118 - Library
Silence fell over the underground vault of knowledge as the trio pondered what to ask.
Oerix stayed unmoving, as if he wasn't breathing. The dim light of the mana torches shone on his expressionless face, but didn't reflect in his eyes. Two deep holes from which nothing could escape.
Gennorina was the first to speak. "I would like to learn more about spirits."
Oerix met her gaze. "You need to be more specific. I could point you to thousands of references, none of them meeting your needs. Spirits may not converse with humans easily, but they are hard to miss."
"Then, I'd like to find a way to make two spirits coexist in the same place."
Div was startled. After fleeing from the mountaineers, he had nearly forgotten why they were traveling in the first place. Suce and the wall of trees were incompatible, and it pushed Gennorina out of Camboaci.
Oerix passed his hand over the index, moving thin strands of mana inside the desk. The stones rumbled and the glyphs glowed with eerie lights.
Div watched, trying to catch every detail, every movement. He'd seen magic, likely some even more complex, in his Kehironite youth. But, back then, he hadn't appreciated how beautiful it could be. The Camboacian school revolved around spells and skills, not this kind of minute work.
"I will not tell you there is no solution to your problem," he started. "The ocean of possibilities is vast, endless perhaps. Yet, the answer to your question does not lie within these walls."
Gennorina let her head drop, disappointment apparent.
Div hadn't held out much hope. He shook his head.
Yet, a hand placed on the index, eyes closed, Oerix spoke. "Alley seven, third shelf on the right, second level from the bottom. A clay tablet titled Spirits of the Lien, unknown author."
"Thank you," Gennorina said.
Oerix opened his eyes. "Go, and do not touch anything else."
The young druid's footsteps echoed behind them as Oerix's gaze settled on Dana.
"Your turn," he said.
Dana took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, "Bloodlines. I need to know what a bloodline is."
A pause.
Oerix clicked his tongue. "This is a place of knowledge, not secrets. State your true purpose, and I shall answer."
"I just told you," Dana answered. Too fast. "I want to learn about bloodlines."
Oerix stared at her silently. His unsettling gaze said more than any number of words would. He traced his fingers on the index. Feeding mana into the line of the enchantment.
His mana was attuned, but Div couldn't tell to what element. It mixed with the mana stored in the enchantment. Three, no, four mana types intermingled together to search the index.
"Alley twelve, fifth shelf on the right, top level, Bloodline Metamorphosis by Argos Temephies. It's written in a slightly archaic form of Ameian, which I trust should be able to read without too much difficulty. The index has a note warning that the author is a bit long-winded, but look past that, and you will find what you seek."
Dana hesitated. "You know."
"This is my duty."
"Thank you, Oerix."
As she turned to leave, Div reached toward her. "Dana—"
"It's alright, Div," she said, without looking back. "I don't blame you. But I need to understand what's changing in me. I have to."
Div watched Dana leave to find her book. She wasn't wrong. He would have to ask her about her findings; it might be useful for him and En.
Then, he turned back around and faced the librarian.
"So, what is your question?"
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Div looked at the glowing glyphs on the desk. "How does the index work?"
Oerix smiled with his mouth, but his eyes stayed expressionless. "Are you sure? Is that truly what you wish to ask?"
"You can tell me," Div stated. "Then I'll ask something else."
For less than an instant, a rare glint appeared in the depths of the librarian's pupils, disappearing long before it could settle.
"Indeed, there is no restriction on the number of questions you can ask. There is only so much you can learn before exhausting yourself. But fine, I'll satisfy your curiosity."
Oerix passed his hand over the index, forming threads of mana.
"Stone, intuition, memory, and echo. Four attunements woven into an enchantment too complex for you to understand. Unless you have an Evolved Rank enchanting skill?"
Div shook his head. He didn't have any knowledge of enchantment, not to mention a skill.
"Then let me put it simply," Oerix continued, fingers trailing glowing threads of mana that shimmered like veins in the stone desk. "Stone gives the index permanence. It remembers the shape of knowledge, the weight of truth. Without it, nothing would stay anchored."
