Invar stood at the entrance to the great city, trying not to stand out as he inwardly marveled at its size. He slowly made his way into the stream of people heading into the city. He heard smatterings of Likovan, Draxu, and other tongues he had never heard before. He even heard his own tongue on more than one occasion. He may not need the facade after all. As he approached the gate a guard draped in black fur stopped him.
"Hald Plazi. Verum in yi hyer kommen?"
"Ovi... komme hyer...studjie?" The guard's stern expression collapsed into laughter.
"You will study Likovan language, yes? Relax boy, I only have fun with you. This is open city, Welcome foreigner. Cause no trouble." The guard waved Invar through the gate with another chuckle.
"So much for not being outed." The city was almost more impressive inside the walls than out. Multi-story buildings flanked wide stone streets with awnings spanning overhead. The city was remarkably warm, many were even walking the streets without the usual winter garb. Through the canopy of awnings and laundry left to dry, Invar spotted the central spire. That would be where he would begin his search.

Invar nearly lost himself in the maze of streets, doubling back on at least three occasions. Eventually however, he encountered a problem. Between him and the spire lay a separate gate, this one closed and manned by far less friendly looking guards. Still, there couldn't be anything to stop him from getting in, he'd have to try. Loosening his neck, Invar approached the guard.
"Kon ovi... enkomme? Ovi... studjie linva Likvasi."
"You have passport, foreigner?" Before Invar could panic he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard another voice from behind him.
"He doesn't. Forgot it in his lodgings. It's my fault, Pytrosk, I was overeager to show him the city." The guard's expression softened.
"Snow on rocks, Anya. Only be more careful next time, yes? And you, foreigner, you will practice Likovan speak. Will make your life easier." The guard opened the gates and the two passed through before the guards shut the gates behind them. Invar finally worked up the courage to turn and face his mysterious benefactor; a tall woman with jet-black hair and a white bird on her shoulder.

The woman grabbed Invar by the arm and led him down the street.
"Come a long way, haven't you? I don't believe we've been properly introduced. Come, I know a place we can speak privately." Invar remained silent as the woman led him into a massive domed building. The foyer gave way to the view of the largest collection of books Invar had laid his eyes on. Two unarmored guards watched the entrance. Invar was soon pulled away and into the westward hallway towards a small chamber. As they entered the chamber, the woman shut the door behind them and placed her bird on a perch before taking a seat behind her desk.
"Anya Notryv, at your service. May I ask your name?"
Invar swallowed. "Dmetri. A pleasure."
"A fellow Buvostian then? What village do you hail from?"
"Invria. It's small, you've probably never heard of it."
"On the contrary, I have a cousin who lives there. His name is also Dmetri. Do you know him? I believe he's a corporal in the town watch."
Invar loosened his neck.
"I actually received a letter from him just a month or so ago. Said he was ambushed by a centaur."
"Praise Arkn he survived."
"Indeed. The gods were kind to him. Shame they couldn't kill the centaur though."

Invar nodded his head and avoided Anya's gaze.
"You know, Dmetri, Just a few weeks ago there was another centaur attack, not too far from the border."
"The border regions are dangerous indeed."
"Truly. Not particularly notorious for hybrid attacks though."
"I suppose not." Invar said, his eyes darting in and out of contact with Anya's.
"Have you ever seen a hybrid of any sort Dmetri? Something like a centaur, naga, or harpy?"
"I've only heard stories ma'am. Never seen one myself, gods be praised."
"Gods be praised indeed. Pray you can keep that streak Dmetri. A hybrid encounter isn't something I'd wish on anyone."
"Have you encountered one before, ma'am?"
"Four. Managed to take down two centaurs and one naga in my travels. Fought a harpy once but wasn't able to take it out of the sky. Still, I lived. More than most could say."
"You have a lot of experience then?"
"Probably more than anyone this side of the sea." Anya said as she leaned in and rested her chin in her hands. "Why do you ask?"
"You said the border region has a rampaging centaur. I'd like to be as prepared as possible to deal with one if I find one on the way home."
"Of course. Come with me." Anya rose from her seat and escorted Invar out of her office.

The two were soon back at the rotunda library. The guards raised their firsts to their chests as Anya led Invar past them. The library was magnificent; The floor shined with a dazzling light and the domed ceiling seemed to stretch as high as the sky itself.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Anya asked with a smirk. "My colleagues say this is from the old elven period, one of the only surviving structures of its kind."
"I've never seen anything quite like it..."
"I'll admit, I occasionally still get teared up seeing this place when the sun is shining through the stained glass. Shame it's so cloudy today." The two continued down to the far end of the rotunda before Anya stopped and retrieved a green book from one of the upper shelves. Placing the book on the table with a great deal of care, Anya opened to the foreword.
"This is the most comprehensive tome we have on those monsters. If there's something you want to know about them you'll find it here."
"Do we know where they come from?"
"Let's see..." Anya filed through the pages until she arrived at a page that made her eyes light up. "Here."

Invar leaned over the table to see the page Anya had pointed out.
"Hybrids like centaurs aren't actually created by the gods. The god's are too good for that to be the case. No hybrids are created by men and elves abusing magics." Anya said, pointing to the text and graphic illustrations of screaming people and hooded figures with glowing red eyes.
"Makes sense. How's a beast like that supposed to raise... children? Whatever you'd call them."
"A small blessing we don't need a name for them. Hybrids are made, not born. The twisted souls give themselves over to darkness, give up their very humanity."
"Who are these hooded figures? They're the ones turning people to these monsters?"
"Not unwillingly, but yes. We call them Dark Weavers in academic circles. They preform surgery and sorcery to turn two separate beings into a single abomination."
"How do we know this? What monster came forth and confessed their creation?"
"None. The weavers themselves may be apostates and workers of misery, but even I can appreciate their note-taking methods."
"How do we have their writings? Where did they keep them?"
"Well, the writings I found were in a mountain cave to the northwest."
"You found these writings?" Invar asked as he raised his gaze to meet Anya's.
"About seven years ago actually. Wasn't able to kill all of them unfortunately but I did manage to save one of their manuscripts. It was a great help in writing this book."
"Gods be praised for your good fortune, ma'am."
"Indeed. But come, you must be tired. I'll take you to the inn, you look like you've been on the road for too long Dmetri." Anya said as she took Invar's arm and began to walk him out of the library.