The Zombie Knight

The battle was a foregone conclusion. Abolish and the VMP’s forces were holding out for now, but it was only a matter of time. From this high vantage point among the rocky hills northeast of Ridgemark, Zeff Elroy could see most of the battlefield.

The allied Rainlord forces had managed to flank the enemy fairly well, though the geography of the area still left a rather clear route for them to retreat, whenever they decided to do so.

Perhaps the Rainlords could have done more to prevent that, to circle around and cut them off completely, but time had been a factor.

And of course, there was also the ancient consideration of honor on the battlefield. While Abolish may not have deserved it, the many thousands of non-servants within the VMP’s army did.

“Huh,” mused Ibai, a smile reforming on his lips again. “Sounds like an interesting person to talk to!”

The Weaver tittered another time. ‘You think so, do you? I do not know if I would agree, but I can at least say with confidence that I would enjoy listening to YOU speak to her.’

“Meeting new people is always fun,” he said.

‘I shan’t try to rain on your parade. As for Ettol, I assume you are also curious about him?’

“Of course! What’s his deal? God of Deceit, right? That doesn’t sound very flattering.”

‘The young man does so, and over the course of his journey, the lad is cursed by a witch and turned into a cotton-eating weevil. The “riches” he earns are a field of cotton, so that he will never again go hungry. The “glory” he earns is that he becomes king of his fellow weevils. And the “power” he earns is immortality, which Ettol grants to him directly after appearing before him again and explaining the previous two “rewards.”’

Ibai’s smile diminished as he continued to listen with widening eyes.

‘In another story, however, Ettol appears in the dreams of a young woman who has a vile and cruel mother. He lays out a plan for her to take up a knife while the woman is out gathering wood for a fire, then plunge it into her heart after she falls asleep. But when the girl refuses, Ettol changes her mother’s heart, filling it with love and kindness for her daughter so that the two may live happily thereafter.’

“I see...”

‘But those are just the stories where he plays the part of a trickster god. He frequently appears in the stories of other gods, albeit stealthily so. You may read one story about Lhutwë, for example, wherein a sea serpent is featured prominently and Ettol is never mentioned. But then you may find out in an entirely different story that Ettol was that sea serpent all along and that he was either helping Lhutwë or throwing a wrench into the Water God’s scheme by aiding the involved humans. That is the type of god he is.’

‘And that’s just the tip of the iceberg, frankly. There are many, many terrible stories of Hada being absolutely horrible. I’m surprised you aren’t more familiar with them.’

Truthfully, he was. He just hadn’t wanted to jump to conclusions. Just because Hada might’ve been a big ol’ jerk a hundred times in a row didn’t mean he couldn’t still be a nice guy on that hundred and first time, right?

Ibai made the rare decision of keep that thought to himself. He had a rather strong feeling that the Weaver either wouldn’t understand or would try to argue with him. Or maybe both.

And they’d already gotten sidetracked quite a bit.

“Welp. Alright, then. So who were these three other gods that the Library was dedicated to?”

‘Makirë, Ettol, and Xixa.’

He had to pause and think about those, trying to recall anything he might have ever read about them. “Xixa... is the Goddess of Secrets, yes?”

‘That’s right. If one were to believe in her, then it’d be reasonable to think that she would make great use of a place like this.’

“Yeah. All the more reason to think that there are plenty of juicy secrets here, waiting to be uncovered.”

‘True enough. But Xixa was also known as the Goddess of Darkness and the Goddess of Beauty. So if you’re trying to read something into her supposed involvement, then perhaps you should take those monikers into account, too.’

“Hmm. ‘Kay. What about the other two, though? I’m not as familiar with them. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of them, even.”

‘No? Perhaps that is not surprising. They are both rather odd and mysterious figures. Makirë was known as the Goddess of Wonder, Youth, and the Stars. Ettol was known as the God of Impulse, Deceit, and Rebirth. The stories about them are always quite strange.’

“How so?”

‘Well, Makirë, for instance, is frequently depicted as an elderly woman with a very childish demeanor. She is regularly abrasive and even cruel--much how children can be. But her tales often involve helping people come to terms with some horrific truth--and then providing some manner of comfort or aid. I remember one story in which she appears before a man who is terminally ill. She makes him relive many important moments in his life, showing him his own ugliness and mistreatment of others, chastising him ruthlessly and tormenting him psychologically with impossible hypothetical quandaries. And yet in the end, she accepts his apologies, restores him to youthful vigor, and then takes him with her to visit a new world among the stars.’

