Library System Reset: Overdue: A Magical Library LitRPG Adventure, page 32
She felt it was a little anticlimactic to get such a chunk of books back and have barely any energy register on the scale of the Library. Everything felt insurmountable right now. But at least the numbers were going down, which made it quantifiable. It helped to keep it all together if she had something tangible she could reference.
Lynx squeezed her shoulder once more and then spoke softly. "Hey, you need to practice your skills and, well, we need to start thinking about what other skills you need to absorb. Also, and I think this is the most important, maybe it's time you went and had a nap," Lynx suggested.
Quinn looked up at him. "Why, do I look tired?"
Lynx scowled at her and continued, "Look at your energy levels?"
Quinn looked down. She had two hundred of five hundred and eighty-three. "Oh, does checking the books currently pull energy from me?"
Lynx frowned. "It's not technically supposed to. At least when the Library is up and running fully. But, like I said, I haven't been in quite this position before. The Library has never been this bereft of books being rechecked for so long, nor has it ever been this empty of power, so I guess every previous experience I have doesn't count."
"It's okay, Lynx, you don't have to be perfect. You're not a god," she quipped, even if it fell a little flat.
He scowled at her. "No, I'm not a god. Would be nice. But we don’t need to get into how I feel about gods."
Quinn watched him and his reaction to that statement. Little pieces of the Lynx puzzle were falling into place. She had a feeling there was something there that she didn't quite understand yet. About who the Library was, and by extension, who Lynx was. Neither of those things had anything to do with how the Library operated.
But with enough time she'd get there, she knew it.
"You know, I think you're right. I'm gonna go upstairs and have a sleep.”
Lynx cut her off before she could finish. "It's well earned, Quinn. I know I pulled you here without any information. The download failed, the worms went crazy. You had to go retrieve books from extremely unfriendly places, almost got killed by a raging psychopath, and have had to clean up the Library, learn how to defend yourself, and adapt to an entirely new world. I get it. It's tough." He sounded so genuine, like he really meant it, and she had to believe that he did. “Thank you."
"Hey, it's okay. I mean, it is. It really is." And Quinn was surprised at how perfectly fine it actually felt. "Don't get me wrong, if I didn't know here, I wouldn't miss it. But I didn't have that much to look forward to back in my world. Could I have built a life for myself? Sure. But this? I think this is going to be a lot more interesting."
She paused. "Which is why I'm going to go and check out the book hospital before I sleep!"
And with that, she patted Lynx on his mostly solid shoulder, ignored Malakai completely, and sprinted off toward where the blueprints said the hospital was.
36
BOOK INFIRMARY
Quinn hadn't been entirely sure what to expect from a book hospital. She'd imagined a large room filled with broken books and perhaps a huge table for repairs. However, as she stepped through to the space nestled between the infirmary and the kitchen, she realized she'd been vastly mistaken.
The very first thing she noticed was Narilin standing behind a massive table. But it wasn't just a table; it had sections cut into it where paper was draped over bars in huge sheets. Reams of paper were attached to one end, ready to be pulled across the table. Cutting implements hung over the same section, attached to the ceiling. She assumed were used to cut the paper into tome-sized pages in an automated sort of way. It was a very Industrial Revolution-esque setup.
It reminded her of the days of the huge Heidelberg printing presses.
Over to the lefthand side were piles and piles of books. So many that it made her feel a little queasy. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of books piled up there, and she could see just how damaged some of them were. Would it even be possible to repair those?
Narilin looked up. "Oh, hello. Have you not been to the workshop before?" she asked, in her lilting, breezy, beautifully naturalistic way.
"No, I've been a little bit busy," Quinn said and gestured vaguely with her hands, "getting used to everything else around here."
Narilin laughed, a sound like leaves fluttering on a breeze. It filled the room with a beautiful, calm sensation. Quinn could see herself seeking out Narilin's company on a fairly regular basis, especially as she kept getting worked up about some of the stuff in the Library.
"Would you like me to show you around?" Narilin asked.
Quinn shook her head. "I didn't want to come and interrupt you or anything."
Narilin glanced around and spread her many-fingered hands out, gesturing to the room in general. "As you can see, I have a lot of work ahead of me. I don't think a small interruption from the Librarian is going to make that any different."
Quinn would have chuckled, but it didn't seem the right sort of place to do that. The room felt sad to her like the Library was hemorrhaging knowledge, like it was traumatized by how many books had been damaged.
Like maybe, if she closed her eyes and listened really hard, she could hear it weeping.
"Do you think you can really fix all of these?" Quinn asked hopefully.
Narilin looked around again and gave a half-shrug, which rippled her leafy hair. "I cannot say with precision. I should be able to help the majority of these books, but it may be that some must be repaired in such a way that they are recreated instead of pieced together."
Quinn sorted that out in her head. "Okay, and do we have the things for that?"
Narilin shook her head. "I doubt we have all of them, or even enough at this point, but by the time I know what books will need to be recreated or restored, I will definitely have some, if not all, of the equipment I require."
