Chapter Two Hundred Five: 'O, light that shines from the darkness...'

Ibai Blackburn never had so much to do. The Library of Erudition was unlike anything he had ever dreamed of. So much knowledge resided here, just waiting to be discovered--or rediscovered, perhaps.

The Library had a mind of its own. That much was quite clear to Ibai by now. And it was greedy, too. Despite how much it tried to tempt people into its clutches, the Library most certainly wanted to hoard all its secrets for itself.

Hopefully, it would like the book he was writing for it. Maybe then it would warm up to him a little.

He didn't have much experience with writing, really. It had always seemed like a rather boring thing to do, and the only reason he knew anything about sentence structure or grammar was because his mother had forced him to learn at a very young age. Even now, he wasn't quite sure how she'd managed that feat. He remembered being quite the rambunctious kid, back then--not at all like his more mature and serious self today.

Ibai's pen stopped moving for a minute. How was his mother doing, he wondered? Hopefully well. The rest of the family, too.

The news of his father's death had had a strange effect on him.

He supposed this was what people meant when they referred to being "sad"--this oppressive feeling, deep in his chest and in his mind. Like someone had draped weights all over him.

Even though he was thirty-five years old, sadness was a thing unfamiliar to him. Sure, he'd known that horrible stuff could happen, that the world beyond his little "cage" in Marshrock could be cruel and unforgiving. Anyone who had watched a serious movie or read a sad story could tell that much.

But this?

Actually experiencing it?

It was absolutely awful. And the worst thing about it, Ibai thought, was that there was nothing he could do. Because in the end, it wasn't really about him, was it? It was about what had happened to his father.

In a weird way, sadness was a surprisingly selfish compulsion. It was like it wanted him to focus on himself, on this horrible feeling within him, instead of on his father--on the actual loss. And wasn't that what he was supposed to be focusing on? The object of his grief?

Was this what sadness was really meant to feel like?

It was confusing.

His body didn't always feel in perfect concert with his thoughts. Occasionally, there would just be tears in his eyes for no apparent reason to him, and he found himself thinking of the past a lot more as well.

That part, at least, he didn't hate. It felt nice to remember the past. It seemed like a better thing to do than simply dwelling on how terrible he felt. Less self-concerned, maybe.

He wondered if he would ever be the same again. Or if anything would, really.

Ibai returned to his writing.

Despite his lack of experience, his pen moved without the slightest hesitation. The words just flowed.

He hadn't spent long agonizing over what to write about. At first, he considered just compiling and commenting on various reading materials that struck his fancy, but then he began to think that, no, he shouldn't use material that the Library already possessed. He wanted to give this book to the Library as a gift--to make it happy--and he figured that his best chance of doing that was to make something original.

So he resorted to fiction. A little novella. And at the rate he was going, it would probably be finished before long.

He just wrote. He had no idea where the story was going. Hell, he didn't even know where each new sentence was going. He just focused on keeping his hand moving and letting the words fall where they may.

It was surprisingly quite fun. He'd heard about the supposed difficulty of writing, but so far, it had been easy as pie. Almost like he wasn't even doing anything, like he was merely a vessel for the story being told, rather than the one creating it.

He hadn't thought of a title just yet, but thus far, his story was about a snake that could transform into a human. The snake enjoyed being a human so much that he began to question if he hadn't been a human all along and simply forgotten. Was he a snake that could become human? Or a human that could become a snake? Or did it even matter?

Oh, and there were robots. And flying camels. And two sentient bowls of chili that argued over philosophy.

All in all, he was eager to see how it would progress.

'Hey, Ibai,' came the voice of Chergoa.

Ibai looked up from his paper to see the reaper hovering over him. To his eyes, reapers were tiny things--little action figures that bobbed amusingly through the air as they moved. He had always enjoyed watching them, though they had not often enjoyed being watched. By him, in particular.

Chergoa, however, didn't seem particularly uncomfortable around him anymore. And he found that quite surprising. Even the reapers of House Blackburn, despite all that they had done to protect him, had still always carried a slight air of uneasiness in his presence. He had long since grown used to it. That was just how reapers were.

But Chergoa was different. She'd been going out of her way to spend time with him, lately.