“Huh,” said Ibai. “Makes me wonder what people made by such an angry guy would’ve been like.”

‘That’s a key part of the tale,’ she said. ‘As the story goes, they took after him. TOO much so, in fact. Rather than worshiping him, they hated and cursed him at every opportunity. Never built a single temple in his honor, apparently.’

Ibai bit his lip, holding in a laugh. “Yikes.”

‘They had a long and storied history of rebelling against their creator--trying to slay him, even. Until eventually, Hada grew fed up with them and began brewing the Dáinnbolg as a form of final punishment.’

“Ah. Hmm.”

‘But his people, just like him, were far too stubborn to roll over and die. So they set to work building as many new things as they could, trying to counter Hada’s unending wrath with invincible structures.’

“Oh! So the Library was one of those, then?”

‘Yes. But even among those exceptional structures, the Library was still quite special, because not only was it built as a form of rebellion against Hada, but it was also built in dedication to three other gods.’

“Say what?”

‘I already told you that many people came together to build this place, right?’

“Yeah-huh?”

‘Well, some of them were worshipers of other gods. And the “anti-worshipers” of Hada apparently didn’t mind.’

“Ooh.” He sucked some air in through his teeth. “Ouch. That’s gotta sting, if you’re Hada, right? Not only are your own people turning against you. They’re also going to your relatives? And your relatives aren’t saying no, either? Dang, dude.”

‘Quite. So you can see how this tale might have done little to soothe Hada’s hatred of us.’

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t make him hate us even more. I kinda feel bad for the guy, honestly.”

‘Well, I wouldn’t expend too much empathy on him, if I were you. I don’t think I’ve ever read or heard a single nice thing about Hada. In fact, if he is or ever was real, then I would argue that he was the single most colossal bastard to have ever existed.’

“Really? That’s pretty harsh.”

‘Know what the first cause was for his hatred of humanity? The thing that got the ball rolling?’

“No, what?”

‘He wanted to eat us. And when we fought back, he didn’t like it. And from there, the hatred just built and built.’

“Huh...”

‘Still empathizing with him?’

“Well, I mean, that’s just one example of a bad thing. And first impressions can be really awkward and unfortunate, y’know? Maybe later on, he could’ve--”

‘He had a preference for devouring children.’

Ibai’s face scrunched up.

‘...Are you alright?’ said the Weaver. ‘You look like you’re in pain.’

He barely even heard her and certainly couldn’t afford to formulate a response. He was busy. Thinking.

Because there was definitely something there. Something deep in his head.

Where? Exactly? Was it?

Something he’d read, maybe? Yeah...

In ancient times, places like this were even more difficult to build than they were today. Frequently, but not always, they were the work of brilliant servants--or brilliant architects who employed servants. Exceptions existed all around the world, grand buildings that had been the product of pure, normal human labor--such as the Great Cocoran Cathedral of Trenoy.

Yes. That was the ticket. Servants were not always part of the construction, but something else was. Every single time. The common denominator between the constructions of all these super-ancient structures.

They’d been built for the gods.

That was, perhaps, the greatest difference between the ancient world and modern day, Ibai thought. People back then revered the gods with an almost unfathomable passion, compared to today.

So this place must have been no different.

“...Which god was the Library of Erudia built in dedication to?” was what came out of his mouth.

‘Oh, that’s a tough question, but as it so happens, I do know the answer to it.’

“Cool!”

‘As with most things regarding the Library, it is a complicated matter. But first, are you already aware of the Dáinnbolg’s relevance to your question?’

He blinked. The Eternal Storm? The thing blanketing all of Exoltha and causing it to be the so-called ‘dead continent?’ His curiosity had just doubled at the mere mention of it. “No. What does that have to do with this?”

‘Supposedly, the Dáinnbolg is the long-lingering work of Hada, the God of Storms and Wrath. Otherwise known as He Who Hates All Humanity.’

“Oh! Wow, really? That would make a lot of sense!”

‘Supposedly, I said. There’s no way to know for sure. In fact, perhaps Hada was merely blamed for it because of how sensible the idea SEEMED.’

“Ah. Hmm. That’d be a real bummer for him, eh?”

