Past the entrance, there was a reception area—a circular reception desk—where the people in the middle would seem to talk with various people, some of whom might’ve been students, some just visiting the library itself, and some being faculty members. Many of the students seemed to carry books with them; they’d wait in line and then place the books they’d brought with them onto the desk. The people on the other side of the desk weren't receptionists, but librarians. They’d look at the books placed before them, then they’d look at a card-looking thing that was placed next to them, and then they’d write down something on a piece of paper, after which the librarian would either take the book and place it into a cart that, when filled, would be taken around the library itself, where they’d be able to return the books where they had been taken from. Or the student, or whoever would take the book with them and simply walk out of the library.

The library itself had a suitable name. It was grand, with multiple levels and perhaps several reception desks on each level, around them bookshelves, some of which reached the very ceiling of their respective floor. Kanrel could see that on some of the stone shelves, there were engravings resembling the symbols of the Atheian language that he had seen around. He figured that these engravings were there to help one navigate the library by either the genre or the topic of certain books, or by the name of the book or the author. Everything seemed well organized.

Kanrel and Y’Kraun just stood there, stunned by what they saw. This library put to shame those Kanrel had visited before, even the ones he had seen through the eyes of Ignar. There were likely hundreds of thousands of books in this very library, covering a wide range of topics—from science and history to language, poetry to even fables.

He had at first imagined that the building would be more like the Academy of the Heavenly and its many classrooms and many much smaller libraries than the one that he was presented with. But the building was vast, and there were two corridors leading to the western and eastern parts of the Grand Library, so he imagined that those classrooms and such would be located somewhere there.

People stared at him. They’d enter and exit through the doors, carrying books and whatnot, and as they went past Kanrel, they’d so clearly stare at him; on their faces a wide range of different emotions was present. There were those whose faces were colored with shock, some with curiosity, and some with doubt. Perhaps they had questions like, “Was this pale, hairy-looking thing dangerous?” or “Is what I see even real? Is it a ghost or a hallucination?” And Kanrel couldn’t really blame them for it. He’d do the exact same thing if he saw an Atheian in the middle of Lo’Gran or any other human settlement. He’d not understand the creature that he was looking at, and he’d certainly doubt his own eyes and even his own sanity.

Soon, they were approached by someone, a taller Atheian than what seemed like the average; their gray skin smooth, their nose tall and sharp, and their eyes a deep blue, one that reminded Kanrel of the ocean. They were so tall that Kanrel wondered if his neck would hurt after the day.

“It would be safe to assume that you’re the Darshi, whom I am supposed to lead around our little library.” The Atheian stated after they reached them, "Welcome to the Grand Library, the humble abode to all information one could ever desire. Welcome, Darshi; walk further in, and let us begin our exchange." The Atheian had a deep voice, a voice perfect for the job that it was given: to be a narrator for the books that Kanrel wished to read.

The Atheian bowed ever-so-slightly, “I have heard much of you from my fellow scholars, and I feel that through this exchange, you might be able to sate this deep-seated curiosity that has filled me since the day I heard of your arrival.”

“This is most exhilarating." They then added, “I am Gor’Aru’n Er’un, but you may call me Gor, as its meaning fits the services that I am here to offer.”

“Gor” meant "voice” and “Gor’Aru’n” meant “rumbling voice.” "Er'un” translated to “waves.” Together, his name would mean “The Rumbling Voice of the Waves” in any human language.

From Gor’s height as well as their deep voice, Kanrel assumed that the Atheian, who would read to him, was likely male.

Kanrel copied the little bow Gor had made and replied, “I am most honored to be allowed entry into this library that you describe to be humble and little. I am Kanrel Iduldian, and you may address me as you wish.” He introduced himself.

Y’Kraun translated his words and then waited for Gor’s reply.

The scholar peered at Y’Kraun and then smiled, “And you must be the intermediary voice, the one to translate our exchange."

"I trust that all will be translated to the utmost truthfulness,” Gor said with another bow, which Y’Kraun reciprocated, introducing himself simply as Y’Kraun.

With a courteous smile, Gor said, “Well then, let us begin. I have heard that history is what you wish to learn; for that, we must go to the higher levels. Follow me, if you please.” He said and made their way toward the curved stairs; their steps were long, and Kanrel struggled to keep up, holding his notebook and pen as they climbed several flights, finally reaching the fourth level.

