I get led to an impressive building that I can’t believe I haven’t seen. How’d I not notice this? It looks big enough for me to fit in in my true form. The doors on the first level might be too small for me to go through, but the space inside is actually reminiscent of Eager Heart’s entry hall. A large open space with stuff inside, a railed overhang many stories up, and then more overhangs every few stories. There are tons of shelves, bookshelves that look familiar to me and weird diamond lattice shelves for less standard books.

“We’re still sorting, and you’re still Scribing, but we’ve made decent progress,” she says, swaggering with exaggerated hip movements. She’s proud of what they’ve accomplished.

Considering how many towering bookshelves appear to be full of various coloured books, they’re right to be proud. I wonder how they’re actually creating the books to start sorting them, and wander around to see if I can figure out the system.

“It’s very simple,” she says, running her scarf along the underside of her chin slowly. “There is general knowledge,” she says, holding out a hand palm up and indicating the bookshelves. “Basic skills like foraging, cooking, light gardening, simple sewing and crafting. Basic things that every commoner should know.”

Easily accessible stuff is easily accessible because it’s basic bullshit everyone should know, not stuff everyone does know. A very important distinction. The bookshelves aren’t sorted by difficulty or knowledge level, but by category. All the gardening stuff is here, all the this is there, and so on. It’s good to know the system, but I was kinda in the middle of something.

She gives a smug smirk, -- like she already knew I wouldn’t want to hear any tedious bullshit. Yeah. I was in the middle of much more interesting things. I’m predictable. Ooh~, I’m so hurt. Not. -- and then explains that they’ve used a warding system similar to how my skills unlock. If you don’t have the skill to use the knowledge in a tome, scroll, or bundle, then you don’t get to touch it. How’s this possible? Qi locks.

I think my brain broke.

I look around for a reading desk or something, somewhere to sit and rest my head. Yeah, the library is definitely unfinished. I look around to see if there are any private reading rooms. Nope. Nowhere to actually study? When I turn to look at Aunty she just looks around awkwardly.

“Ugh.”

I open my eyes, look around to see that I didn’t make an ungodly mess, and just bank my snacks while taking a deep, calming drink of hot tea. I head back to the wash area to wash my hands and face, and then turn in for a quick nap. As I’m laying down I remember that I was actually supposed to be traveling with a priest and I have no idea how long I’ve been wherever I am. I don’t bother trying to look outside to see what’s happening around my anchor, -- kinda really don’t want to know right now. Not at all in the mood for more bullshit, -- and just crawl under the sheets, snuggle into the bed, and then I’m out.

I’m asleep and not, floating in a heavy drowse as my mind wanders back to what I’m supposed to be working on. I was supposed to head to the mountains, right? No, I wanted to. I was flying, and it was bullshit, and I ate raw intestines ‘cause I got so hungry, but I didn’t finish doing my flying thingy. What are my options?

I can fly higher. Don’t care. If I want to fly higher I’ll just shift. I can fly faster. Doesn’t solve the energy and consumption thing. Next. I can drift. Wasn’t I already floating?

When I look more closely at my Wind Walk, I see that I’m pushing myself in order to move. I’m lightening myself, and then blowing myself. I giggle drunkenly and doze for a bit to give myself more energy to refocus. Just a long blink really. I snort and continue drowsing as I refocus on the window I never closed.

New Wind Walk lets me drift. So I can push and then let momentum carry me more. That sounds nice. Less work... Less tiring. I slowly blink back awake, wonder what I’m looking at, quickly browse through my options, and select Wind Walk with drifting. I can’t remember if that’s the only reason I woke back up, but it’s done now, so I settle in to sleep.

I remember I didn’t close the window so I open my eyes to see if I just dreamed that I made a selection, or if I actually chose something, and the window is still open. Why? Oh. I super exceeded my Wind Walk requirements. I can choose more things. Sitting up with a groan, I stretch and try to focus on what else I can do. Oh. It wasn’t a multiple choice screen. These were all just the upgrades. I can fly farther, faster, and drift on my momentum. Cool.

Fuck. I woke up for that? I’m waking up all the way, -- still in the process, it takes a while, and I don’t know if I can cancel. Fack! -- and all there was was to acknowledge it? I thought I had to make an informed decision or something. Double Fack~! Maybe even triple!

“Ugh!” I flop back onto my pillow, recoiling as I bounce my head off of the padded wooden pillow I’d been using for some ungodly reason. “Why?!”

I pick up the pillow and fling it before realizing I could put a hole in the wall. I flop back in annoyance at the thought of caring about damaging the shit I Willed into existence and can fix with a thought, flinging myself backwards onto what I remember is a wooden bench with a light mattress on it. Why? Why all the hard wood things? Who did this?

I sit up, pouting and wondering why it was so comfortable. Then remember that I usually just slept on the ground, which I did for a while here. I was sleeping on the lake bed for a minute. Weird. Why didn’t I make another house sooner? No, I did. I made the shack. Why didn’t I turn the inside into a real house?

