Book 11: Chapter 47: Candlekeep

“Mastashia, can you tell me all about Candlekeep in detail?” Qin Lun’s gaze flickered. When he had been with Milleras before, the well-informed Sun Elf Prince had told him about many famous events and places in Faerûn, including a bit about Candlekeep. But it had been just a few sentences; even Milleras himself hadn’t known the full details.

“Of course!” The Highland Elf wasn’t surprised that the Moon Elf Prince before her didn’t know much about Candlekeep.

In truth, although Candlekeep was famous throughout Faerûn, most people who knew it well were learned historians and arcane researchers. Ordinary people, even nobles of various nations, knew little about the place. They only knew it was a fortress-like library occupied by arcane scholars.

Candlekeep faced the important trade city of Beregost on Vastar Road across the sea, connected by a broad path called the Lion’s Way.

This gathering place of knowledge stood high on towering cliffs overlooking the Sword Coast. It was a six-sided, diamond-shaped fortress. At the junction of every two walls stood a mage’s tower.

It was once home to the great prophet and Great Sage “Alando.” The great library here held many of his historic prophecies concerning Faerûn. The most famous prophecy among them was about the arrival of the phaerimm.

Candlekeep used to be just a gathering spot for a small number of scholars studying Alando’s prophecies. As they left behind more research works and knowledge here, it gradually became the famous great library and arcane sanctuary it is known for.

(The “arcane” mentioned here wasn’t just about magic. It also included all fields magic touched, like enchantment, alchemy, magical creatures, ancient runes, and divine magic. Likewise, it covered general academic knowledge like philosophy, music, architecture, forging, politics, and economics.)

Outsiders gained entry to this castle in two ways: paying a large amount of gold coins, or providing knowledge or unique writings that Candlekeep didn’t possess. Commonly, stories on the continent said you had to give Candlekeep a new book.

Candlekeep was surrounded by powerful multiple-layer protection spells. These ensured nothing burned except wicks and lamp oil. Not a single sheet of paper could catch fire inside this castle. This protection also blocked destructive spells, killed germs and booklice, and forbade anyone without the Candlekeep mark from entering the central library.

However, this spell covering the whole fortress used up huge amounts of magic crystals. So, the yearly upkeep cost was an enormous figure.

Candlekeep had an absolute rule: “Anyone who destroys knowledge, whether using ink, fire, or sword, brings ruin upon themselves. Here, books are more important than lives!”

Candlekeep had two types of permanent residents. The first were researchers. They usually dressed in monk-like robes and acted with more devotion than the most pious religious follower. They called themselves Preachers and Spreaders of Knowledge. They also sent agents to buy precious books and texts.

The other type of resident were arcane researchers, usually powerful magicians and great sages. They made contracts with Candlekeep’s Preachers through the generations. Candlekeep gave them access to the books, knowledge, and tall tower laboratories they needed. In return, they provided the fortress with protection.

The strongest one among them was called the Keeper of the Tomes. His assistant was called the First Reader. This person was traditionally the second in power, while also being the wisest great sage and seer within Candlekeep.

Beneath these two were other Great Readers, Chanters, Professors, and tower guards.

Candlekeep’s central tower, which held the central library, was surrounded by beautiful gardens, with a ring of other buildings beyond them. These included guest lodgings, a griffon stable, a granary, a warehouse for supplies, a hospital, an Abbey of Oghma (the God of Knowledge), and a small shrine to Deneir, Gond, and Milil. The outermost ring was the fortress’s six-sided, angular walls and the mage towers.

Visitors to Candlekeep could usually stay for one continuous period of ten days. They couldn’t enter again for a month after leaving. Visitors weren’t allowed to make written notes inside the library, but they could ask the scholars here to copy texts for them.

The price for an ordinary copied book was one hundred gold coins. Magic texts and some rare writings cost more, ranging from hundreds to hundreds of thousands of gold coins. Forbidden Spells were not allowed to be viewed or copied outside the keep.

Candlekeep’s most valuable writings were generally stored in the vaults of the underground labyrinth. This area also held the tombs of generations of scholars who devoted their lives to knowledge.

Though these scholars didn’t bury books with them when they died, their tombs usually contained personal heirlooms and spell notes—absolutely priceless treasures. Normally, only their recognized inheritors could take these items out of the tombs.

Security here was so strict that no intruder had ever truly entered Candlekeep via the underground labyrinth. Even if some legendary rogue made it in, he would face the labyrinth’s strongest guardian—Miryrm.