“There is a reason for why information is segregated by floors,” Gor explained. “We see that not all information is equal. Even though most of it is readily accessible to all the members of the Grand Library, we see that one ought to make more effort to reach certain information.”

“Here, we value history above religion; religion above economics; economics and business above poetry or stories, and even language itself.”

“Some call this the ‘Hierarchy of Knowledge.’” Gor chuckled, “But to me, all information is equally valuable; it is the seeker who decides the price.”

“But I digress. You must now tell me what else you wish to learn.”

“Is it our history before we were confined to the earth below? Is it our struggle? Our achievements in building these cities over centuries of imprisonment? Or how we managed to survive the darkness that awaits past the lights of our cities? Or is it something else... something more... esoteric?”

Kanrel studied the Athiean, who met his gaze with a slight smile. His eyes were like an ocean, his voice like the waves upon that open sea. Kanrel wondered: Where might they soon drift? Where would the storms lead? Or could one trust these waves and accept where they might take him?

Returning the smile, he replied, “Years ago, I read a book in which they told the story of a man who hung for his crimes and the revolution he began in the Holy City of Terea.”

Y’Kraun translated, and Gor’s grin widened, “Ah, new information about our esteemed guest.” He exhaled and smacked his lips; he then closed his eyes and seemed to think for a moment; beneath the lids of his eyes, his eyes seemed to quiver, as if they frantically searched for something only he could see.

His eyes burst open, and he pointed toward a location. “That which you so desire is just around the corner... Follow me.” Gor said as he went toward a specific wall of stone shelves that rose from below the previous floors all the way up to the next floor and the rest that was above, perhaps reaching the very ceiling of the Grand Library. “Follow me,” he repeated as they made their way, Kanrel and Y’Kraun following him, past the other Atheians that were on this level, some sitting on chairs near large tables, reading whatever book they had in hand, with many other books laid on those tables in stacks, some of which had a few meters in height.

They were mostly ignored; only a few let their gazes linger on Kanrel. It was silent, and they could hear the turning of pages and only their own steps as they made their way.

They came to a sudden halt, and Gor reached toward a book on the shelf. A large tome that he pulled out and opened, his eyes scanning a few lines, then he smiled. “This should suffice.” He closed the book and handed it to Kanrel. “We will not read them here, as we do not wish to break the silence made for reading, now do we?”

Kanrel accepted it; it wasn’t too heavy, but there were many more books he wished to be able to read.

“Now then, what else might interest you? What else might you desire to learn?” Gor asked.

Kanrel thought for a moment, “I’ve heard that when the Atheians first arrived here, they had no other light source than the things they were allowed to bring with them. I wish to learn about the finding of the great crystal above and the founding of the City of Last Light, as well as the walls that surround them.”

Y’Kraun again translated his words, after which Gor smiled and again closed his eyes, and they would quiver. Before bursting open, he pointed in another direction, and they made their way there. He pulled out not one, not two, but three of the books that he then offered Kanrel.

“What else?” Gor asked, on his face a skewed smile.

“A book about the different religions of the Atheians.” He asked, and so Gor smiled once more, closed his eyes, and scanned within his mind where he might find what Kanrel so desired. Gor led them down a level and found another large tome that he placed on top of the rest. Now he just lifted their hairless brows and waited to see what else Kanrel might want to learn.

“Are there any records of people entering the shadows?” He asked. Now, Gor didn’t even need to close his eyes and scan from his memory what they needed to find; instead, he just smiled and led the way, up a level, back to where most of the books relating to history were located. They went much deeper this time, to the furthest corner, from where Gor pulled out a simple-looking journal that he placed on top of the rest. By now it was getting too heavy, and Kanrel had to give a few of them to Y’Kraun.

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“Is this enough, or is there something else you so desire to learn?” Gor asked; their gaze met Kanrel's, and one could not miss the amusement in those eyes.

“Well…” Kanrel muttered and soon smiled, “Are there books on magic?” He asked.

The Atheian’s smile widened. “Of course there are... But we might not have as much they have in the Sanctuary; we have only the most basic of information, only as much as they share regarding their own research." Even still, Gor led the way, up a few more levels, past the fifth floor that was dedicated to biology and chemistry and the sixth floor that was dedicated to mathematics and physics, and apparently, there were only two more levels after the one that was dedicated to magic, but they would not be allowed to go any further up.

From the seventh level, they found one tome that Gor gave to Y’Kraun, and then he again asked, “What else might you desire to learn?” His smile was still curt, but his eyes were still deeply amused.