‘Regardless, the story goes that Hada was once the caretaker of Exoltha--and also the progenitor of its inhabitants.’

“Wait, really? He created people? Despite famously wanting all of us dead?”

‘Yes, it is a contradiction. Perhaps this story is false. Or perhaps this occurred before his hatred grew to be so strong. Or perhaps it is WHY it grew so strong. If only we could find him and ask him for clarification personally. Preferably without being instantly obliterated.’

‘You read about it?’ said the Weaver. ‘When?’

He paused for a shrug. “A couple weeks ago, maybe? Can’t remember which book. There’ve been lots.”

‘Hmm. Unfortuanate. If you could find that book again, I would be interested in reading it myself.’

“Oh, okay! Sure, I’ll definitely find it for you! Wow! I kinda figured that you’d already read all the books here ‘r something.”

‘That would be an impossible feat, surely.’

“Guess so, huh? Especially with some of ‘em being hidden ‘n all.”

‘Indeed.’

“But wait a tick. Where did you learn about the history of the Library, then? Not from one of the books here?”

‘No, I...’

Ibai waited for her to finish, but it seemed like she wasn’t going to. “You keep trying to convince me you’re not super old, but if you didn’t read about it in a book, then are you sure you don’t just remember the history?”

‘It is a personal matter.’

“Yeah, that makes sense. Remembering stuff if very personal.”

‘No, I mean--ugh. You know what, you silly aberration? Fine. You’ve worn me down. If you must know the truth, I did read about it in a book, just not one from the Library of Erudition.’

“Ooooh. So you’re like a huge nerd, then! Always visiting libraries and stuff!” And he laughed.

For some reason, she made no response.

“Oh, but I don’t mean that in like a bad way or anything! I think I’m pretty nerdy myself. So we’re like kindred spirits, is what I’m saying!”

‘Uh... huh.’

“Anyway, you were saying? About the Library being built and protected by loads of cool and heroic people?”

‘I’d finished my point, more or less. Unless there was something specific you wished to ask about.’

“Hmm-hmm. Um. Lemme see.” Dang, this was a tough one.

He tried to focus. Which was not something that he attempted to do very often. Usually, he preferred to just let his mind go wherever it wanted. What was the point in trying to force his thoughts in a particular direction? Where was the fun? Where was the freedom?

But this was important. If he could just figure out a way to find the Library’s secret stash of super cool books, then maybe he could figure out a way to help Emiliana.

So he decided not to just try. He decided to really try.

What questions could he ask the Weaver that might reveal some type of hidden clue?

“Hmmmmmmmmmm...”

‘You test my patience yet again. I assure you that I was entirely thorough. There must be some strange mechanism by which the Library can conceal its pathways. To my mind, the most likely reason is that it is able to shift walls and hallways or even entire rooms as it pleases.’

“Yeah, that sounds like something that this cheeky building might do.”

‘But that is only my guess. I fear there may be yet more to it. Some other component that I am unable to even imagine.’

Ibai stuck on that notion for a moment, rubbing his chin as he thought about it. “Some other component, huh? Interesting...”

‘Might you have some idea?’

“Oh, it’s too soon to say anything about that. Wild speculation can come later!”

‘That’s not really what I was getting at.’

“Do you know who built the Library of Erudia?”

‘Ah. Now that is a complicated subject. This place is as ancient as they come. ‘Tis a remnant of the many lost civilizations that once called Exoltha home.’

“Many? Not just one?”

‘Oh yes. It was a long-continued project, spanning generations and bringing together cultural figureheads from across this continent. Kings and queens, prophets and apostles, akhunds and mobads. Many were brought together in the shared pursuit of the preservation of knowledge.’

“Mm! That was a really big deal back in those days, wasn’t it? Because they’d had so much trouble with heretical book burnings and whatnot, right?”

‘Oh, indeed. You’re familiar with the history?’

“A tad.”

‘Yes, wars were fought over these matters. It was certainly no coincidence that brought all of these learned men together. Many would have needed little or no convincing about the importance of the undertaking, having personally witnessed barbaric hordes descending upon their beloved institutions of learning.’

Ibai just nodded along silently.

‘As for who, precisely, began the long venture of trying to build the Library: I believe that information has been lost to time. Too many others came to be involved in its creation over such a long period of time. And there are quite a number of fantastic tales surrounding the various stages of its construction, too. It may be an impervious fortress now, but that is only because many brave people sacrificed everything in order to protect it while it was still vulnerable.’

