33 A Conversation

"...what the hell you're doing?" , she finished as she closed the door. She then waved her hand and an odd shimmer ran through the air in front of the door.

"Why hello, Hildegard, won't you come in," the librarian drawled from behind his desk. He set down the giant volume in his hands and peered at her over his glasses. His jacket was hung on a valet stand in the corner and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing a set of intricate tattoos scrolling up his arms. He let his gold-rimmed reading glasses hang from his neck on their chain, resting against his purple velvet waistcoat like a display at a jeweler's. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm not here for pleasantries, you old snake. Don't tell me you're so bored that you're toying with freshmen. It's only been a week and he's already your assistant? And what's with handing him books from the Colonial School? Sure, it's a tame one, but what if his teacher had been someone else?" The fury and anxiety in her bright green eyes was very clear. She paced back and forth across the space in front of his desk, waving her arms as she spoke, causing her shoulder-length black hair to stream behind her like a comet's tail.

"Sit down, Hildegard. You wouldn't want to alarm our friend out there, would you? He might not be able to hear you, but your... animated... gesticulating might draw his attention regardless." he asked as he leaned back, bemused. "Now, what in the blazes are you talking about?"

The woman sat down with a harrumph. She eyed the librarian evenly. "When my order and I helped the chapter clean up what happened last year, you agreed that you would keep your retirement more low-key. This doesn't look like low-key. It looks like your planning on repeating the same process all over again."

The man continued to stare at her nonchalantly. "I never asked for your assistance, nor did I require it. What happened last year was unfortunate, to be certain. And while I did confirm that I was being and would continue to be 'low-key', as you put it, I would argue that I am already being incredibly low-key. Others of my kind spend their retirements as magnates and moguls, and here I am a graduate student. My presence in this city alone offers a great deal of security, and I'm doing it from the obscurity of a local high school. Any more low-key and I might as well leave entirely. That would probably create a lot more work for you and your ilk, since power abhors a vacuum and all.

Regardless, there's no need to get so worked up. I am merely interested in the boy. I admire his love of books. It is far too early to see if that interest will go any further than a mild appreciation. We'll see if he makes it to next semester. As for the colonial school thing - he approached me. Someone else put him on that path, and it has nothing to do with me. Besides, it's an innocent scholastic pursuit, and there is tremendous value. Were it not for the paranoid personalities of a few in local government, no one would even acknowledge the relationship between the text and the Colonies. You're chasing shadows.

However, make no mistake, if it seems that he is a good candidate, I will not hesitate to proceed. I'm not waiting millennia for a good candidate, just to placate the more squeamish among you. Besides, you already have a successor - you can't have your own designs, do you?"

Hildegard Aldrich snorted at this. "Don't be ridiculous. He's completely unsuited for our order. I just want to prevent any further unfortunate accidents. If the local chapter leader were to find out, he'll-"

"He'll. Do. What." The librarian said in a cold, dead tone. The air grew thick, and space itself seemed to groan as if it couldn't contain the pressure from his voice. "I would love to see what the mewling whelps in the chapter would do. They, you, and your union seemed to be under the mistaken impression that just because I chose this city for my... retirement... that I am willing to listen to you. As if having a few centuries under your belts gives you some unprecedented wisdom. I was ancient before the oldest of you were even born. Everyone in this city, including all of you, exist at my pleasure. Do not take my laid-back approach to be complacency."

The librarian's words fell like stones. An all-pervading silence spread over the room for several minutes, until Ms. Aldrich opened her mouth. A calm, quiet and determined voice said softly. "Grixamaddox, I promise you, even if it means my death, if another student from this school comes to harm through your action, I will make you the subject of my Quest."

It was the librarian's turn to snort. "You are taking this, and them, far too seriously. How many of their lives would come to their natural and inevitable end in the span of a breath? Besides, as I've said, he merely interests me at this point. His behaviour is... curious. We'll see where things stand next term. For now, he is merely my assistant."

The woman hesitated and said softly, "Will you swear on your collection?"

Another snort. "Don't insult me. You can leave." With that, he snapped his fingers and a sound like the tearing of paper could be heard. The shimmer around the door disappeared like smoke blowing away in the breeze. With a sigh, she got up and turned to leave.

As her hands began to turn the doorknob, she asked one final question.

"Why did you choose this city, anyway?"

"That is none of your affair."

---

Michael had finished 'scanning' several books by the time the office door opened. He looked up and smiled at his English teacher.

"Everything alright, Ms. Aldrich?"

"Of course, Mr. Prout. I just had a few things to discuss with Mr. Maddox. I also wanted to make sure that he wasn't providing you with too much help with your assignment. Draft reviews are only supposed to provide feedback."

Michael nodded. "Understood, Ms. Aldrich."

"Very good. Keep up the good work, Mr. Prout. I'll see you in class."

---

The remainder of his shift, the walk home, and dinner all passed uneventfully. He helped clean up and went downstairs to work on the project. Based on his new understanding of the project structure and approach, things progressed swiftly, and he saw notifications of progress to his Programming skill, as well. Around 9pm, he put his work aside for the night and mentally reviewed some of the poses and movements he had scanned during his afternoon shift at the library. He decided to continue to review during his Lucid Time overnight and come up with a program with the System's assistance.

After brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, he spent the past 30 minutes following the System's breathing instructions. He found this practice surprisingly soothing, and it helped to adjust his mental state.

Soon, he settled into his bed and entered his Lucid Space. He spent the time pouring over the yoga and martial arts books he'd scanned, and also reading through the archery books he'd borrowed from Jeremy - he wanted to return them and make plans to train together that weekend.

Once he woke, he dove into his exercise routine, finding it slightly easier than the prior day once again. He then tried a few yoga poses, but found them a bit too challenging to maintain after his rigorous workout. He decided he would try again in the evening. He spent a bit of time chatting with his parents, prepping his meals, and then made his way once again to school.

He arrived at the same time as yesterday and proceeded with the same run as the day prior as well. This time, no strange redhead showed up at the end, but he proceeded to shower and then head to the library.

---

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Michael was shelving books when Mr. Maddox came out of his office. He was holding another book in his hands and pouring over it as he walked slowly through the main area. Eventually, he stopped in front of one of the long tables and looked up thoughtfully at his assistant. Oblivious, Michael kept up with his shelving. After several silent minutes, the librarian asked him a question.

"Where does your passion for books come from, Mr. Prout?"

Michael jumped a bit at sudden question, as he hadn't realized that the librarian had left his office. He continued his work as he responded. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Call it professional curiosity." Mr. Maddox said as he closed the book and placed it on the table in front of him.

Michael paused his shelving at the librarian's question. "I suppose it's the near-infinite wealth of knowledge they provide, Mr. Maddox. Each book is like a small view into someone else's world. Myriad worlds at our fingertips, and all we have to do is open them up."

"Very good, Mr. Prout. An excellent answer."