There were no windows in the Archives. According to his manual, given the size and the nature of the labyrinth, it would be too costly to place and maintain mage lights. So, the only light Tim had was that of his own lantern. It was obviously of poor quality, reaching past only two or three rows of bookcases with its blue light.
As he walked, Tim glanced nervously around, attempting to make sense of the cataloging system. If it even existed. His lantern bobbed and the shadows bounced and jumped, calling to mind images of demons and burning homes. The air was oppressively still and dry and Tim’s footsteps barely echoed despite the low stone ceiling. Tim did not have claustrophobia, but even he was on edge.
Tim glanced behind himself and was immediately struck with confusion. Was that bookcase always there? Still, Tim did not want to admit that he was lost. Sure, the archives were notorious for people getting lost and never being found in them, and sure, there were rumors that the place was haunted, but he was a rational man and knew that everything had an explanation. However, the only reasonable explanation to why he was lost, even with a semi-complete map, was that somehow, the layout had changed since the creation of the map.
Well, this sure is a pickle, Tim thought to himself, twisting and turning the yellowed, flaking map around in an attempt to find some kind of solution. Now, I could be wrong, but there should definitely be a pathway through here. But, there isn’t! All I can see is yet another bookshelf! Tim sighed, gradually coming to terms with the realization that he may truly be lost. Almost in a fit of boredom, Tim glanced at the various tomes of knowledge stored on the massive bookcases surrounding him in the never-ending aisle he had found himself in.
“Alright books, any of you have interesting tidbits for ol’ Tim to find in you? How about tax reports?” He asked quietly, fingers tapping at the different book spines, coming back gray with dust.
With a start, his fingers stopped moving, as his eyes met the red-tinted stare of a rat, slightly hidden on top of a book. He jumped back with a girlish scream and dropped his lantern. In the several frantic moments as Tim and the lantern fell to the ground in a cloud of dust the top of the bookcase where the rat had been was cast into deep shadow. When Tim scrambled to his feet and picked up the lantern he saw by the dim blue light the rat with the red eyes was gone. Had there even been a rat?! He looked closer at where it had been sitting to try to determine if any dust was displaced, only to notice what book it had been sitting on.
“Well hello there buddy,” Tim whispered half to himself and half to the book, then blew the dust off the spine. “A Comprehensive History of Taxes, By Sir Maximus Collinsby the First of his Line. Well I’ll be damned!”
Even if that rat was just in his head (what would it even eat down here?!) Tim decided he would take that win. He pulled it out of the stack and noted the number in the back of his manual. Stack number 579A. And it was only 6pm! Tim was excited he would have a fair amount of time now to research what he pleased. Impulsively, he whispered to the air, hoping the rat was listening.
“Do you know any interesting books down here? Or better yet, the secret to becoming un-lost?”
Not particularly expecting to get any answers, Tim softly chuckled and resumed his search for an interesting title. That is, until the rat, about the size of Tim’s fist, emerged from its hiding place and scurried over to a book three shelves over, where it stopped and stared at Tim, almost seeming like it was daring him to investigate.
“Okay buddy,” Tim nervously said, “this is getting a bit creepy, but I’ll bite.” He reached over to the book the rat had stopped at and stared at the title. “The Rise and Fall of the Demon Race”. Well I’ll be damned.” Tim looked once more at the rat. “This was either dumb luck, or you’re smarter than you let on,” He said to the rat, brows crinkled in thought. “Do you…. understand me?” For almost a full minute, half-elf and animal stared at each other, not saying a word. The silence was finally broken when the rat, seemingly bored of the exchange, scurried off down the aisle.
“Wait!” Tim yelled, clutching the book and running after the nimble rodent. This can’t be coincidence. That book was exactly what I needed. That rat is definitely special. Tim ran as fast as he could past shelf after shelf, but the rat was somehow faster and eventually Tim could no longer see it. “Shit,” Tim panted, arms braced against his knees to catch his breath, “That fucking rat. Led me right back to the entrance.”