Kanrel thought for a moment longer; this was more than enough for now, but even then he said, “I’d like to learn the language, how to read and write, and how to speak it; but I doubt a simple book would be enough for such a deed.”

Gor chuckled, “If the exchange is satisfactory to both parties, then we might speak further of such business. I for one would be interested in teaching you myself, but such decisions aren’t just for me to make.”

“Follow me; I have the perfect spot in mind for the coming days of mutual reading and learning.” Gor then added and began to lead them down, floor after floor, past Atheians who carried books around, some who sat wherever they could and were immersed in reading; some paid attention to them, but most seemed far too deep within the pages that lay before them, or their own thoughts perhaps plagued by whichever topic might intrigue them the most.

They made their way down to the first floor, then through one corridor, past many doors of smaller rooms that seemed to be private reading rooms, to a large room, where some Atheians waited to enter one of the four different doors that were on each side; the corridor continued on to ward the west; but they instead walked past the Atheians to one of the doors, which Gor opened and then entered through. Kanrel and Y’Kraun followed, soon greeted with an auditorium, hundreds of seats, all filled with Atheians, all eager with their notebooks ready, pens before them; they all turned toward them as the doors opened and observed the three that walked down to the front, where a table was placed and with a large black wall behind it; on that wall, there were some symbols that Kanrel had no idea of their meaning.

But he barely noticed it anyway; his mind was already racing. It had become quite obvious what was going on. This reading session became one for the Atheains students to observe and learn from the alien Darshi that had been brought before them. Curiosity had filled the room, and Kanrel couldn’t help but remember his years in the Academy of the Heavenly.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. But he couldn’t help but feel a sudden pressure build upon him; when was the last time that he had had to present himself to so many people? And all this without any preparation. As a young man, this would’ve been one of the worst things that could’ve happened to him. Though now it felt ridiculous to think of it like that—there were so many worse things that had happened to him since, and even worse, that could still happen to him and other people.

Gor pointed at the chair, which he had brought from behind the table; Kanrel sat on it, trying his best to contain the sudden nervousness that had been born within. He could feel his heart pound in his chest.

“I thank you all for your patience... The Darshi, whose name is Kanrel Iduldian, seems to be as curious as any of you might be; their interests seem to go past just history to religion, magic, and even language.” Gor began, and symbols began to appear on the black wall behind him.

“And today, I’ve been tasked with this great honor of reading the books that he picked, and every one of you has thus gained the honor of learning with him, although what you might learn is something that you already know, with the added benefit of the Darshi, known as Kanrel, asking further questions so that his curiosity regarding the matter might be sated.”

“Before this day, he had no idea of this, so you must excuse his baffled expression and perhaps even his shyness, but I hope that soon enough he’ll find the courage to share his opinions and even give us a lecture on things that could be seen above the ground; another perspective for us, who have dwelled beneath the earth for so long.”

“So, let us begin with the set of information that he sought to find about our people.” Gor finished their speech and took the first book that Kanrel had asked for, and then added, “He mentioned that above he had read a book about a 'man who had hung for his crimes and the revolution they had begun in the Holy City of Terea...' If there are any religious Atheians here, or those who are interested in studying theology, then they would of course be able to connect this to the God Who Hung and the religion built around this, which we all know as 'the Herd of the God Who Hung.'"

“It is most curious how such a book could still be found above after so many decades, and in a language that the Darshi could understand and read, which makes one wonder how such information could be found there in the first place." Gor then added and then cleared his throat. “Well then, let us begin this great endeavor, which will most definitely take many hours in the many days to come.”

Gor then began to read:

“Even during the Great Atheian Empire, we split the lands as follows: There were eleven great cities and the domains around them. Each city was divided into sub-sections, walled areas where people of only certain status could walk and live. Entering such forbidden areas could lead to a death sentence through hanging; at least this was most common in the ‘lands of the far west,’ as they are often called in some records from those times.

And so was done to the domains around the cities; the smaller towns and villages were all segregated between the ‘free Atheians’ and 'the serfs'—those who work the lands and are then bound to the very lands they work, as people who could be sold with the land, and even as cattle from one land to another. In fact, as seen by most of today's scholars, one could only call this slavery.

The status and what it means to be a serf have of course changed considerably throughout the times of the Great Atheian Empire; there were times when this was outright banned, and declarations of emancipation had been announced in different parts of the Empire, but seldom ever as an Empire-wide declaration.

