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Of course it had. She was the thoughtful, worrisome type, wasn’t she? Yep. “What should we do?”

‘I don’t know,’ said Chergoa. ‘Doesn’t seem like there’s much that we can, except wait for the grumpy dragon to show up again and reverse whatever he’s done.’

Hmm. Ibai wondered if that was really true. Sure, it seemed like it was, but... hmm.

With all this knowledge around here, all this incredible power being hoarded by this sentient Library, there was almost certainly something that could be done.

It was just a matter of finding out how.

But of course, that would mean reading a lot of books. Like, a prohibitively silly amount of books. Which would probably take so long that, yeah, it would just be faster to wait for Gohvis to return, instead.

Plus, if there was, hypothetically, only one book within the entire Library that held the solution to Emiliana’s current predicament, then that meant it was quite possible he could spend the rest of his life reading books and still never find it. That was how many there were to go through, between all the different rooms.

Though, hopefully, there would be more than just one book that had the answer in it. Surely, there would be at least a handful of them, right?

Maybe.

Interesting to think about, nonetheless. Especially because he knew that there were still hidden areas within the Library that he had not yet been able to explore, areas that were probably being hidden--as in, purposely--by the Library itself.

He’d discussed this very subject with Emiliana a few times. She told him about how Gohvis had taken her through a hidden passageway in order to meet a funny squid-lady called the Weaver.

That story had actually piqued his curiosity so much that he decided to go on a quest to find and talk to her himself. He’d already been having plenty of fun exploring the Library without any particular goal in mind at all, so the notion that were extra-hidden secrets to be uncovered had only served to increase his motivation and enjoyment that much more.

And he hadn’t told anyone about this yet, but he’d actually succeeded in finding her.

Quite easily, as it so happened. She had apparently been able to figure out that he was looking for her and had therefore started talking to him telepathically in order to guide him directly to her.

‘What is it that you want from me?’ was the first thing she’d asked upon seeing him.

“Iunno!” he’d told her with a big shrug and a bigger smile.

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Ibai exhaled a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He stretched his arms and rolled his neck. Whew.

He’d lost track of time again, hadn’t he? Well, at least he wasn’t feeling so utterly famished that he could barely walk. He’d gotten an earful from Chergoa and Emiliana after that one.

But the book was done. His next gift for the Library. Impulsively, he wanted to hand it over right away, but then he thought that maybe he should wait until his proofreader returned so that he could put the extra-finishing touches on it.

Hmm. Tough call. Making him antsy.

Either way, it was time for a break, he supposed. And thinking about Chergoa and Emiliana just now had made him want to go check on the two of them.

Emiliana in particular.

She’d been in a peculiar state, recently. Just before leaving, Gohvis had taught her some type of new meditative technique, and now, the entire time he’d been away, she hadn’t budged from that same spot in the center of the Library’s main room, right next to Arkos’ Great Globe of Eleg.

Sure enough, when he arrived, she was still there, just the same as he’d last seen her. Yesterday? Two days ago? He wasn’t sure.

He’d frequently seen Chergoa hanging around her as well, and indeed, she was here this time, too.

‘Hey,’ said the reaper upon seeing him.

“Hiya.” With his new book under his arm, he approached the young woman both curiously and cautiously. It was weird. He didn’t want to disturb her training, but at the same time, it had been so long that it was hard not to worry about her condition. She was looking decidedly quite pale and slim. “Any change?” he asked.

‘None that I’ve been able to see,’ said Chergoa. ‘Apart from the obvious.’

The obvious being her weight and complexion, Ibai knew. “Wow. It’s been over a week now, hasn’t it?”

‘Going on two, actually.’

Really? Huh. “And you still can’t rouse her out of it?”

‘Sure can’t,’ said Chergoa with a sigh.

“Hmm. Do you think...? Um.” He was hesitant to utter his next question, despite having thought it several times already, but it seemed to him that they were reaching a point where they shouldn’t ignore the possibility. “Do you think, perhaps, that this isn’t actually a form of training, like Gohvis said?”

‘The thought has crossed my mind, yes.’

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Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-One: ‘Thy primordial glimmer...’
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Man, the Library sure felt quiet, lately.

Well. Quieter, he supposed. It wasn’t like it had ever been particularly noisy to begin with it. At least, not in the conventional sense.

But there was definitely something different about it now, Ibai Blackburn thought. And it probably had to do with Gohvis, the Keeper of the Library, not being here for the first time that Ibai had seen.

He’d been trying to figure out the exact nature of the difference ever since Gohvis left, but it was difficult. What was a giant, sentient Library supposed to feel like, anyway?

Maybe it was apprehensive without its master around to protect it? Or maybe it was actually feeling uncertainty with the bit of freedom that it now had? Gohvis certainly had an oppressive presence when he was around, though most of his mutant followers didn’t seem to feel that way.

Gohvis had taken several of them with him, Ibai noticed, so that doubtless contributed to the quietude, as well. The refectory was emptier, as were the recreational rooms.

But it was really all the book rooms that made Ibai so curious.

So his current objective with his writing was to hopefully, somehow, gain some sort of clue about the curious puzzle that was this ancient Library of Erudition.

He’d been trying for a while now, writing original stories so that he might gift them to the Library and thereby gain its affection, and his first work had been a rip-roaring success.

Probably.

Okay, yeah, it was a little hard to tell if the Library had actually been pleased or not, but it definitely felt less hostile towards him, he thought. Why, just the other day, when he took a book off the shelf and started walking away with it, the Library waited nearly ten whole seconds before trying to kill him with a serpentine stream of ardor-infused, razor-sharp papers.

A few months ago, it would’ve only been five seconds. Progress!

So with this current story that he was writing, he was thinking that perhaps the narrative should in some way be related to his objective with the Library. Metaphorically, that was.

He’d decided to make it about two guys who were struggling to get to know and trust each other during a period of civil unrest under a despotic regime, where trusting one another carried even more risk than usual.

And he was just. About. Done. Putting the finishing touches on it.

Yeah.

In the end, true friendship won the day. The two men became lifelong buddies and took down the evil dictator oppressing the land.

Perfect.