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Tim faced the wooden doors, still imposing to the sight, and sent a glance backwards at the unending stacks of bookshelves. “Next time buddy, you and me are gonna sit down for a heart to heart,” Tim resolved to himself, making a mental note to come back down as soon as he finished and turned in his report, and to bring some cookies for the rat. Cookies sounded quite nice.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The thick report slammed down onto the desk of Sir Nicholas Collinsby the Fourth of his Line, making a very satisfying thud and sending loose papers flying into the air.
“Here you are Sir Nicholas Collinsby the Fourth of his Line, one comprehensive report on grain taxes in Drassington, as ordered,” Tim said, barely suppressing a grin at a job well done. The obnoxiously dressed noble looked surprised, then slowly looked up at him in obvious annoyance.
“Put it in the turn-in basket, you idiotic twerp,” Sir Nicholas Collinsby the Fourth of his Line spat out, voice oozing with annoyance at being interrupted. “Now, go back down to the archives and research a report on proper ways to turn in reports to your superior, and don’t come back until you’ve finished it. If it isn’t done by tomorrow, I will declare you incompetent and have you fired.” The noble glared at him until Tim took his report and placed it in the overfull turn-in basket. With that out of the way, the noble looked back down at his now smudged work and sighed with disgust. Tim took that gesture as his invitation to leave.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Tim felt he had enough time to leave the Library and get the snack for the rat. The only reason he had this much time was because of the rat anyways, so he decided he should thank the critter. If it was pleased enough, perhaps it would help him find information on traditional library etiquette.
As Tim walked towards the exit in his fancy new robes, he saw the silver-haired elf woman he had met earlier that morning. She looked surprised to see him. “You passed! Congrats, I didn’t expect you to!”
“Thanks! You too!” Tim said, and waved, passing by. Then he groaned, dying a little inside.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The upscale market was located conveniently close to the library. Tim shouldered his way through the crowded cobblestone path contentedly. Vendors with colorful stalls shouted their wares at the crowd.
An enormous man with a greasy apron shouted “Get your rat kebabs here!! Hot and fresh!” while waving a stick of meat. “Looking for ancient books? Old Mordo’s has ‘em right here!” a little boy standing on a stool yelled outside of a curtained shop. Next to the little boy, at a bright red stall, a buff shirtless old man wearing nothing but a blacksmith’s apron shouted “Sharpen your knife for one copper or free with a purchase!” Tim flushed and looked away. He hoped the man wouldn’t turn around.
“Cookies, where are you!” he whistled to himself, pleased that he would have so much more time in the archives, the great repository of knowledge. “Aha! There you are!” Tim exclaimed, locating a market stall selling baked goods.
Suddenly, Tim heard a shout behind him. “Hey! That guy stole all my knives! What the fuck?! Come back here you fucking bitch-ass pussy!! THIEF!” He looked behind at the stall he just passed, just in time to see a dark shadowy figure dart away behind a corner, the old man bounding after him in pursuit waving a hammer.
Tim stared at this strange happenstance, unsure of what to do. Nobody else reacted though, so he just shrugged and paid for his cookies.
Tim excitedly hurried back to the library, paper bag of cookies in hand. “With this, my victory is assured!” He crowed, confident that this food would at best, lure out the rat, and at worse, help him enjoy his research time.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Tim carefully munched on a cookie so the crumbs would not tumble everywhere. If I was a possibly highly intelligent rat, where would I hide? The half-elf asked himself, walking through the archives in search for the rat he had encountered before. He looked around, but all he could see around him was shelve after shelve of books. And then, coming out of the almost stifling silence of the archives, a soft squeaking sound. Tim looked over his shoulder to his left, and sure enough, it was a rat.
“Hey buddy, want a cookie? I brought it just for you, as thanks for doing me a solid earlier,” Tim softly said, easing a cookie out of his pocket and setting it down on a nearby small table.
“It’s all for you buddy, enjoy.” With that, Tim backed off, and the rat gradually approached the cookie, snuffling its nose at the slightly sweet smell emanating from the baked dessert. The rat pawed at the cookie, gently nibbling away at the outsides. Soon enough, the cookie had disappeared into the little mouth of the rat. “There, now we are even little buddy,” Tim smiled, “though, if you have anything else you want to show me, I can arrange for more treats.”
The rat simply stared at Tim. Then, with what almost seemed like a nod, the rat scampered off further into the archives, with Tim hot on its heels.