It was really nice.

'How's the story comin' along?' she asked.

He looked down at what he'd written and discovered many more pages full of text than he'd realized. "Uh. Pretty good, I think. Thanks for asking." It was easy to give her a big smile. "Is there something you need?"

'No. Just checking in with you. You've been writing all day, you know.'

"Have I?" He blinked and scratched the middle of his forehead.

This little desk that he'd been using was wedged into one of the farthest corners of the Library's main chamber. Giant bookshelves surrounded him on all sides, save one narrow gap that led to a zigzagging path back to the middle of the room.

Cramped was one word for it, but he'd found it quite cozy. It was so quiet here, and the smell of books was its own kind of alluring.

'Have you eaten anything today?' Chergoa asked.

Ibai wasn't actually sure. "Um...?"

'Alright, c'mon. You and me. We're going to the refectory right now.'

Ibai chuckled faintly and put his pen down again.

'You should really be more mindful of these things,' Chergoa was saying as they navigated their way through the maze of bookshelves together. Even as a reaper, she had to follow the path along with him. For whatever reason, she was unable to phase through any part of this building, even the books. 'What would you do if you collapsed from exhaustion, huh?'

For a change, Ibai didn't know what to say--nor did he particularly want to say anything at all. Somehow, he enjoyed listening to her talk to him like this. Her tone may have been a bit harsh or irritated, but it still made him happy, nonetheless.

Heh.

It was a rather long walk, and Chergoa inquired further into the details of the story that he was writing. Ibai was quite pleased to elaborate for her, but after a while, she asked about another subject.

'Still no luck finding any books about aberrations?' she said.

"Nope," said Ibai. "I think our existence might be too recent for this Library. It's tough to find any book that's less than two hundred years old."

'Shame. I bet Gohvis would know more about your kind, but good luck getting it out of him.'

Ibai flashed a quick grin. "He does seem pretty tight-lipped, doesn't he?"

'Ha. Good one.'

"Because he doesn't have lips."

'Yes, I understood the joke, Ibai. You don't have to explain it.'

"Yeah, but I wanted to, though."

'Well, it kind of kills the humor of it when you explain the joke.'

"Mm, I've heard that before, but I disagree. I think it makes it even funnier, actually."

'You do, huh?'

"Yup!"

'Well. Uh. That's. Really weird, but alright.'

"Plus, I think it helps ensure that no one is left out of the joke--which is important, because that's never a good feeling, is it? Missing out on the thing that everyone else is laughing at? That's no fun."

'You've given this more thought than I would've expected.'

"Here, let me tell you another joke."

'Oh, okay, this oughta be good.'

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" said Ibai.

'To get to the other side,' finished Chergoa.

"Oh, so you've heard this one before?"

The reaper laughed. 'Yes. Crazily enough, I have.'

"Well, anyway, you see, the reason that joke is funny is because the punchline is so mundane that you don't expect it. And humor, at its core, is all about subverting expectations."

'Uh-huh.'

"With that particular joke, you probably would've expected something sillier like, 'to get to his five-O'CLUCK meeting.'"

'...That's probably a better punchline, actually.'

"Hmm, maybe. And the reason that one is funny is because it's a play on words."

'Yeah, I got that.'

"It's what they call a 'pun.'"

'Okay, please stop,' said Chergoa, though she was laughing again.

"Are you sure you don't need me to keep explaining?"

'I'm pretty sure.'

"Well, I think I've proved my point, anyway."

'I'm really not sure you have.'

"Oh, so you do want me to keep explaining! In that case--"

'Oh, look, we've arrived!' laughed Chergoa. 'Why don't you go pick something out to eat?'

Ibai couldn't deny that he was famished, so he decided to do as she suggested.

The refectory was an interesting place in its own right. A huge, vaulted chamber--the selection of food here rivaled what he had known in Marshrock all his life. Which made very little sense to him, considering the Library of Erudition was located on the dead continent of Exoltha, surrounded by the impassable storm, the Dáinnbolg. It was certainly enough to make him curious about how they were able to maintain such a luxurious stock, but he hadn't been able to solve that mystery yet.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He decided on chicken tenders. A simple meal, perhaps, but an old favorite. His mother had previously chastised him for his "unrefined palate," not befitting a nobleman, but his father had never seemed to mind, so Ibai had never really taken her words in that regard to heart.

