Beatri and the Red Book

She sat beside the window with a candle dripping heavily onto the floor. The entire room was illuminated softly by the flame as it flickered back and forth with the circulating air in the room. She had a window open just a crack, letting the cold breeze wash over her, and she flipped the page of her book with a gentle finger. Her hands were rough, and there was dried glue on her palm from earlier in the day. She sighed lightly and looked up from her book to the window beside her. The bright glow from the Tree flooded into her home, she didn’t really need the candle on her other side, but the wax made her feel like she was inside one of the books she created. She took a deep breath and looked back at it, staring at the flame flicker. There was a knock on her door before a weary old woman peeked her head in. “Beatri? Deary, it is very late.” her voice was soft and carried about the room. Her hair was in a choppy grey bob that rounded her already round face. On her nose was wired glasses with thick glass magnifying her small eyes. Beatri smiled fondly at her and nodded. “Yes, mother, I will be down in a second,” Her mother closed the door, leaving her alone. Beatri was small, just like her mother. Her hair was long and a silky smooth grey that cascaded across her shoulders. Half of it was pulled up by a ribbon, and just like her mother, wired glasses were covering most of her face. She closed her book gently and set it on the table under the candle, blowing it out with a puff of her breath. She nodded at the book and stood, wiping off her long rough skirt. The room was washed in a blue haze, and she pulled her hair out of the ribbon before tieing it all in a tight bun. Swirls were peeking out from her collar and reaching up around her ears. Both of her ears were pointed at the tips, and her glasses had a long beaded string connecting the earpieces. She walked over to her dresser and picked a pair of scissors from the top, tucking it into her waistband, and slowly made her way to the door. The night around her began to shift, and she could feel as the rest of Tara started to fall asleep. Beatri took a deep breath and let the peace wash over her gently. She made her way out of her room and down the dark stairs of her home. At the bottom was a vast library, the books resting on their shelves. “This batch is very thick, Beatri. It’ll need the pine glue, love.” her mother’s voice called from the back of the store. “Okay, was that still on the desk?” she called back, making her way immediately to the desk in the middle of the room. Books were stacked on their side of it, and there were pieces of paper scattered across it. Some of the pages were written on, and many were blank with glue stains covering them. She picked up a glass jug, looking at the label for a second. “Yes, the brush is back here. I’ve already cleaned it,” her mother called out, and Beatri sighed and tucked it under her arm before making her way to the back. “What book are we gathering tonight?” she spoke softly as she came upon her mother, who was analyzing a page intently. It was blank under her magnifying glass, but Beatri could see its weaving clearly. She gasped lightly and placed the jug on the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me we were binding this tonight?” she moved closer to her mother and looking into the magnifying glass. “Tropaz brought it just a minute ago,” her mother looked up at her and smiled widely. “I thought it wasn’t going to be done until the royals settled here? We were just at the castle welcoming their return!” Beatri looked intently at the pages, the weaving of the material swirling around each other. She could see immediately it was created from the Tree of Life. No other material would manifest its self like this. “Well, I guess we just have to get started. It has to be perfect for the heir,” her mother moved around the table and picked up the glue, placing it on the table. “Do we have its spine and cover?” Beatri continued to inspect the pages, flipping through each of them slowly. She had to make sure each was perfect. Her mother clapped once and jumped, her clothes moving heavily with it. Her cardigan dropped passed her shoulders, and she nodded. “Oh, yes! I almost forgot! Give me one minute,” she moved quickly, walking away from the table and back up the stairs. “Where are you going?” Beatri called after her. Her eyes widening at her mother’s sudden sprightliness. “A surprise!” she yelled down from her room. It was seconds before her mother was back in view with a large box. It was sealed heavily, not a gap visible in its construction. Beatri’s eyebrows knit together, and she moved the magnifying glass away from her. “What is that?” she looked at it as her mother placed it gently on the table. She reached out and brushed her fingers across it slowly. It was smooth, and the wood had not a single trace of grain on it. “The binding. When I was your age, Tropaz brought it to me. They said to keep it until the perfect book needed binding. They knew it was going to be for this one. Still, it took a while before I was even told we would be doing this,” she chuckled softly and pressed her fingers across the edge and let the top slowly open. “Now is the time, this binding is older than you,” light of the Tree that seeped through the windows cast on the leather within the box. It looked as though it was created just days ago. It was made of rose petals sealed together, a gold trim, and a name written across it. Beatri took a deep breath and reached out, letting her fingers touch against the title. “Let us get started then,” she spoke in a whisper, as though she were afraid her voice would cause it to fall into pieces. The two of them worked gently with each page, taking a brush coated in glue to its spine. They bound the book with a thin blue ribbon, pressing the pages together tightly with a frame. Beatri took her scissors to the mull as the night continued on. Each of them knowing not a single mistake could be made in the binding of this book. The sun rose, and the blue haze was replaced quickly with the honey light seeping through the windows. Her mother breathed deeply, wiping sweat off of her forehead and turning to Beatri. “We can’t continue until the glue is dried,” she smiled lightly, her eyelids begging for rest. Beatri patted her shoulder gently. “Please go get some sleep. I can watch the shop,” Beatri, on the other hand, looked as though sleep had no pull on her body. Her mother reached out and cupped her cheeks gently. “Bless your father’s genes,” she pressed her forehead to her daughters and kissed her cheek gently. Beatri laughed lightly and nodded. “Alright, alright, don’t get too carried away reading,” she moved slowly away from her, smiling before making her way back to the stairs. Beatri watched as her old mother made her way up the stairs, each of the steps creaking quietly. She took another deep breath and looked back at the book before walking to the desk in the middle of the room. She sat at the chair behind the desk and reached up, pulling the ribbon from her hair. Beatri looked around for a second, before picking up a book from her pile and opening the cover to the first page. She let her eyes watch the words, not entirely able to focus on the sentences in front of her. She looked back at the book they were binding just moments ago. Its red cover looked like leather from here, and Beatri could almost feel its power from here. She could hear the story that was going to be written into it. The town around her was waking, and Beatri closed her eyes. She tucked her hair behind her ear, listening to the books around her. She could hear their soft whispers creeping off of the pages. The jumble of commotion from outside was making the books quieter. Although, under all of the voices, it was still there. She looked back down at the book open in front of her and read it intently. The sounds from outside suddenly hushed before breaking back into its usual tone. She looked up from her book, immediately making eye contact with a person outside. Her heart stopped as she looked into the eyes of a man with curly bright red hair and silver eyes. Beatri looked away quickly and then back to the book drying behind her. He looked just as he did when he walked down the throne room. The world was moving fast, and their story was laid out before her. She smiled softly then looked back down at her book, continuing to read.