Milaro looked down the massive conference table in front of him. It was perfectly smooth, ancient wood, the grain bold and beautiful. Twenty chairs ran down each side, his own at the head for a total of 41.

He ran a hand through his hair, styled as he usually wore it when conducting official state affairs. His circlet sat on the top of his head, just as uncomfortable as always. He'd been wearing it infrequently of late, having spent an inordinate amount of time in the Library.

While he was ecstatic that the Library had returned, he wasn't impressed with the fact that he'd been oblivious to Quinn's existence, even if that meant their enemies also had no idea she existed at all. It didn't matter. He felt like he'd failed as a creator. He wasn't a god, he wasn't under any delusions like that, but he had put a lot of effort and time, magical research, and probably in Quinn's eyes, scientific research, into creating a being that would circumvent the constant disappearance of potential Librarians.

As long as she managed to survive until adulthood.

Because the whole point was, there had been plenty of people with the affinity, and suddenly there were none. It didn’t take a genius to figure out someone had a hand in that.

Perhaps her creation wasn’t the reason the Library’s genetics had been sampled, but it ended up being their only option.

Finally, the door at the end of the hall opened and people filed into the room.

Milaro observed them, watching closely as they moved in, speaking to each other in hushed tones, holding folders full of papers as they stuck together in small groups. Quite a few of the council members still preferred to use handwritten documents just to keep things in their head that little bit better.

Milaro looked past them at the gilded walls of the conference hall. It could seat hundreds of people, but right now, the massive thirty-foot ceilings, the arched windows, the beautiful silk drapes, it all felt like such an extravagance in the face of what was facing them all.

In this huge room, there was a long table with enough seats for forty-one people. The council, however, currently only had twenty members, and none of them were the original members. For those longer lived people, they’d simply retired and passed the responsibility off.

In the case there was no heir? The spot simply faded…

His family, however, went back a very long time, not to its inception, because that was practically impossible.

Which made him wonder about the Library's siblings. Two of them were hibernating, but he had no idea where. Could they be woken to come to the Library's aid if it all came down to that?

"Milaro, are we starting?" Harish asked, oddly impatient for his usual self.

Milaro inclined his head and said, "Just give me a moment, I'm gathering my thoughts. We'll start shortly."

Nobody else paid attention to what Milaro said. They were all busy gossiping, catching up. It was always amazing to see the amount of people that came together for this council. However, now, in watching them, Milaro couldn't help but feel like maybe some of them shouldn't be a part of the council. It gave him pause and caution. He watched the Fae Firionas, representative Nishpa, the aunt of Geneva who worked in the Library. He didn't think there was anything going on there, but could he be completely sure?

He’d known her for more years than he could count. But he’d also known Korradine as well, and look at how that turned out.

Knowing that the Seveshall had such powerful mind abilities often caused anybody in his vicinity to obtain items or magic spells or other ways to protect their thoughts from his potential intrusion. Not that he couldn't slip under defenses. But he'd promised himself he wasn't about to intrude on anybody's privacy without permission unless there was a dire emergency or a matter of life and death.

Though technically he guessed he could claim the latter right now for the entire universe...

But none of that felt like any sort of justification for prodding so deep, no matter how much he might want to, just to safeguard everything else.

At least, not yet.

His eyes passed over Ikeshal. He was a satyr. Hal's right hand down in Halschius. It was odd for him to be here and away from his domain. Even when the council was called, he usually strayed far away. Perhaps Uncle Hal, as he was going by now, had an interest in the current state of the Library. He seemed to take a liking to Quinn, which was perhaps fortunate. He was the one person that Milaro could be certain would never betray the Library.

The Overseer of Halschius knew the stakes.

He spied Escadril, a Salosier who only attended intermittent council meetings. Not that the council met very often. It was one of those hereditary things that was passed down to the oldest heir when the previous council member passed away or retired. Part of their function was to monitor the Library's direct spheres of influence and to verify that the mana it filtered met the necessary standards.

Right now, there was a lull. The Library had returned and many people were still waiting to see the repercussions caused by its absence.

So, while he set out 40 seats, Milaro never actually expected all 40 members to attend.