Miryrm was the ghost of an ancient silver dragon. She had been bound here a thousand years ago by the great sorcerer Tors to protect Candlekeep’s scholars, buildings, and books. Supported by Candlekeep’s protective magic array, Miryrm was an immortal spirit. Even if defeated, she would return to life shortly after, unless the entire Candlekeep was destroyed by a Forbidden Spell.

However, Miryrm usually didn’t kill intruders. Her spirit was too lonely. She preferred talking over fighting. She often appeared before visitors, offering historical legends she knew in exchange for information on significant current events.

Of course, if you tried to trick Miryrm with false information or attacked her, the silver dragon ghost wouldn’t hesitate to unleash a pile of Draconic Magic, blasting you directly into dust.

Another vital thing when dealing with Miryrm—carrying books was forbidden, whether they belonged to Candlekeep or were your own. The silver dragon ghost would insist you surrender and “return the books correctly” to Candlekeep.

(In Miryrm’s view, all books belonged to Candlekeep. This belief inherited the arrogance and twisted humor common to all ancient dragons: What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is also mine.)

Every book in Candlekeep had at least one copy. Rumor claimed a complete “mirror library” existed somewhere hidden in Faerûn. All books in Candlekeep bore the fortress’s symbol—the castle’s tall tower ablaze with candlelight atop its spire.

…

“Linda, is that Candlekeep’s outpost in Baldur’s Gate up ahead?” Mastashia turned her head and asked.

“Not exactly a major outpost. Just a relay station for transferring magical supplies.” Linda pursed her lips. “My teacher has some investment here. We can borrow their hippogriffs to get back to Candlekeep. That’ll help save you all some precious time.”

Hearing this, the group looked towards the hillside ahead. From the sparse woods, they could indeed hear eagle-like cries.

By now, they were half a day’s journey from Troll Claw. With the help of Iristin transformed into a giant eagle, the group had escaped without too much trouble from the waterfall cliff summit. They were truly out of the Troll Mountains.

The Thornblood Trio, Sif Hulan, and the old butler Mason had already parted ways with them. Before separating, to show his gratitude, Qin Lun gave part of the gold coins the apostles got from Umberlee’s Church to Rick’s group. Another part he gave to Sif Hulan, who’d gone penniless again after rescuing them. Gold was useless to the apostles now anyway. Giving it to Rick and the others left a good impression on both the Highland Elf and Linda.

Figuring out payment when they reached Candlekeep wasn’t Qin Lun’s concern. Even without Linda, Mastashia would find a way.

Rick and Sif didn’t refuse the gift. Whether it was the knight returning to the Kingdom of Xia Ya or Sif rebuilding his caravan, both needed substantial funds.

The only thing that surprised Qin Lun was Idria. Despite all she’d been through, she insisted on continuing north with them. True to form, believers of Lady Loviatar seemed all like madmen and masochists beyond words.

With the Zhentarim conspiracy so immediate, Qin Lun and his companions hadn’t even had time to feel sad parting from their friends after leaving Troll Claw. They’d had to set off again immediately, heading for this place.

This was the closest Candlekeep outpost to the northern exit of Troll Claw. Year-round, it stabled over a dozen adult hippogriffs for transporting valuables—usually precious books, writings, and magical materials or alchemical items destined for mage towers.

As they climbed the hillside, a simple two-story wooden house came into view. In front of it was a small hippogriff stable. Though it housed only about ten hippogriffs—large birds requiring more space than horses—the stable itself was significantly larger than a typical horse barn.

“Miss Linda! Aren’t you supposed to be in Candlekeep right now?” The magic apprentice stationed at the wooden house clearly knew Linda. He looked astonished upon seeing her.

“Hey, Rasko!” Little Linda’s expression turned awkward; obviously, the apprentice reminded her of her teacher’s certain anger. “It’s a long story. First, get us something to eat, we’re starving! And get some No.7 Holy Water for my companions here. They’re all badly injured.”

Shedding the heavy burdens of the past half month, Qin Lun felt his sleep this time was incredibly sweet. Even with his strong self-discipline, when he opened his eyes again, it was already dusk the next day. The others hadn’t fared much better; they had to stay another night in this forest cabin.

This rest was necessary, though. The No.7 Holy Water had powerful healing properties, but it took time. This was especially true for Iristin and Idria, who had endured much torture. Their hidden injuries weren’t fully healed even now.

At daybreak on the third day, the group finally felt refreshed again. Mounted on hippogriffs, they rose into the sky, flying towards the sacred land of knowledge—Candlekeep.