Page 80 of Within the Veil

"Call me Hudson, please. I know the Keepers of the Library are not beholden to the Monarchy in a typical way, but, the way I see it, I plan to spend a lot of time here, 'Queen of the Seelie' is a little long." I tease with a smile.

His moss-green eyes twinkle, and he inclines his head, "Certainly, Hudson. How may I be of assistance?" His voice sparkled with laughter, a cascade of joyous notes that almost had me swaying to the combination of the sound laced with the harps playing in the air.

I blink and shake off the weird sensation and consider my question, "Well, I am hoping that within this vast, well-maintained, gorgeous haven, you have a book or several about the Gods. More specifically, Uranus?"

His body bounces in the air as he bobs his head, "Certainly," he says with a barely restrained glee.

He shoots off into the air as his wings take him to an unknown aisle, and I stare after him, wondering why he is so excited about my request.

Carrying a book four times his size without any show of strain, he flies back and drops the thick, black text on the table with a loud 'thump.'

I stare at it with a pained expression because not long ago, I realized my new powers came with a nifty trick. While mentally, I can technically access a shit ton of knowledge, I still need a specific question, kind of like when you end up on a deep dive into youtube cat videos. Hence why all my Google brain searches came up with basic information because I didn't knowwhatto ask. However, when I put my hands on a bookabouta topic, everything comes to me, regardless if I'm specific with my inquiry or not. In terms of studying and learning, it is a fucking amazing tool. The brief bit of nausea that follows, not so much. And with a book this big and complex, I have to wonder how much damn information is going to be uploaded into my brain because, chances are, the bout of nausea will not be brief.

Before I touch it, I brace myself on the table and lean forward to examine the cover, which seems to absorb the light coming from the windows. An intricate, familiar pattern laces the leather-bound book, each symbol, line, and curve flowing seamlessly into the next as if etched by hand. Without touching, I hover my fingertips over the book as I trace each line, trying to place where I had seen these symbols before, and with every sweep, the book seems to warm until it feels as if it is searing my skin.

"Three?" I mutter softly to myself, my eyebrows coming together as I gasp softly, realizing exactly where I've seen this pattern before... in all of my Human Relations classes back home. Except it isn't a pattern, not exactly. It is a complex weaving of numerical symbols from different cultures and time periods that represent the number three as if the book evolved as time progressed, embracing the changes and adding to its importance instead of choosing to forget the past.

I groan lightly and look at the ceiling with a scowl, "Gaia, so help me if you are trying to cast me into a Faerie version of 'The Power Of Three,' spin-off on me I will spend the rest of my immortal life making sure your grandkids sing 'Baby Shark,' on repeat whenever you babysit."

The Keeper giggles behind me, and I look at him with a frown, "I know it's 'Charmed,' but you cannot tell me that it's not the whole 'power of three' thing that sticks with you. Well, that and Alyssa Milano, she's hot."

He shakes his head with a small smile, "I do not believe our Goddess is trying to cast you into a television show from the mortal world. However, Elodia is quite correct about you, Hudson. You are refreshing." He chuckles. It's all fun and games until you're battling a bunch of random assholes out to kill you just because you exist...oh...wait...

"However, the power of the number three has resonated throughout history...." He snaps me out of my thoughts and trails off with a look that says, 'Okay, your turn now,' before fluttering off at a record speed. I frown after him.

He's a great conversationalist, let me tell you, but I hate to break it to him, but it's been my turn for weeks now.

I sit on the edge of the table and look at the thick black text in front of me with a sigh, "The inception of history if you want to get technical. The repetition of the number three suggests harmony and the trinity of the mind, body, and spirit," I frown and pause.

"And...all early accounts consider the trinity as a representation of spiritual growth, divine protection and alignment with the higher realms...." My voice slows down to a whisper as my mind starts to spin. How would that all apply to Uranus? He was more so concerned with chaos than divine protection. But the moment I ask myself, I know, and I bite back a curse. The holy trinity has always been seen as a gateway to divine communication, and whether that gateway was used to plead for help or give thanks, it was still a connection and, with that, a link for someone to find a way to manifest their desires.

I sigh and run my hands through my hair, really wanting to stomp my feet on the ground because what are the odds of Uranus just really liking the number three and text in front of menotbeing the prologue to a cosmic 'fuck you,' to Gaia? With my luck...the odds are not in my fucking favor.

I reach my hand out to touch the text, and the moment my hand touches the cover, it feels as if I put it directly on a flame as I'm punched over and over again with information, and my stomach heaves as I spill all my sandwiches onto the pristine floor.

I ignore the hisses and furious fluttering of wings as the Keepers of the Library zoom in to clean the mess up.

Fuck,is all I hear resonate through the bond, and fuck is right because not only was Uranus prophecized to be overthrown by his own children, it was his fear that caused him to actually set off the chain of the events that got him to that point. One would think someone who was part of the inception of the universe wouldn't fall victim to the bullshit that is almost always the trigger for all bad guys everywhere, but I guess it had to come from somewhere--Uranus.

Not only did he attempt to kill his children, which is bad enough, the fucker tried to bury themwithinGaia's essence with a magical relic born from him ripping out his own soul. He didn't even half-ass it like Voldemort, he just ripped it clean out of himself. Uranus took being born from chaos too literally and became the personification of imbalance. By the hands of his son and a tool forged by Gaia, Uranus was castrated, dethroned, and shoved into Tartarus, where he is still being tortured several millennia later.

The book also brought the concept of '333' full circle because, for Uranus, the number literally resonates with his very essence. Except, he warps mind, body, and spirit for his own gain and wields it as a weapon of cosmic disruption.

Child of chaos, indeed, I think to myself.

Uranus's 'eternal' imprisonment would be comforting if it wasn't for the fact that history has proven that a major event is preceded by a motherfucker, who is thirsty enough for power, stroking and drinking directly from 'The Fucking Cock of Eternal Douchebaggery' while milking the proverbial prostate of their own inferiority complex. Ya know, just to tip the scales of balance. I'm looking at you, Nici.

Why are you talking about any other cock, Sweetheart?

Where can I sign up for this milking and drinking, Babygirl?

You certainly have a unique way with words, Mate.

Hudson, focus.

Zane is right, Angel. Focus, the book referenced a scroll as a signpost of cosmic disruption.

The timing isn't right, though, unless we are missing something.

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