pages.

"Well, let's see... This first page seems to be a bit about witches." He chuckled softly. "This was definitely written by a No-Maj... However, their lore isn't necessarily wrong."

"So, in folklore, humans became witches with exposure to the spirit realm... That's not so much right, most are born with their connection already there. The exposure draws out the latent magical ability if it isn't already pronounced... Some people it stays locked and hidden away. Anyway. It's basically about there most always being a pair, a white and a black witch, for healing and hexing. However, rarely there would only be one being that served as both. Which means this next page should probably cover these two types."

Thomas looked at the second page and as he read quietly to himself at first he began to slow down and scan the words.

"Well... This feels like quite a jump, but this second page is speaking on I think, bad Nymphs of some sort? Some of it actually makes sense though. The charm, the voice... It's possible that you could be a... Samojuda in this language... Whatever exactly they are... I'm sure we call them something different. And I doubt you're particularly... bad like evil."

"It is said that, when angered, a Samojuda can change her appearance and turn into a monstrous bird, capable of throwing fire at her enemies. This, with the power of their seductive voices, makes them somewhat similar to Harpies in Greek mythology,"

he read aloud...

"Hmmm. We may need to find more info to make things clearer, but I could certainly see this being you after that day at the cabaret."

Thomas closed his eyes and pulled the wand away from his head with a flick of the wrist. His veins relaxed and he lowered his head, clicking his tongue as he stretched his jaw and popped it. Leaning his head from side to side, Beau could hear the bones and tendons in his neck stretching and popping softly...

"Ahhhh, that's better...

Beau grimaced and shivered as Thomas popped his neck and jaw. That sounded awful. Once she regained her composure enough for his information to settle in, she blinked up at him with a mixture of cached shame and trepid fear. "I'm fairly certain I've never turned into a bird," she whispered softly... half scolding and half remorseful. 

"And I'm not bad," she insisted, her whole frame folding in on itself protectively as she moved to lay the book back on the table. Back to him, she stared down at the medieval painting that adorned the far page... in all its overexaggerated glory. Her shoulders shook ever so softly as she traced the lines of the creature's vicious beak-like face and rageful eyes. That couldn't really be... could it? She was too pretty to be so horrible underneath... wasn't she? Too kind... except to... She wouldn't even finish that thought. Is that what happened to Benny?... her parents? Because she was inherently wicked... like this thing​​​​​​? 

"I'm not bad," she repeated softly, more to herself than anyone else. And Thomas braced for the inevitable spike in temperature as tiny teardrops stained the yellowing pages... but it never came. "It wasn't my fault," she whispered, her fingertips tracing the lines on the page. "It wasn....."  

Suddenly, with a sharp gasp, Beau yanked herself away from the book, looking as if she'd been bitten. Pulling her hand back, a single droplet of crimson blood trickled down her index finger; the screaming red a stark contrast to her pale skin. Looking at her hand in confusion, Beau returned to the book... half sure the thing had actually bitten her, before pulling away with wide eyes and shoving it toward Thomas. 

"Tommy, LOOK!" she whisper-yelled, pressing the heavy binding into his hands. There, in the center of the spine - quivering straight up and down - was the tiniest scrap of torn paper; the ragged edge ruddy with fresh blood. A missing page!

Thomas lofted a brow... She hadn't listened well. He'd said she wasn't bad like evil. Beau was definitely bad though. Hell, she was a thief like him and, technically a murderer even if he wouldn't go into that detail with her. Overall, though, she was right. She wasn't a 'bad' person. Just a person stuck in bad situations. However, noting the tears, he prepared for the heat wave that never came; which surprised him enough to watch her sulk some. She was hurting, and feeling guilty. He could tell...

"No kitten. It wasn't your fault at~" he paused as she gasped and jerked away from the book.

"You okay, love?"

He watched her, then pulled his head back as the book was irrepressibly shoved into his hands as if she'd been shoving it at his face; his eyes trying to focus on what she was referencing. There he saw it. A tiny piece of paper, stained deep crimson with fresh blood, wagging itself so ferociously that it had, in fact, bitten Beau.

"Huh..."  he scrunched his nose in thought. "That explains why it feels like we skipped a chapter in a novel as we jumped to the Samojuda."

He closed the book and held it in his hand, encanting softly, then tossing the book into the air. It hovered with him like a pet, a 'Lofty Libram' if you would...

"Alright, if the page is in this room, lead us there..." The book hovered in place, flapping it's cover and pages. "Great..." Thomas groaned slightly. He normally enjoyed an adventure... But there were far too many wizards and far too many places that a single page could have gotten off to. "Well, seems we have a mystery on our hands. We've got some searching to do, and it's gonna be like a coin in a Dragon's nest."