“I read a bit about that, not long ago,” said Ibai. “There were something like forty sieges on this place before it was finished.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I’ll stop calling you old. I can see how sensitive you are about the subject, which tells me that you might, for some reason, be lying to me about it, but I suppose that’s neither here nor there. Let me ask something--”

‘I’m not lying! I’m still young, damn you!’

Dang. He’d just been teasing her, but with all her protestations, now he was genuinely starting to believe that she was hundreds or even thousands of years old, somehow.

His big, toothy smile probably wouldn’t have helped her mood very much, but thankfully, the room was too dark for her to see it.

‘And wipe that shit-eating grin off your stupid face.’

Oh. Well, nevermind.

“Anywho! Next question! You’re doing great so far, by the way! Very cooperative!”

She just returned a psychic grumble.

“Do you know of any other secret passageways, like the one that leads to this room here?”

‘Sure. There’s one that leads to an underground garden on the lower levels. And one to a bathing chamber, where certain historical figures were known to get up to all sorts of naughty hijinks.’

“Ooooh.”

‘If you visit that second one, however, then I would take great caution, were I you. The waters there have been neglected and stagnant for eons. It would not surprise me if they are rancid or even toxic.’

“Ewwww. But neat! Any other cool spots to know about? Like, say, a secret inner sanctum full of secret, inner-sanctum-y reading materials?”

‘Oh, of course.’

“Really?!”

‘No! I already told that I don’t know how to reach such areas! I would have directed you to them straight away if I did.’

“Ah.”

‘You think I would’ve forgotten about something so important?’

“Well. I mean. I didn’t want to bring up your age again, but...”

‘I will turn your insufferable little mind into a Jesbolese knot if you keep this up.’

“Mmmmm. So what made you come to believe that the Library hides stuff from us, then? Was there a particular place that you’ve tried to find but just couldn’t?”

‘If you’re asking whether or not I’ve ever personally searched for this “inner sanctum” as you called it, then yes, I have. And to no avail, obviously.’

“And yet you’re still convinced that it exists?”

‘The Master has mentioned it. I believe he knows how to reach it. And others, most likely.’

“Makes sense, I guess. Where did you search, exactly?”

‘Everywhere. Every floor. Behind every wall. Beyond every brick. Between every nook and cranny.’

“Sounds a little exaggerated...”

‘I have no desire to curry favor with a building,’ said the Weaver.

“Why not? What do you have against buildings?”

‘Enough silliness. If you are so determined to befriend the Library, then you will find no help from me.’

“Really? Not even a little bit?”

‘I do not know anything that would be of use to you.’

“Are you sure? What if you just don’t know that you know? They call those kinds of things unknown unknowns. Y’know?”

‘If that is so, then I would still have no way of detecting and then imparting said knowledge to you.’

“Unless I ask you the right questions! Triggering your deeply rooted, ancient wisdom!”

‘I’m not THAT old, I’ll have you know.’

“And yet you’re still so full of ancient wisdom! It’s all the more impressive when you look at it like that!”

‘Flattery is pointless and beneath you.’

“It’s not flattery if I’m just speaking the truth, is it?”

‘Yes, it still is. The intent is what matters.’

“Huh. Well, my intentions are entirely pure, so I’m pretty sure that I’m covered there, too.” And before she could give another sidetracking retort, he decided to push the conversation forward. “Anyway! Question time! It’ll be a fun game! You like games, don’t you? I sure do!”

‘Is that the first question? Because yes, I do happen to enjoy a good game, now and again.’

“Perfect! What a great start!”

‘Go on, then. See if you can uncover something within my mind that even I have forgotten about.’

“Okay! Hmm! Let’s see here... Now what would be a good subject to begin with...?”

‘You have no idea? After all that bluster, I thought you had some sort of plan, but you really are just winging it, aren’t you?’

“Oh, I know! The first time you arrived at the Library! How’d you come to be here, exactly?”

‘Is this game just an excuse to ask me personal questions?’

“No! Of course not! Maybe a little!”

That earned a silent titter from her. ‘I was brought here by the Master, of course. He wanted to provide a place for me to rest and recover after... a particularly trying ordeal.’

“Oh? Mysterious. What was the nature of this ordeal, hmm?”

‘Let’s keep these questions relevant to the Library itself, shall we?’