Typically, when looking for a good spot to sit and eat, Ibai would join the nearest group of people and just start chatting away. He'd gotten to know several of Gohvis' subordinates much better as a result, but today, he wasn't feeling quite so sociable--and he already had Chergoa for company. He settled on a table in the far corner of the room.

'By the way,' said Chergoa as he was sitting down, 'have you found any neat books, lately?'

"Boy, have I!" he said mid-bite. "There was one I saw the other day called The Deadly Cantaloupe and the Five Rings of Mercy."

'I... see. What did you like about it?'

"Oh, I haven't read it yet, but with a name like that, it has to be incredible."

The reaper's tiny, plastic face seemed suddenly even more flat than it already was. 'Anything else?'

He took a minute to chew on that question and his chicken at the same time.

She'd been asking a lot about his reading list, lately, and the question as to why she was so interested had occurred to him a few times. He hadn't bothered to actually ask it, though, because he was a little afraid it might deter future inquiries. And he liked telling her.

Maybe she was honestly just curious, but Ibai had the feeling that she was looking for something. Maybe not something specific, though. Just something to latch onto. Something that might trigger a thousand-year-old memory, perhaps, and present her with an opportunity to learn some phenomenal secret.

In the short time he had known her, Ibai had come to care very deeply for Chergoa, but he was also not blind to the ambition that burned quietly within her.

He kind of liked that about her, too, though. It was good to be so driven.

"Well," said Ibai after swallowing his food, "I suppose there were a few other titles that also sounded interesting, like Emergent Phenomena, The Composure of Fate's Arbiters, The Theory of Empty Worlds, and The Hypothetical Evolution of Friendship."

Chergoa needed a second to process all of those.

Ibai had more, though. "Oh, or maybe The Little Grape That Tried His Best, Kaleidoscopes for Kaleido-dopes, and Little Jimmy and the Pear-Shaped Pear."

'...That first batch sounded a little more to my tastes.'

"Hmm. Really? I also saw How to Climb the Ladder of Success by Only Cheating a Little Bit, How to Program a VCR, and Learning to Read Your Own Thoughts."

'Yeah, uh. Still prefer the first ones.'

"Oh, but you might also like--"

'Have you actually read any of these books yet?'

"I usually just skim. Reading titles is super fun, though!"

'Uh-huh...'

"Truthfully, I'm always a little reluctant to actually sit down and try to get into a new book," said Ibai, "because I can't tell you how many times I've ended up disappointed. I see a title that sounds super neato-burrito, only for it to get boring really quickly. It's super unfortunate when that happens."

The reaper paused. 'And how often DOES that happen for you, exactly?'

"Oh, I don't know, maybe ninety-three percent of the time or so."

'I see...'

"Hmm. You think that's too much?"

'Maybe a tad, yeah.'

Ibai resumed eating.

'Well, I don't suppose you happened to skim through any of those first books you mentioned, did you?'

He thought back. "Emergent Phenomena by Roberto del Otoya. That one talked about famous historical instances of emergence among servants. Apparently, it's a bit of a bad omen when lots of people find out you've achieved emergence, because in many of those cases, the servant and reaper pairing were either killed a few years thereafter or otherwise ended their relationship for some reason."

'Interesting,' said Chergoa, looking around the refectory. 'What else did it say?' Her voice had noticeably lowered. While she couldn't technically "whisper," since the radius of people who would be able to overhear her would always remain the same, she could still control her speaking volume, somewhat.

Ibai knew why, of course. The other people in the room were Gohvis' men. Members of Abolish. Ideally, she didn't want to share information with them needlessly. Chergoa might have come right and told him as much, but unfortunately, she could only speak privately with her own servant, Emiliana.

Ibai didn't know if that should be such a big concern, though. These Abolishers were quite different from the ones he'd met at Dunehall. He couldn't even tell if any of them actually wanted to leave this place. Many of them seemed perfectly content to remain in the Library with Gohvis.

He'd asked a few of them why. They'd all given some variation of the same basic sentiments.

"Because we are safe here, and it is the Master's will."