Looking at Beau, Thomas smiled. "But! We will figure this out. Until then, meet our new pet. We will call it 'Knowble'."

He smiled and looked at the book. "Let me give you a bit of a cloak from the No-Maj world, Knowble."

With a wave of his hand and a whisper softer than Beau's ears could make out, the book shimmered ever so softly, and then ... well ... continued to float there. Thomas nodded and waved his hand at the rest of the books, sending them back to their respective shelves and headed for the exit, the book floating in tow...

"Coming?"

Beau blinked for a moment before scurrying to catch up. As Thomas reached to tap on the window of the car, Beau caught his wrist and held him still for a long, tense moment. Without meeting his gaze, she whispered softly, "You're right, you know. I've stolen. But never form someone who couldn't spare it.  I've killed. But never no one that didn't deserve it. And that's different from being... born malevolent."

Her gaze flickered to his face for a split second but still didn't meet his eyes as she continued, "You've tortured. But I don't think you're inherently evil. It's not a part of your soul... not in your bones." Tucking a blonde curl behind her ear, she snerked softly, "I know what you said. It wasn't what you said that bothered me... exactly. See, the difference between you and me is... if I'm one of those things, then wickedness is a part of me. It's in me... at an innate, intrinsic, constitutional part of my very being. And that doesn't sit well. Good people can be 'murderers' under the wrong circumstances. As you well know. Good people... evil nymphs can't be good people." 

Still avoiding his gaze, she released his hand, wrapping loudly on the glass before wrenching open the back door and sliding into the back seat. 

"So," she piped with an ostensibly bright tone, "Where to next, Sugar?" Her crystal blue eyes pierced through him as she stared up through the open door... waiting.

Thomas sighed with Beau's admissions and escorted 'Knowble' into the car behind her, then slid in himself. Not answering yet, he pulled the door closed and tugged his cigarette case from his inside coat pocket and offered her one, taking one for himself and lighting it. He looked through the window, rolling it down to watch the trees blow slightly in the wind. The storm was approaching quicker now and the thunderheads could be seen rolling in a south-eastern direction over the bay. It was going to be a bad one...

"For now, probably back home where it's safe... No one should get caught out in that rain. But I think the book itself can help us look for it's previous owners."

Thomas puffed on his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the window. The driver turned to face them and asked, "So home then?"

Thomas shook his head, "No. I said -probably- back home where it's safe... But I don't generally play it 'safe'." He chuckled, exhaling again and looking at Beau. "I'm gonna need you to take us toooo..." he paused as he looked at the book and patted the seat beside him, so it would come to him and not make him look like a freak by pulling a random book from the air. Tugging the card from it's inner front cover, he looked over the name and address. The driver wouldn't be able to get them to -exactly- where they were going, but he could certainly get them close...

"I need you to take us downtown. Remember when we talked about you getting some food? Or a drink? Well, I'm thirsty, and a little hungry. So, we should head out to Ballard... Take us to The Black Wolf Lounge."

The driver nodded and put the vehicle in drive to pull away. Thomas winked at Beau and tossed his cigarette through the window, rolling it up as the flaming cancer breeder bounced and rolled itself along the sidewalk until it fell into a drain grate...

Looking at Beau, he sighed, and pointed at the thunderheads. He knew they would need to be out in the rain tonight... It was going to be a long, wet kind of night. However, that was neither here, nor there...

Leaning over to her ear, he whispered. "There is a hidden pub around the back down an alley near Alucard's lounge... We need to make it there and visit the owner... He may know where we can find a Mister Boverkin." He pulled away from her and smiled. "And about what you said, doll... Don't worry. I don't think that is you. I think -maybe- there is something there, but that's not all. Remember. 'Knowble' was written by someone who doesn't quite understand the world we're in, capisce?"

Thomas threw his arm around her and hugged her. He knew she wasn't evil. No fucking way was she just born malevolent. Not this maiden of his...

Beau nodded softly, not entirely convinced. She was quiet as they drove, listening to the distant roll of thunder as dark clouds stormed the horizon. She was sure he was genuine. But the fear of it still settled into her bones. He'd said it himself: EVERYTHING was an option because she could be ANYTHING at this point. There could be something there because he could certainly see this being her after the cabaret. He'd said it. Which meant it wasn't at all unlikely. Hell, it was the most probable theory they'd encountered yet. 

Trying to shake the creeping feeling of impending doom, she tried her best to force a smile in his direction. "So, if I am one of those... people..." she chose the word carefully, glancing toward the driver, "then does that mean that my parents were, too?" 

She almost looked hopeful... a bit too hopeful... as her eyes begged her, "Could one of them have caused the fire?"

This was going to be a long drive... and a longer wet night.