I freeze incredulously as I realize that I don’t know how to manipulate spatial structures. I can get in and out of them without keys, but I can’t make the shack bigger on the inside. How do I not know how to do spatial changing things. Wasn’t I trying to link stuff?

I gasp as I realize that I haven’t successfully linked things together. I don’t know how to make transfer portals. I tried with the trapdoor and accidentally wound up in Bendy’s basement.

“That sounds like a horror movie,” I grumble, flipping the sheets back. I Will the bed back in order and move outside. “Library...?”

I try to transfer to the Library and end up walking into a short bookshelf. There’s a quick moment of fear that it’s going to domino chain until I notice it’s not a piece of loose furniture, but a piece of carved stone.

“Hmm?” I literally grab the top of the bookshelf, barely above my head and do a chin up to nearly bash my head against the low ceiling I didn’t notice. “What the --.”

The Library is in my head. I can’t transfer to it. Well, my soul, but still. Where the fuck did I transfer to?

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

I’m not sure why seeing a bald man in pajamas frowning at me while we’re both in close quarters is scary, but I sputter at the full mental breakdown off “eep! Bald man! Scary!”. It’s not until there’s a damn near synonymous roar of “monk! Run!” that I realize I’m about to get my ass kicked.

“Where’s Spring Cow?” He’s a monk, right? Maybe I can get him to vouch for me.

More shouts of “run”, along with terms such as “idiot” and “dumbass”, are lifted to mine ears, and I roll my eyes.

I watch as the monk keeps their eyes on me, even when someone comes to check on what the shouting is about, exchanging words before shouting for the other person to go with an aggressive flick of his fist.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Was he going to backhand him? I can transfer at any time, and I’ll probably do it on a reflex, so I should be good. I’ll try to think of Death Moths and see if it gets me to the nearest nest or whatever they call their communities.

The person who came in sprints off to go find backup and send for Spring Cow, leaving the monk to continue glaring at me. His stance shifts but I don’t think he’ll be too happy if I try to see what’s on the shelves. The spirits are still railing against me standing still, although, to be fair, if I do get hurt I’ll probably end up draining a few of the souls to repair...

“Eclipsed Rainbow?”

Someone, not Spring Cow fatty shuffles into the room. They don’t look very well-fed, but they’ve got tons of fabric draped over their form. Long, flowing robes, -- that he has to hold up to run. He’s late for the ball! (“Blasphemy!”) -- with a cloth bag, -- “for alms,” -- and a weird blanket sash, -- “You dare?!” “It’s a symbol of rank!” Don’t care – all topped off with some really bizarre butterfly lash eyebrows. What? Nothing from the peanut gallery on his long, sweeping eyebrows?

“What happened to the people sent to observe your anchor?” he asks hesitantly.

“Never looked!” I throw my arms up. “Didn’t feel like dealing with people, holed up in my void, never looked outside, wanted to learn how to void bug. Somehow wound up here,” I finish, sweeping my arms to indicate this weird place.

“‘Learn how to void bug’...?” the asshole says skeptically.

“I was raised by hunans, who wanted me to spin silk as a wimble, and now I’m a void bug. I don’t know anything about being what I am. I am attempting to learn. If you mock me I will be most uncooperative,” I singsong at him. “Will any of these books explain how spatial storage works?”

“That would be carefully guarded information,” this fluttery monk says stiffly, straightening and trying to loom.

Trying and failing. It looks like he’s fighting against a turtle head peeking out. Did he have to go to the bathroom and get interrupted by my appearance?

“If you have to go to the bathroom, go and take care of that,” I shoo him off. “Now are there books that will help me?”

“Even if there are, you would not be privy to such information,” the monk intones, and I narrow my eyes as I realize he’s trying to shout me down.

“Then there’s nothing to keep me here?” I say, the monk sputtering, and the angry one shocked at my disrespect.

“We will not allow you to leave,” angry eyebrows shouts. I don’t think he’s unclenched his fists the entire time.

I attempt to transfer to the Death Moths and wind up in a swampy area with a rock ceiling. Am I in a cave?

“Looks like I got permission to leave,” I snark before there’s a rising clatter.

I clasps my wrist behind my back and wait as unthreateningly as I can as a cloud of goblin children rise up from all around me. I’m standing on a bed of wood chips, surrounded by hanging balls of thorny vines, in front of a bramble screen, wondering how there’s a swamp, inside a cave, before upgrading the cave to a cavern. It’s actually pretty spacious.

-Sandy?-

My head snaps down so fast I think I gave myself a concussion. I blink to clear my eyes and try to refocus my mind, trying to remember what got my attention. Oh!