Finally Dasken, the sedimentite stone species, slowly shuffling in at the end meant everybody Milaro expected was there. Dasken moved slowly, cumbersomely. His beady onyx eyes darted here and there like he was worried he'd be chastised for being tardy.

The old rock man had always been a bit stodgy.

Every single person who filed in was a different species. They represented so many different planets and solar systems. Milaro thanked whatever fortune had graced him that there were no Serpensiril on the council to start with.

Though, at the same time, that might have been a brilliant way to keep an eye on them. Short of throttling one of them and wringing out of them exactly what their faction was after... Milaro knew they couldn't even attempt to read their minds. They'd been far too clever if Kajaro and Tenejo were anything to go by.

Surely it couldn't be as simple as a fanatical need to see power cull the weak and allow the strong to survive. There had to be so much more to it than that.

Especially since there was no guarantee it wouldn’t wipe out their very own homeworlds.

Still, it was time. Milaro cleared his throat. "Let's bring this to order. We have several things to go over right now, including the summary of the Library's return."

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Daskin rumbled in his throat. It was the way he cleared it, which always sounded like rocks were moving against each other, grating. The sedimentite lifted a lava-like hand and waved it briefly pulling attention to himself.

"Yes," Milaro said.

"I recall my son returning books." Daskin drawled slowly, his voice gravelly, almost brittle. "Why was the Library offline? Why could we not access it? What happened? Is it damaged? Should we be looking into alternate filtration methods."

He spoke each word very deliberately, slowly, almost achingly so.

Milaro filed the question away. Until these literal words, he would have trusted Daskin as far as he could throw him. Although, while Milaro was definitely a strong elf, Daskin was made out of ignatius rock, which meant trying to pick him up was nigh impossible. Still he probably could have heaved him a chunk.

"What would make you ask that? We've been monitoring the filtration levels for centuries." Milaro asked, his interest piqued and his suspicions even farther.

"It was gone for so long, I thought it was destroyed. That maybe all that was left behind was the filters." He grumbled, like a storm in the distance. "The mana quality has been going down for the last several years after all."

"You know better than most of us," Milaro said, "that the Library is nigh indestructible."

Daskin shrugged. "It's not a matter of understanding or believing," he began, his voice echoing in the grand hall. "It's a matter of the fact that the library was gone. Everything can be destroyed. Even my species can be destroyed. Therefore, it's not foreign to assume that something is or was very wrong with the library especially when the mana quality diminished."

Siliqua clucked her tongue, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "That's a mighty fine observation you've got there, Daskin," she said. "However, I've been working with the library for the past few months and I can tell you it's fully functional, up and running for both returns and borrowing, believe it or not. It is doing fine. Its functions are still complete. And its filtration systems have been repaired."

Daskin turned his deep black eyes on Siliqua. She smiled, beaming back at him. He shrugged again. "Then that will satisfy my curiosity."

But Milaro still couldn't shake the odd feeling he got from the sedimentite. Yet another thing he was going to have to look into. "Anyway," he said, "the agenda today is the library and the books that were taken just before it had to close its doors."

"What do you mean, the books that were taken just before it had to close its doors?" That was Nishpa. Geneva's aunt had a very clipped way of speaking and she didn't brook any nonsense whatsoever. However, Milaro knew how to deal with that. They had, after all, been friends for millennia.

"What I mean is that there have been hints of sabotage to the library's contents shortly before it was forced to shut down." He probably should have thought that through before speaking.

Why was it forced to shut down?

I don't understand why it shut down in the first place!

Isn't it supposed to be a universal library?

I thought the pocket universe kept it separated from everything else?

How are we supposed to guard things if the library itself can't?"

Everyone spoke at once and Milaro could feel a headache coming on. He held up a hand, wondering again if this meeting had even been a good idea. "Please pay extra attention to the outskirts of your territories and neighboring territories. Keep an eye on known problem areas. Any upheaval, any ill-conceived magical ventures, even if it seems mundane at first glance. Let us know so we can look into it." He was doing his best to forewarn them while trying to encourage them to bring information to him personally -- without ever actually giving them sensitive information.

Since he wasn't certain who he could trust, he had to make sure all the information filtered through himself and a select few.

Spreading himself too thin? Never.

