The God of Stories and Creativity had flitted back over to the entrance after the conversation between the two Gods concluded, waiting eagerly to ambush Order as she exited the Cube.

“Sooo…” He spoke, wafting along next to her. “I heard what the two of you grown-ups were talking about. Big words for a lady of your stature. How are you going to solve a riddle that even old man Life can’t solve, hm? Sounds like you’re going to have to really rack that big brain of yours, eh?”

No reply.

Stories continued with his attempt to provoke a response. “Oh, maybe you’re planning to go on a quest and such? A little adventure of sorts?”

Still no answer.

“Helloooo? Are you listening, lady? I’m right here, you know? It’s kind of rude to ignore someone talking to you. Aren’t you all about manners and all that stuff?”

In her defence, Order had been completely lost in thought as she walked briskly in the direction of her log cabin. On auto-pilot, if you would. The most compelling, thought-provoking puzzle had just fallen into her lap, so it was understandable that she was currently devoting every ounce of processing power to the problem at hand.

Order finally perked up after she caught the word “manners” being said somewhere in her vicinity. Looking up, she spotted a slightly frustrated God floating to her left, arms crossed in mild annoyance at being ignored for so long.

“Oh splendid, you’re still here. I had assumed that I would need to search for you after my preparations. I will require you to follow me, God of Stories and Creativity. We have a mystery to unravel.”

“Why is it that you immediately assume that I’m going to be coming along on your little escapade? Do you think I’m a pushover?” (She did think that, yes. Scarce evidence to the contrary, in fact.)

“I’m a very busy God, OK? I don’t have the time to waste, going on a detour with a boring girl like you! I have people to shadow! Events to, uh… spectate!”

“There are a number of reasons why you will eventually accompany me.” Order started to count off her fingers. “To list a few; this “detour” as you’ve described it, is intended to solve an age-old question, one that was composed at the same instant the very first molecule of mortal flesh winked into being. The sheer history behind it, the God of Life and Creation struggling to hold back the inevitable fate of mortal death… Do you not think that it would serve as excellent material for you to write about?”

Stories quizzically raised one eyebrow. “Go on…”

“As the pioneer behind the creation of this new method of infusion, I will require you to be at hand to demonstrate the mechanism, should I need to replicate it with other Gods.”

“Not my problem… but I see your point. Continue.”

“I would also like to point out that this issue, is your life’s calling. Literally. The only purpose for your existence is so that you, along with the entire collection of your peers, can serve as proxies for Life to extend the lifespans of those less fortunate.”

“You’re not wrong, but ouch, man. That kinda stings. Don’t boil down my accomplishments into a single sentence, thank you very much.”

“If we manage to solve this enigma, you’ll have as much time as you want to pursue whatever your heart desires. You’ll be free from the shackles of your task. And besides,” Order smirked. “…it isn’t like you have anything important to attend to, do you?”

“Well, I never! What an affront to my personage! In fact, I have half a mind to just up and leave you right now for that offense!” Stories huffed in mock indignation. He was, of course, just playing up his reaction to that last playful jab by Order. Point number one was already sufficient enough to persuade him to accept her offer. It would be a treasure trove of new ideas. New avenues of storytelling. He’d be a fool to decline.

He did have a dignity to uphold, though. “But since you’re on your knees, begging and bawling in front of me with such a tearful, pained voice… I suppose I could wrench myself away from my surveillance activities for a year or two. A decade, at max. Three decades, if you really wanted to push it.”

Nailed it.

Order had, however, mostly tuned him out at this point, so the impromptu play went unnoticed. She pushed through the door to her bedroom and went straight for the bedside cabinet. Opening the cabinet and reaching inside with one arm, she felt around the back till her fingers caught onto a small indentation. She proceeded to apply pressure, pressing down until she heard the mechanism click.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Shortly after, a small square of previously inanimate wooden flooring to the side of the cabinet was revealed to be not so inanimate, groaning open and revealing a set of stairs leading downwards.

“As you can see, this would be the usual entrance to my Library. However, I believe that the information likely won’t be relevant to your circumstances. You know, because…” Order said, gesturing vaguely at Stories and his very apparent intangibility. “…of everything. Still, good to know in case you ever become solid for one reason or the other.” She unlaced her boots and deposited it into the cabinet, shutting the door.

“You know, you mentioned it was a library, but you didn’t really say what it “librar-ries”. What, you have a bunch of books about rulers and dictionaries and stuff?”

Order stopped and stared in disbelief at the clueless, floating apparition. “You… really have no idea?” He shook his head.

“Don’t you converse with the God of Truth and Honesty on a regular basis?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk about you. I mean, the few times miss Truth even mentioned you, it was all things like “Ooh, Order’s out counting sheep again”, or “Order went to redo the announcements board in the Plaza and now it’s all straight and pretty!”. Boring drivel.” Stories snorted as he recalled the chats he had with Truth.

Order stifled a smirk as she started down the flight of stairs. “Oh, you’ll see. In any case, we’ve almost arrived, so you can judge for yourself if my collection is up to par with your standards.” She grasped the brass doorknob and turned.

“WHAT.”

“THE.”

“CRAP?!”

As the door swung open, the glorious form of the Library of Records was revealed to the lesser God. Rows on rows of filled bookshelves, neatly stacked and labelled. Soft carpeting covered the floor, muffling steps and providing a pleasant texture for bare feet to tread upon.

Lighting was provided by glowing light grey balls of solidified divine energy suspended above the bookshelves in periodic intervals, the tinged glow providing a sombre, serious atmosphere to the library. Courtesy of Death, of course, on Order’s request. He was there on excavation duty anyway, and Order decided that it would be more efficient to ask for his help to dot each level with a couple spheres of divine energy rather than drag Life away from his important research just because she wanted a different aesthetic.

Besides, the priority was visibility; she’d have been fine with even pink lights if she were still able to read or write under those conditions.

Finally, a massive, circular abyss (with proper railings, of course. Order wasn’t a savage.) lay in the centre of the panopticon of literature, within which Stories could make out countless more floors of bookshelves following the one they were currently on. Books on books on books. Books as far as the eye could see. Scrolls, paperbacks, hardbacks, carvings on tablets; the whole range.

When he had finally recovered from the initial shock, he mumbled under his breath, “…ok, so not a couple of dictionaries, then.”

“…all these books are about different topics? You haven’t just… copied a bunch of the same books just to fill out the shelves, have you? There has to be like, millions of books here!” Stories had started to swim from bookshelf to bookshelf, checking the label on each one in awe.

Order grinned. She’d brought a few other Gods to her Library before, but none had expressed such uncontrolled excitement and shock when they were first greeted with the scale of it all. Truth, for example, sort of just went, “Wooow… coolio…”, then traipsed off looking for a place to sit so they could have their tête-à-tête.

“I COULD READ FOR CENTURIES HERE! LOOK AT THE BOOKS! SO MUCH MATERIAL! SO MUCH DATA! AHA HA HA!”

Ok, maybe it was time to drag him back to the task at hand. Order cleared her throat loudly to get his attention. Stories spun around in the air to face her, his face still frozen in a manic grin.

Then, with the flourish and flair that she felt it deserved, she spread her arms wide.

“Welcome, God of Stories and Creativity. To my Library of Records.”