“Aww. But okay. In that case, how long ago was it that you arrived here?”

‘Decades, as I already said.’

“Yeah, but how many decades, exactly?”

‘Many.’

“So like seven?”

‘I’m not that old!’

“Alright, but then stop saying things that make me think you are!”

‘Look, the truth is, I do not quite recall how long it has been. Time... is a rather loose concept for me. I do not feel its passing as I once did.’

“...Sounds like something a really old person would say.”

‘Oh, shut up!’

“Am I?” said Ibai. “I apologize. Much like you should!”

‘You are getting sidetracked. Weren’t you saying that you had something important to do?’

“I did say that, yes! You’re a good listener!”

‘I presume it has to do with the Elroy girl’s current circumstances.’

“You’re good at presuming, too!”

‘You think the Library can help her?’

“That’s the hope. Dunno how plausible it is, though.”

‘Not at all, I’d wager.’

“Hmm? You just said it was possible, though, didn’t you?”

‘No. Winning its favor may be possible. Unlikely, perhaps, but possible. But acquiring its help for the girl? That is a different matter, unfortunately. ‘Tis is a fool’s errand, I’m afraid.’

“Dang. Why you gotta be such a downer about it, though?”

‘You told me of her current state before, remember? If the Master was truly the one to put her into that trance, then the Library will not help. He is its Keeper, and it will not go against him.’

“Yeah, but what if I ask it really nicely?”

‘Your jests belie your desperation. And while I sympathize with your plight, I think you would be better off not wasting your time on it. The Master has obviously taken an interest in her and will therefore not abandon her. Sooner or later, he will return and revive her, and given that she is undead, it does not matter how delayed his return might be. She will be fine, regardless.’

“All fair points,” said Ibai. “But I also can’t help thinking that maybe you’re overestimating how much the Library cares about Gohvis’ opinion. Didn’t you just get done saying how capricious it is? Even if he is its Keeper, does that really matter?”

‘I have never once seen it move against him.’

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Plus, it wouldn’t even be going against him by aiding me. That’s a false dichotomy! It’s not like we’re sworn enemies or anything! I think Gohvis is a swell guy! Reads my books, you know! Very thoughtful, him!”

‘Uh-huh... Nothing I say will convince you to give up, will it?’

“Prolly not. I like to think I’m open to having my mind changed, but sometimes, you’ve just gotta stand firm, don’t you think?”

‘Clearly, what I think doesn’t matter.’

“Aw, don’t be like that! Hey, what say I put in a good word for you once I’ve won the Library over, eh? Maybe help repair some of the bad blood between the two of you? Because there’s bad blood, right? I’m definitely sensing some bad blood.”

“Hmmmmm.” Ibai had to mull that notion over. “Well, now I’m torn, because that sounds like a fun puzzle to solve. Going against the Library? Unlocking its secrets despite its best efforts hide them? What a great game!” He bobbed his head to one side. “But on the other hand, might it actually be more fun to try and earn the Library’s trust? I mean, I’ve been working that angle for a while already, so it would probably be faster to simply continue on like so, eh?”

‘Not merely faster, but also possible. As I said, if it doesn’t want you to find something, then you have no hope of finding it. The Library will forever conceal it from you.’

“Oh, quit that! Don’t try and tempt me now! It won’t work!”

‘I am not trying to tempt you. I am merely warning that--’

“It won’t work, I said!” And he broke for a short laugh. “If this were just matter of my own academic interest and desire to have a boatload of fun, then sure, you’d have tricked me down that first path like the super smart squid lady that you are--and I’d have been pleased as punch about it, too! But unfortunately, there’s more at stake here than just that. Can’t justify taking that kind of risk.”

‘Again, I was not trying to trick you--’

“My heart shan’t waver! Don’t worry about it! Though I may long for a puzzle to solve, I must stay the clearer course!”

‘Alright, whatever.’

“Might you have any tips about how to get on the Library’s good side?”

‘None whatsoever.’

“Aww, shucks, really?”

‘The Library is a capricious, ravenous, amoral monstrosity. I do not think it has the capacity to trust or love you or anyone else, even in the most minor of ways.’

Ibai pressed his lips together flatly. “Pretty harsh, bro.”

‘Do not call me that.’

“Sis?”

‘Nor that.’

“Sibling? Oh, or?! Squidbling?!”

‘Ugh, what the--?’