"Okay," Quinn said, glancing around again at the massive room. "There's room for people to help you, yes?"
Narilin nodded emphatically. "Yes, indeed. I would welcome help from qualified individuals," she said.
Quinn got the direct impression that she meant others of the Salosier species, people that Narilin could trust to take the correct care of the books that were injured.
"Well, we'll see what we can do about that." It only increased Quinn’s burning need to make sure that the books were taken care of.
Narilin's face lit up, and she inclined her head in acknowledgement. Then she pulled a book from the pile to the table in front of her. Quinn walked around the room, looking at the books that were damaged, watching as Narilin lovingly touched the tome in her hands. The book doctor had transparent, skin-… or bark-tight gloves on. Like she was cautious about harming the pages.
The Librarian took her time navigating the room and taking in all of the various apparatus that went into the repair. She could also see all of the stitching apparatuses that were obviously used to bind the books.
There were shelves and shelves of leather over on the right-hand side, stacks and stacks of different colors of the material. Next to those were embossing powders from what she could tell. Quinn didn't want to touch them. They were in tiny clear containers made out of glass. And the lettering stamps were exactly what she remembered from an assignment she'd done on printing presses back in the day.
Maybe her whole life had been subtly steering her toward being here right now.
The room was a strange mix of magic, Industrial Revolution technology, and old-world charm. She hoped that it was the sort of place where books could truly be fully restored. She didn't relish the Library losing magic because of books that had been so badly damaged they were no longer salvageable. Expending the energy it’d take to recreate them also seemed like something they couldn’t afford right now.
Quinn stood and watched Narilin work for a little while. Her long fingers were deft, managing to reach even the largest edges of the tome. The Salosier was an enthralling species. Quinn could watch her for days.
Suddenly, there was a chirp of some sort. It sounded more like a hoot. Quinn looked around and finally noticed the stand in the far right front corner, closest to the door she'd walked through. It wasn't so much a stand as a perch. Made of extremely sturdy-looking wood, it went straight up into the vaulted ceiling with massive logs stretched out from the midpoint on either side. It was like a ladder with one pole running up the middle.
Perched on some of those branches were the most beautiful owls Quinn had ever seen. A rainbow of dark colors, with the occasional smattering of white, as if moons nestled between them all, their eyes were watching the people in their room with interest.
The closest owl was only a few feet up, and it was watching Quinn intently.
She could see that its flanks and belly were pitch black, so dark that it almost seemed like a void around its throat, mantle, and back. There were purpley-black sheens to it with gorgeous purple undertones that winked in and out as the light hit them through the window. When it moved, its tail had a rainbow of black plumage with different iridescent colors streaking through it—purples, blues, deep greens—like an oil spill on dark water. Maybe there was a red in there too.
They were simply breathtaking, and the bright purple eyes almost glowed, sort of like the way Lynx's eyes glowed sometimes. Their claws, though, were deep red. Quinn decided then and there that she did not wish to be scratched by one of these owls.
They had to be the night owls she'd heard mentioned on numerous occasions now.
The owl she'd been studying turned to look at her and blinked very slowly. There was so much intelligence in those eyes. It was beautiful.
Thank you, it seemed to say.
Wait, what? Did you just speak to me? she thought at it.
Yes, it said, and then it hooted in this beautiful, melancholy way that rang throughout the whole room.
Narilin looked up. "Oh, she likes you," she said.
Quinn turned to her. "How can you tell?"
"It was an approving hoot. They're not usually very fond of humans." She said the word distastefully. Quinn really wanted to dig into some of the history about humans on worlds other than Earth.
Just as she was about to ask another question of the Salosier, the owl in question swooped down and landed on her shoulder. Quinn fought the urge to scream, until she realized that it had landed ever so gently, and the claws weren't digging into her but only finding balance with the slightest of pressure.
Will stay, the owl said. In her head, the words echoed colorfully inside with all of the rainbow iridescence that the creature's tail had in it. Images of happy places like fields of flowers flashed through Quinn’s mind.
"Okay," Quinn said, not really knowing what else to say to the night owl that had decided to attach itself to her.
Protect, the night owl spoke again. And Quinn wondered just what its name was.
Aradie. Aradie protect Quinn.
Quinn had to admit it was quite a nice feeling. Now she had a guard night owl thing.
Is this supposed to happen? she asked it.
Sometimes. No. But now. Now is right.
Aradie leaned forward, grabbed a small piece of Quinn's hair, and hooted softly into her ear. Quinn shook her head slightly, shocked at the breath of air that hit her. The owl sat back, making an odd cooing noise that sounded very similar to a laugh.
Narilin chuckled from over at the repair table. "Yes, that one really seems to have taken a liking to you," she said.
Quinn paused, marveling slightly at the owl on her shoulder. "Is that a good thing?"
Narilin shrugged. "I have never heard of it, but that does not mean that it has not happened before. It also does not mean that it is a bad thing. You should enjoy it. Night owls are very particular."
Quinn glanced at her shoulder. That sharp black beak looked like it could kill her on the spot, or at least peck an eye out. The owl flashed images in front of her and words. Will not harm Quinn. Protect Quinn.