-Granin?- I stare at the one-winged –. He has two wings, but one of them looks like it’s made of paper. -What are you doing here and you have another wing.-

-The seal protecting our home came down and more people came looking for treasure! We left to find a new home,- he guffaws, slowly calming down as he walks over. He uncorks a gourd, taking a swig before offering it to me. -How did you come to be here?-

-I ran off after my ‘master’ kept my ‘corpse’ for 10 years as an essence filter. Found a strange place that shifted from one empire to another, and more nonsense. I needed a drink,- I say, drinking what honestly tastes like cheap wine with a whisky kick. I pull out a jar of Black Blood Wine. -This is Black Blood Wine? Not sure if you lot can drink it...-

I flinch at the cheers that go up. The only thing that stops me from fleeing is the look on Granin’s face. Someone’s getting an early birthday present. I take a quick peek at my logs to see why the fuck I’m not launching spit balls at every stray sound, and apparently I’m not sensing any malicious intent? Pretty sure a lot of these people are just trying to defend their homes, so I can see it.

-Very good!- he shouts after slugging back a bowl. Hefting the jar overhead and moving towards the bramble wall while I wonder if I accidentally gave him the good good shit.

-Very good,- I sigh in relief, -- both at the fact that it’s not the Red Silk wine, and that they can drink it, -- and bring out more jars. -It’s not as good as banishment wine, but I enjoy it.-

I grab a jar and follow Granin as the brambles pull back to reveal that we’re in a small cavern along the perimeter of an even larger ravine. There’re massive bramble curtains hanging along the “walls”, and there’s a lot of light coming from below. How is it warm, humid, lava-y, in an enclosed ravine underground? Or maybe the cave isn’t a swamp?

-Where are we taking this party?- I ask as Granin looks at me in concern.

-You can still fly?- he asks in concern.

-I learned how to Wind Walk,- I admit. -I haven’t imbued silk for flying in a while. I --. I will tell you over drinks and snacks.-

-Come,- he nods to me before launching himself over a river of lava.

In my head the weird wing flies off, spinning free, and Granin turns enough for me to see his horrified expression. I flinch and just stop from hitting him with a string and banking him as he glides, albeit shakily, constantly making minor adjustments with his wing to compensate for the prosthetic. I sigh in relief when he lands amidst a bramble curtain as others carry their burdens lower down.

Granin leapfrogs, gliding back and forth between the two ravine walls on his way down. I follow him at a safe distance, clinging to the brambles, ready to grab him if necessary. He makes it down, looking around before calling for me, but I’m right behind him.

-It’s a prototype,- he grins at me while looking over his shoulder. -With less restrictions on our abilities and our surroundings we are capable of so much more.-

-Could you teach me any of these things?- I wanted to ask if he could share anything with Persephone, but --.

-What happened to your little wimble?-

Fack.

-Drink!- I reiterate as I see Death Moths bringing drinks and snacks.

They don’t look happy, so much as relieved. They’re tired and hungry looking. Almost goblin-baby in their friendly form.

As things are being set up I ask invite Granin into my void. There’s a ton of shouts from my inner chorus about letting another person into my void, -- ‘cause that’s gone so well, hasn’t it? -- but I’m not inviting him in to stay. I want to ask him a few things without embarrassing him and his countrymen. Family? Species?

I’m standing at Persephone’s Memorial, trying to figure out how to ask if he wants some taters, and I realize I’m telling him about her. When’d I tune this out? When’d I start this? How’d we get here? I pause, scrubbing at my face and trying to see if my house is nearby when I damn well know it’s not, and he hands me his flask again.

-Ah,- is all he says.

He doesn’t just sit there nodding like an idiot, -- stand. He’s short, I thought he’d sat down. How’d I forget? -- and he doesn’t try to tell me things will get better. Just takes a drink and offers me one. I take a quick sip, -- I’m not trying to get drunk, I just needed someone to talk to, -- and then move us to my house.

I put my snack tray on the table along with plates of various other dishes I’ve tried and stored in bulk. I talk about the dragon-headed eels, I talk about the fish, the rice, the taters, thorns, berries, and nuts. I explain my tea bushes. I give my names for them, and their “true names”, all of which differ from their Death Moth names, and then I sit down at the table, and ask him if he thinks any of his people can eat these items.

-We would be appreciative of any efforts you would make towards helping us establish our community,- he says slowly, not touching any of the food.

-I am not attempting to claim you and yours. I just want to be able to come back when I need another drink. I was seeking a Death Moth clan to drink with, what with my rather specialised tastes,- I roll my eyes and he smirks, eyes twinkling as he takes a quick sip of tea. -Accept this as payment for the hangovers everyone will have, if that makes you feel better.-

He laughs and agrees, finally sampling some of the things I made. He reaches for something, pauses, and I tell him what it is and how it’s made. Then he samples it if he thinks it might be safe. He spits out almost anything with Shiver Thorn, although his pupils look blasted by the time we’re ready to take the safer foods out.

-You help us with cuttings so that we can establish our own farms? I will introduce you to our crafters. You can learn from them, and they can learn from you,- he says loudly, nodding along to gods only know what as he shoos me on.

I thought there was a lot of noise for the drinks. Whoo-boy!