“Look, you can’t be sayin’ stuff like that about the Library and still expect it to fall in love with you. I’m sure it can hear you. And words hurt, you know.”

‘What nonsense are you talking now?’

“In fact, you should probably apologize.”

‘For what? I merely spoke the truth.’

“Mmmmm, I dunno...”

‘Of course you do not know. You know nothing of this place, while I have been here for decades.’

“Okay, but even if what you said was true--or partially true, maybe--I’m sure there was still a nicer way you could have phrased it, right?”

‘You are beginning to annoy me.’

After that, their conversation had drifted to other subjects as the Weaver began asking various questions about Ibai himself, inquiring into his personal history. She even demonstrated an interest in House Blackburn as a whole.

He hadn’t provided her all of the answers that she wanted, however. As much as he enjoyed getting to meet her for the first time, he decided to play things more mischievously. When it came down to it, he didn’t know if he should trust her with information about his family.

Plus, it was more fun this way. He could tease her with his answers and maybe even coax a few out of her, in exchange. She was quite the curious creature, after all. He wanted to know more about her personal history, too.

She hadn’t been forthcoming at all, though, and so that first encounter had ended with the two of them having not made much progress with one another.

But that was okay. It just gave him more reason to go and talk to her again. If they were going to build trust, then it would take time.

And heck, even if she never told him anything else about herself, she was still a wellspring of information about all manner of other subjects.

Such as the Library.

Which was why he decided to go and visit her again. He’d already asked her about Emiliana’s meditative trance once before, and the Weaver had told him that she didn't know anything about it, but this time, Ibai intended to take a different approach.

Luckily, he’d already memorized the path back to her.

‘Hello again,’ she said.

“Hi,” he said with his usual cheer, but he also decided to not waste time and just jump straight into his question. “Do you know of any other hidden areas within the Library? And I mean areas where, like, the extra special books are stored.”

‘Ah. Well, the answer to that is more complicated than you might expect.’

“How so?”

‘Do I know of such areas? Yes, I do. Do I know how you can reach them? Maybe.’

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tease me about this, too! This is more important than just simple curiosity on my part!”

‘Alas, I am not teasing you. Rather, I genuinely am not sure if I can help you or not.’

“Oh.”

‘You’re aware that the Library has a will of its own, yes?’

“Yeah-huh?”

‘Then perhaps it will come as no surprise to you that if the Library does not wish for you to find something, then you will not find it.’

“Ah, hmm! That IS an interesting question, isn’t it?! Perhaps in instances like that, the negativity has a hidden element of positivity inside it! Which is the real source of the fun!”

‘How convenient for your argument.’

“Admittedly, I feel a little out of my depth on that one. While I’ve read about those types of feelings, I don’t know if I’ve ever actually experienced that sort of thing, myself. But it does fascinate me! I mean, when you think about it, you’re turning something bad into something good! Isn’t that cool?!”

‘I don’t know if that’s the best way of looking at it.’

“Mm? Why not?”

‘Because a “feeling” of positivity stemming from a negative source is not necessarily a good thing. In fact, it might be quite a terrible thing. For example, the feeling that a bully gets when victimizing someone. The sense of power and control, I mean. That may feel good for the bully, temporarily, but is it a good thing overall? I think not.’

Ibai nodded along. “Fair enough, fair enough. But we’ve also shifted points a bit here, I think. What you’re talking about is someone feeling good from doing a bad thing. What I was talking about was someone feeling good from also feeling bad. Like, say, when you feel really sad about something but then start to feel weirdly kinda good about it, too. Maybe in a self-pitying sense. Which, okay, sure, isn’t necessarily the best thing, either, but... hmm...”

‘I see. I can agree that wallowing in one’s own misery can have a strangely comforting sensation to it. That may even be the driving force behind why it can be difficult to pull oneself out of such states. Because on some level, it feels good to remain there.’

“Yeah!”

‘In which case, your thesis about positivity being good is proven wrong.’

“Oh.” A beat passed. “Whoa, hey, wait a minute. I didn’t say positivity is always good. I said it’s fun!”

‘Oh? Then are you declaring that fun is not always good?’

He was tempted to say yes immediately, but he took a moment to mull it over a bit more, first. Then he nodded again. “Yeah, I think so. Lots of fun things can end up being quite bad in various ways, right?”