One of the known situations that then led to one of these declarations was indeed in the so-called ‘lands of the far west’ near a great city that later on gained the addition to their name ‘holy.’

This city is of course no other than the Holy City of Terea, where a duke later on known for their tyrannical ways and vile perversions ruled the city and the lands around the city, expanding what it meant to be a serf and who in fact was a serf. This, of course, brought much wealth to them and the ruling caste of this duchy at the time, but with a great cost in population, as thousands of newly ‘named’ serfs were sold from one duchy to another, with those who remained to only have their living standards halved, as the only focus seemed to be to pull as much wealth short-term from the general populous as was possible.

Mines, fields, forestries, and other resource-generating industries went into production overload; these sectors were now filled with serfs, who were no better than slaves in the eyes of the landowners. And it didn’t take long before these serfs had enough.

Among those ‘newly appointed’ serfs, discontent for the unfair treatment that they had gone through so suddenly was perhaps the greatest, and one person, whose gender and name are by now lost, or purposefully forgotten, rose, first as a preacher to those who suffered as much as they did.

Their philosophy could be condensed into a singular sentence, which is more or less a goal than anything else: peace and freedom through any means possible.

This rhetoric soon spread amongst, first the newly enslaved and then those of the more historical serfs. Smaller revolts began to spread, first from the mine, where it is claimed that this ‘prophet’ originated. With pickaxes and other tools as well as some understanding and proficiency of magic, these slaves went against their overseers and, with great casualties, freed themselves from their whips. Becoming a band of bandits that would for months roam around the countryside, not yet entering the city of Terea, giving birth to more revolts all around the lands of the far west, until enough were freed; until they laid siege to the city with tens of thousands of slaves in the army of the one who would become the God Who Hung.

Their ways were indeed as they promised. ‘Peace and freedom through any means possible.’

It didn’t matter if they had to start a war to gain these things; it didn’t matter that they had to partake in slavery to reach their goals; it didn’t matter that they used tyranny and killed thousands upon thousands in their quest for freedom and peace. Any means possible.

And thus, the once prophet had become a warlord, who now stood with their armies before the city they would lay siege to. There were more of them than those they would fight against. Their siege lasted seven days, and through all of these seven days, their leader would preach to their followers their wisdom, a promise of a utopia where all could be free, where all could be equal, and all would get what they deserved.

They preached goodness, peace, and freedom as they laid siege against those who enslaved them.

They preached of mercy but gave none to their enemies.

On the seventh day, their enemy opened the gates to the city, and out came an army of heavily equipped soldiers, their magical powers far exceeding those of the rebels; this wave of cavalry then struck against them, and blood flowed and soiled the lands around the city; but the city was left unsoiled until the very next day.

The rebels were beaten; many of them deserted and ran away; many of them surrendered; but most of them died. And among those who surrendered was their prophet as well. And on that day after the seventh, they and thousands of rebels were hanged from atop the walls of the city; their prophet was hanged above the others.

Their transgression had been not only against the duke who ruled over the lands but against the laws of the Council of Kings that ruled beneath the Emperor in his stead.

Records state different days for how long the bodies hung from the walls; some say that it took seven days before the God Who Hung was laid to rest and placed into the crypt in the City of Terea.

Some say that it took a month; as the bodies began to rot and as crows would come and eat what they could, they say that it was only then noticed that the body that hung above the others remained intact, untouched by the rot and the crows; thus only then their body was laid to rest and placed into the crypt, where it still resides, the true god, their body intact yet to rot, waiting for the day of reckoning.

It is said that not a month after the end of the rebellion, the duke and his ilk died in a sudden outburst of plague. ” Gor read out loud, his voice deep and rumbling, narrating each page as if he were a great storyteller seated near a campfire, but instead he was a scholar, a teacher, a professor, and a librarian who stood before them all and orated through the dark history of their people, leaving many in a trance, enchanted by his voice and his eloquent manner of speech.

And when he had finished, he turned toward Kanrel and asked, “Is this satisfactory?” To which Kanrel simply nodded, for now, still thinking about everything that he had just heard.

Gor then turned back toward the audience formed by hundreds of students and declared, “We will take a short break and continue in twenty minutes; I must rest my voice and give you all a moment to think about what you’ve just learned as well as to come up with questions that you might want to ask our esteemed guest, as well as answer the questions that he might have in turn.”