She looked at the owl, wondering for a moment. What had the Library thought or encountered in the past few days that made it think she required a guard?
Not Library, Aradie said. Not Library. Just Aradie.
"Okay." Quinn could deal with that. She continued to examine the room, the bird sitting very calmly on her shoulder. Only sometimes, when Quinn turned a little too quickly without considering the balance of weight on her shoulder, did the owl dig its claws in a little more, but never enough to break the skin or to truly hurt her. It was fascinating. She was really enjoying having this bird near her—for all the five minutes it’d been there.
It made her feel less alone in this entire place.
As Quinn was examining the embossing inks again, Narilin called out to her. "You should take some of the leather and create padding so that your partner there, your new companion, does not accidentally tear your shoulder flesh."
Quinn paled a little at the thought of that because she could definitely see how those extremely sharp claws would be able to rend flesh quite graphically. While she understood that the owl had no ill intentions toward her, it didn't hurt to take precautions just in case.
In that second, the fatigue and weariness that Quinn had been somehow holding at bay washed over her like a deluge released from above. She stumbled slightly and leaned against the massive bookcase that held all the intricate parts required to complete the covers of the tomes.
The bird pushed against her head very gently and softly in an almost reassuring manner. That's when Quinn realized that it also had a soothing scent—woodsy, owly, like down in a pillow, and soft. She half smiled.
Sleep, the night owl intoned in her mind.
"Not yet." She chuckled out loud. "I need to make it to my quarters first."
She got the distinct impression from Aradie that the owl was impatient for Quinn to do so.
Narilin spoke up again. "You should really listen to the night owl. They are intuitive creatures. It is why their feathers, and their feathers alone, can be used to construct the Library’s magical tomes. If it's attached to you, there is a reason. You will find it out in time. Not even the Library will know it. It does not know everything."
Quinn glanced at Narilin, rather taken aback by that comment. She knew the Library wasn't a god, definitely wasn't omnipotent. But the way Narilin said it made Quinn want to question her further. But her thoughts were too jumbled to follow it up in the way she felt necessary. They were going to sit down and have a chat one day when Quinn had all her thoughts on the matter sorted, and wasn’t marred by lack of sleep. "We should talk later when I'm not asleep on my feet."
"That would be a very good time to speak," Narilin said, an amused tone to her voice. "I do have a lot to do right now, and while I appreciate the visit, I would like to get back to completely concentrating on the task at hand. While you, it seems, are about to fall down. Use the rest of your energy to rest, to make it to your sleeping quarters."
"Okay, Mom," Quinn said, laughing.
Narilin cocked her head to one side. "Mom, a maternal figure, correct? I see how that could be humorous."
Quinn blinked at the Salosier. "Uh, yeah, it was pretty sarcastic."
Another wave of exhaustion hit Quinn, and she realized that she'd only slept a few times, one of which she'd been knocked out for since coming to the Library. It was truly catching up to her now, magic or no magic.
Sleep now, the night owl spoke in her head again, and Quinn decided she would take its word for it. She plucked some extra padded leather and waved it at Narilin. When the Salosier nodded, Quinn took it with her and decided that she would figure out how to make a padded shoulder piece once she woke up from her nap.
She trudged through the Library, up the stairs, not seeing anybody else. Not Lynx or Malakai, none of the golems, no one at all. Her energy had risen more while she’d been in the book infirmary, and since it obviously wasn’t the sort of energy she needed right now, one of her books was waiting for her. She barely paused to absorb the next energy efficiency book on her list so it could marinate in her overnight.
Her footsteps echoed through the Library, even though the soles of her shoes made her footsteps soft. She got to the staircase and walked up the winding frame.
When she made it to her bed, she remembered that she'd wanted to take a good look around her quarters, but all she could think of was the soft mattress, the sweet scent of the bird that suddenly took off and perched at the head of her bed, and just how soft that pillow would be when her head hit it.
37
SLEEP TO DREAM
Quinn blinked her eyes open, but it was still pitch black around her. She pushed herself up and looked around for Aradie, but the bird was nowhere to be seen. In fact, this didn't even feel like her own room. Not that she'd been in it enough to really have it feel like her own room, but the principle was still there.
She listened and heard a dripping in the distance, as if drops of water were coming out of a tap and into an already partially full sink.
Very slow, very deliberate.
Almost hypnotic.
Concentrating so hard on that noise, the slither she heard felt like somebody was banging on a bass drum. It was that loud. She gasped slightly and jumped a little in her bed. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, feeling a sudden chill cross over her flesh, giving rise to goosebumps.
She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm herself down. She looked around, logically, suddenly becoming accustomed to the darkness, and she could make out vague shapes. The bed she was in was not the bed she fell asleep in. It was nondescript, plain and dark. The blankets felt oddly similar, and yet there was something about it that felt decidedly off.
They scratched her skin where before it had been soft and safe. This was decidedly not.
There was no smell permeating the entire space. It smelled like nothing at all. And that was entirely abnormal. Everything had a smell.