He flicked his hand, and a set of glyphs pulsed on the surface.
"Memory holds the content. Not just the titles, but the essence of what each book contains. It allows the index to search meaning—not merely words."
Div leaned forward, caught in the rhythm of the explanation.
"Intuition interprets your intent. You don't need the right phrasing. What you need is desire, want, a little something to nudge the index in the right direction."
Another flick, and faint echoes of light flashed around them, too brief and layered to grasp.
"Echo listens for repetition. Past queries. It builds on what others have sought before you, and, more importantly, what they found."
The librarian pulled his hand back, the light fading slowly.
"Where does this attuned mana come from?" Div asked. Stone, he could understand, in the underground library, this mana type was everywhere. But the other three were rare, ethereal, hard to grasp. Where did you even start if you wanted to find inspiration-attuned mana?
"Isn't it obvious?" Oerix asked, a momentary surprise breaking his usual mask. "This is Trabine."
"Uepi feathers…" Div whispered, remembering Ilmara and her echo magic.
Oerix nodded. "Even for rare attunements, there are methods and techniques to make it happen. But, those, I must apologize, are precisely the type of knowledge that is restricted by the elders."
"It's fine, I understand."
Div wasn't foolish enough to believe the elders of Trabine were ready to share the most important secrets of the village with him. Access to the library and protection against his old clan were already more than he had hoped for.
"Then, what do you truly seek?"
The answer was obvious.
"Rot magic."
"Very well," Oerix said, feeding mana into the enchantment. The index flared with light and glyphs. Then, with a flick of his hand, he stopped. The index returned to normal.
Oerix walked away. "Follow me."
Div did as he was told.
"Being a librarian is more than sorting paper and making sure the place stays clean," Oerix said, whipping the dust off a shelf with his finger as he walked by. "Mostly clean, anyway."
Div didn't answer, waiting for the man to continue.
"My most important task is to preserve the works that come under my care. See, magic is more profound than profanes would have you believe. Just writing about a magical truth is sometimes enough to produce a reaction."
Oerix took a set of keys attached to a ring out of his pocket and started fiddling with them.
"You would be ill-advised to write a fire magic thesis on paper. In fact, if you ever see one, discard it. It will burn in your hands, and if it doesn't, its content is nothing more than rubbish."
He settled on a particular key just as they stopped in front of a metallic door.
"Rot is no exception. It would be careless to store works about rot magic in a room with so much paper. Like asking for it to spear and ruin everything."
Oerix opened the door and invited Div to enter.
As he stepped inside, the room lit up, revealing a few shelves directly dug into the hill's stone. They were filled with tablets of various materials. Mostly clay and stone, but a few were made of metal and, for one tablet, he couldn't tell what it was made of.
"This is one of our rooms for unstable works. A few tablets speak of rot, others of other magics that are compatible with being stored together."
Oerix reached for a shelf and picked three clay tablets. "Monsters of Rot, a translated copy of Yemesh Agada's bestiary. Decay and Renewal, by Brisanta of Lepante. And, finally, The Death of Kamun, unknown author, translated from Ancient Hyepish. Note that the Ancient Hyepish text wasn't the original but another translation."
Div received the tablets, feeling their weight in his hands. They were heavy, even for his reinforced body. The text was compact.
"Tablets take up more space than books," Oerix explained, handing him a magnifying glass. "You wouldn't want to turn a single work into hundreds of tablets."
Div nodded. "Thank you."
"Do not take these out of this room," Oerix warned. "You can stay as long as you want. I suggest taking your time, you are free to come back later to finish your reading. I know these aren't exactly treatises on rot magic like you would find for more common forms of the arcane, but I hope it will help you."
It would be difficult to read everything in one go. Digest all the details and reflect on how he could use this new knowledge to further his understanding. Especially after a long day like this one. Div was already tired, and he didn't fancy finding his way back home in the dark. Not in a place he didn't know.
Furthermore, he needed to acquire bedding and food.
Still, the knowledge he craved was finally in his hands.
He had to start reading now.