For a time, the Weaver said nothing. She merely stared at him from her shadowy corner of the room.

Or at least, that was what it felt like she was doing. It was a little hard to tell if she even had eyeballs with which to stare.

‘I fail to see a difference,’ said the Weaver. ‘Whether you find something fun or I find it fun is irrelevant, because the question already concerns only what is relative to us, individually. What the “pleasurable activity” actually entails is immaterial, so long as it is established as being both fun and meaningless. One’s mindset would not change that.’

“No, but that’s what I’m getting at,” said Ibai. “The ‘meaninglessness’ of an activity is not something that can be established. In fact, I think I can make a rather strong argument that fun, in itself, might very well create meaning. All on its own.”

‘Go on, then. Make your strong argument.’

He giggled. “Okay, well, uh! Here goes! Hmm!” He took a few moments to gather his thoughts and figure out where to be begin. “So if the hypothesis here is that ‘fun generates meaning,’ then we should first establish what constitutes fun and what constitutes meaning. In which case, I put forth the definition that ‘fun,’ ultimately, is a sense of positivity that occurs in the brain as a direct result of observing or participating in an activity.”

‘Stop there. I see your game. That definition is too broad. It can apply to plenty of situations which cannot reasonably be considered fun.’

“Mm, you think so?”

‘Yes. A “sense of positivity” is far too vague. By that definition, you could declare any fleeting sense of “hope” that one ever feels in the midst of a terrible circumstance to also be “fun,” as well.’

“Yeah-huh? And what’s wrong with that?”

‘You cannot seriously claim that you are suddenly “having fun” when surrounded on all sides by misery, just because a brief period of “positivity” comes over you.’

“Sure I can! Just because it may only exist in a trace amount doesn’t mean it’s not there!” He bobbed his head. “But I will acknowledge that, sure, it might be inappropriate to describe the overall situation as a fun one. For that to occur, I think you’d have to pass beyond some sort of critical threshold for fun. Where the positivity overwhelms the negativity long enough to cement itself in the mind.”

‘But positivity could apply to any number of other feelings.’

“And I’m saying that fun is a component of all of those feelings, too. Because positivity is fun!”

‘Mmhmm. But what of negativity, then? Is that not sometimes fun, in its own way?’

‘You are a curious creature, aren’t you?’ she’d said.

“Is that a compliment? Because it sounds like a compliment! If so, then thank you!”

‘It is, yes. But you know what they say about curiosity, don’t you?’

“That it’s the foundation for all human advancement?”

At that, the Weaver tittered. ‘Why are you aberrations all so amusing? Is it somehow baked into your very nature?’

“Ooh, so you’ve met other aberrations, huh?”

‘Indeed. Though, typically, I look upon them from afar. Meetings are not my strong suit, after all.’

“Well, I’m glad you’re making an exception for me, then. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Weaver.”

‘The pleasure is mine. I must say, however, that you are far more polite and personable than most aberrations. In fact, now that I am thinking more deeply about it, I find it quite strange how you are not entirely bored out of your skull while stuck within the confines of the Library.’

“Why would I be bored? There’s so much to do here! So much to learn!”

‘Is that so? I was under the impression that aberrations did not find reading to be very fun. And fun is the only thing that you care about, is it not?’

Ibai scratched his chin. “Well, I wouldn’t say the only thing, but... yeah, maybe, sorta. Fun is what makes life worth living, isn’t it?”

‘Now there is a question for the ages. I do not know if I can agree, however. I think there must surely be more meaning in life than indulging in pleasurable activity.’

“Oh, of course, of course! But the ‘meaning’ of life is a slightly different matter, I’d say.”

‘Would you? I would not. On the subject of what makes life “worth living,” I would say that “meaning” is what matters most of all. If your life consists of nothing but meaningless amusements, then would that not begin to ring hollow after a while? Would you not be deprived of a greater, deeper sense of fulfillment?’

Ibai crossed his arms and smiled, having to chew on that a little. He decided to take a seat on the cold floor, as well. It was a bit wet and sticky, but he didn’t mind. “Those are all fair points,” he said. “But I’d also argue that without fun, life would surely become a slog. A rote, tiresome experience devoid of any spark or magic. Moreover, I think that it’s wrong to reduce fun down to this idea of ‘pleasurable activity.’ Because fun is also dependent on one’s mindset, no? What I find fun might be quite different from what you find fun, eh?”

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.

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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