The rest of the room quieted down, all their attention on Milaro. He didn't particularly want it, but he had it, and for the time being, that would have to be enough. "The Library, as you've no doubt realized, is no longer broken. It's returning to full power and you should have noticed the improvement in mana filtration already."

Harish stood up and cleared his throat, allowing Milaro to take a seat. At least having his own right-hand man in the meeting always helped. "The focus right now will be on replenishing the library stocks. We need the council members to go back to our usual Library supply contracts. During this last half millennia, and the library being so quiet, I realize that many of you stopped or minimized production on the items required for the library trades. I want to touch base and make sure you have everything you need in order to begin replenishment of the clay blocks, the metal blocks, the malachite crystals, and everything else the library requires to function at an optimal level."

Nishpa sighed loudly. "You understand the mana came dangerously close to being corrupted, right? As Fae, we are bound by magic. We can't escape it. Our entire existence relies on it. I have sick children from the contamination that was starting to seep into the mana when they were born."

"Are they going to be okay?" Milaro asked.

"Yes. But," Nishpa continued, "it's not the library's fault. As far as I am to understand it, as my niece briefed me, there is a faction who wants to destroy the library. Is that correct, Milaro?"

As another wave of rampant questions broke out throughout the room, Milaro wished, for just a second, that he'd pulled Nishpa aside earlier and spoken to her.

Why haven't you told us this?

I thought that was why we had the council, to protect the library?

Who on earth would wish for that?

Milaro paused and took in everyone in the room again, noting down those who didn't protest at all, and those who protested too much. a breath. Nispha met his gaze and gave him an imperceptible nod. Ah, that was good to know. She was being deliberately disruptive. He'd have to talk to her after the meeting. "As always there are some factions not in line with the general consensus. This is always to be expected. I apologize for not mentioning it sooner."

"We will help where we can help. The library stops filtering that mana, and we're all in the dark. The gravity of the situation is not lost on us." she said gravely.

Escadril nodded. The boughs on top of his head were massive, like a beautiful oak tree. His nine fingers on each hand tapped gently as he moved them against the wooden table. "My grandniece has been extremely happy working at the library, and yet extremely sad and angry that so many of the books are damaged during its downtime. What can we do, Milaro? Tell us, what do you need from us."

At that moment, Milaro had to make a very difficult decision. Either he kept everything secret and tried to do everything himself, which was very obviously not working out, considering he also had a kingdom to run. However, many of these people had been with him for a long time, a few of them even knew about Quinn. If some of them, one of them, any of them, had been pulling strings behind his back to make the Library collapse, then he didn't know who it was. Wasn't it better to keep enemies closer? And maybe if they knew more, if they thought they were getting away with it, if there was a traitor on the council, then perhaps, just perhaps, they might even slip up.

And so he made the decision in a split second and turned, "What we need to do is monitor the Serpensiril and the Esposian Fae, please, Nishpa."

"Yes, my niece has already briefed me on this. We are still in the process of trying to heal the survivors." She sounded sad, but with an underlying tone of anger and determination. That pretty much summed up Nishpa.

Milaro nodded. "We need all of you to keep an eye out. Everybody needs to be alert and vigilant. We are missing several pertinent tomes and have locations for them." He didn't want to let out all of the information, least of all that which painted the Library in a bad light. Even if he knew it would come to the fore eventually, he needed to buy time and at least give them a chance to rectify the situation.

"You have locations?" Ikeshal, the satyr who'd been sent by Uncle Hal, said.

"We have approximate locations."

"Ah," he said, "better than nothing."

Milaro could tell he meant, better than he'd hoped for. "Precisely. Any information on practices that are attempting to halt mana filtration, or disrupt the magical balance we've only precariously maintained is appreciated."

Escadril cleared his throat. "I'll have my aide prepare a report for you. Our scouts have several instances on file that might interest you." He glanced around the room, the leaves in his hair rustling ominously. "After all, we wouldn't want to encourage anyone to destroy the universe."

His flat statement fell across the silent room, but the Salosier's gaze rested on Daskin the Sedementite, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment, eyes downcast. He didn't say a word.

He didn't really have to.

Milaro took note and continued on as if there had been no pause at all.