Anatolius and the Timebound Vessel

“Are you able to get a look at it?” An anthropomorphic grey squirrel asked Anatolius. His voice was filled with a hint of desperation.

“Well, I’m not sure. There are other projects that I need to do,” replied the phoenix historian. He was attempting to sleep after finishing a month-long project but had only gotten an hour of sleep before being rudely awakened by a late-night courier. He now stood in front of the squirrel, with tiredness in his voice.

The squirrel pleaded to the avian in front of him. “Listen, our last guy didn’t want to stick around, so we could seriously use the help. Our client is going to be upset if we don’t figure this out soon.”

“Then perhaps do not make deals with a merchant that only cares about profits,” Anatolius thought to himself.

He squared his feathery shoulders before responding to the desperate plea.

“Ok, ok,” sighed the historian before responding sternly. “I can work on this project, but it will cost you. My other clients won’t be happy that I’m prioritizing your project higher than theirs, especially when I already started work with their projects.”

The squirrel cleared his throat, left hand curled into a fist and in front of his mouth. It appeared the phoenix’s response left an impression on him.

“Mmm-ahem, right. Thank you for going along with this,” the squirrel started, walking over to an object covered by a blanket. “Let’s get this project going, starting with the main subject.”

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2 weeks later…
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Anatolius was sitting at his desk, looking through a book about pottery and culture. His face was scrunched into a look of serious thought as he looked through its pages. Taking interest in a page, and without looking away, the historian reached for a narrow slip of card paper and placed it between the pages of the book. Satisfied that he was able to save his mark of interest, he proceeded to flip to the next set of pages.

“I don’t understand,” the phoenix thought to himself while looking through the book. “Calem Sigroy was able to decipher the hardest of ancient works in a matter of days. Yet, I can’t work on the simplest of objects!”

It was clear from anyone’s perspective that the historian was getting frustrated by the project. The squirrel told him it should have been simple, and Anatolius would have agreed. The only problem was this was a lie from the start. The project in question was a large pot with a slight crack at the lip. It was decorated with a pattern consisting of spirals and leaves at the top and bottom. In the middle of the pot showed a drawing depicting several, basic figures huddled around a fire. What was odd about the drawing was that it included a totem that the historian had never seen before.

Anatolius’s first week was spent comparing pottery from his past experiences. He first started with an earthenware jar that belonged to the ancient Minoki, a race of mink-like anthropomorphs that were not only farmers but anglers as well. When it was clear that the comparison yielded no results, he moved onto the next object. The second object in question was rather in pieces, but it was still intact enough to tell that it belonged to the Monarhi tribe, a tribe of nomadic felines. Sadly, the clay shards did not match with the pot from the project.

The second week was spent reading through various books and catalogues detailing pottery. The historian hated this option because he could only see a picture. He would rather be looking at artifacts closely and be able to examine them from all angles. He also would rather have gone to another city that had a better collection, but his time management was stretched thin between projects, and it would have taken too long to travel.

Anatolius began flipping through one of his books trying to identify the pot in front of him. There were some clay-like objects in the book that came close to looking like the one before him, including one that was used by an ancient shadow society of crow-like avians known as the Aw’Raka. Both the pot from the project and the one depicted in the book had the same group of people huddled around a fire, but it lacked the totem and the patterns. Something about the fire though caused the historian to think harder than normal.

“Hmmmm,” the phoenix thought to himself. An idea suddenly appeared before him.

“I wonder…,” he thought aloud.

The Aw’Raka were in the same region as some of the founding avian races. Anatolius reached for another book titled “The History of Shoberia.” Flipping through the pages, he found what he was looking for: a map containing the region and the races that occupied it.

Carefully examining the map of the region, and after some scrutiny, Anatolius found what he was looking for: the owl-like race known as the Niavirgos. Resembling great horned owls, the Niavirgos practiced a tribe-like culture. Part of the culture included huddling around large fires and celebrating various events such as good harvests.

Remembering the name, the historian quickly grabbed for an old, superficially worn book about the history of the Niavirgos. Skimming the book’s table of contents, the phoenix found the page he was searching for and quickly flipped through the book until he arrived at the chapter. Only skimming through the first few pages of the chapter did the historian discover what he was looking for. In the middle of the page where his feathery finger touched displayed an ink drawing of several Niavirgos and Aw’Raka members huddling around the fire, complete with totem.

Anatolius would have called the project complete at that moment if it weren’t for one rather significant detail. To the left of the huddle was another race that looked like anthropomorphic owls as well, but had more refined features, including their crest feathers. The mysterious owls’ appearance threw the phoenix in for a loop. There was now a credible possibility that the artwork on the pot was not accurate. Either somebody didn’t want anybody to know what happened or someone’s artistic skills were lacking.

“But why and who?” Anatolius thought out loud. The phoenix was now at a loss for what to do. As if to answer his question, a loud knock could be heard coming from the foyer of the building. Blinking his eyes and face lit with surprise, the phoenix rushed for the door, albeit haphazardly. Once at the door, the phoenix cleared his throat before opening the door.

In front of the entrance was a female owl that appeared with a mix of brown and ash-colored feathers. The owl’s face was adorned with white feathers. Her elegant form was hidden behind a cream-colored dress. Large tailfeathers trailed behind the owl as though someone was dragging a rug. The owl’s wings were tucked neatly behind her, without hinderance coming from the attire. Her two crest feathers stuck out from atop. The owl’s roundish face was accompanied by an inquisitive expression that was furthered by orange eyes.

“Are you Anatolius Pantazis?” the owl questioned.

“Yes, but I must ask, who are you?” replied Anatolius, curious as to who the owl was.

“My name is Amelia Ashdown. I was hoping you could help me with something. I found some old objects in my parent’s house. I’m afraid I might break it if I try to examine it myself.”

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