The loyalty that these people had for Gohvis was not to be underestimated, Ibai felt. Whether it was fear or adoration that motivated them, he couldn't yet tell, but whatever it was, it was strong. It seemed like some of these servants were even more loyal to Gohvis than they were to their own reapers.

But he understood Chergoa's caution, of course. Even if these people planned to stay here indefinitely, it was still a good idea to keep as much information between the two of them as they could. And given that notion, it might've been wiser to move this conversation somewhere other than the refectory, but Ibai felt like it hardly mattered, really. As far as he could tell, there was no location within the Library that could truly guarantee privacy. For all they knew, even the Library itself could've been listening to their conversation.

Technically, he also could've enveloped her with his muddy shadow to conceal her voice for her, but how suspicious would that be?

No, it was better for Chergoa to simply be careful with her words.

Ibai, however, being able to whisper, was quite happy to say whatever he wanted.

"Oh, it said lots of other stuff," said Ibai. "Have you heard of something called the 'Breaking of Korgum?'"

Chergoa was silent a moment. 'Yes.'

"And did you know that there were tons of famous people who achieved emergence during it?"

'Yes...'

"Like the Devil's Knife, the Man of Crows, Bloodeye, the Hammer, the Gargoyle, the Surgeon Saint. And those are just the ones still alive. There were dozens more who are dead now, like the Red Tiger, Bug Boy, Darkhand, the Owl, the Mad Piper, and so on. There were loads of 'em."

'It is a trend I am familiar with,' said Chergoa. 'And it makes a degree of sense, of course. Those prone to achieving emergence in the first place are generally not the most safety-conscious. They keep throwing themselves into dangerous situation after dangerous situation. It only makes sense that, at some point, their luck runs out. Or the ungodly level of stress gets to them, and they just snap--at which point, any reasonable reaper would release them.'

Ibai had to frown. "That's not a very pleasant way of looking at it."

'Is there a way of looking at it that IS pleasant?'

"Hmm. Maybe not. But I also imagine that their undoings might not have all been their own fault. That kind of fame would place a target on your back, no?"

'Oh, of course. Your kin have a term for that, don't they?'

Ibai nodded. "An astero."

'That's an old Arman word, isn't it? Does it have a literal translation?'

"'Star that burns with the fires of all.' And the word 'all,' in this instance, is specifically meant to include oneself."

'Bit of a mouthful, that. I can see why they wanted a term for it.'

"The book also mentioned instances of 'multi-emergence' and 'counter-emergence.' Battles between emergence-prone servants have historically been known for that type of thing, along with all the collateral damage caused."

'Hmm, it doesn't sound like you only "skimmed" this book,' said Chergoa.

Ibai smiled as he took another bite. "I skim very thoroughly."

'That doesn't--y'know what? Alright. Anything else?'

He thought about it as he chewed. "Mm, don't think so. It had a lot of dates and stuff in it. The author was a very detail-obsessed, I think. Which is cool 'n all, but I got kinda bored. The Hypothetical Evolution of Friendship by Kareem Rambata was able to hold my attention a bit better."

'Oh? And why is that?'

"Because it was full of all sorts of crazy ideas!" A bit of food flew out of Ibai's mouth, but he paid it no mind. "Like, what if it was possible for normal people to sync their souls in the same way that servants and reapers can?"

Chergoa looked unimpressed. 'Is that what the title was referring to by "Friendship?"'

"I think so, yeah. The writer theorized that a strong enough bond of friendship could make up for the lack of a reaper's presence in the relationship."

'Uh-huh...'

"Wouldn't that be neat?"

'Sure. If it wasn't complete horseshit. Such an idea is demonstrably untrue. Thousands of years of servant-reaper history prove it. Honestly, that's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard.'

Ibai's mouth flattened. "Well, if you're gonna be like that, then maybe I won't tell about the other theories that the book talked about."

'Doesn't sound like I'd be missing out on much,' said Chergoa.

"That's very rude, you know."

'Look, not every book is gonna be a winner, okay? In fact, statistically speaking, most are gonna be stinkers. I know you're a curious guy by nature, and that's good--great, even. But you should really try not to get distracted by crackpot ideas that make no sense.'

"Hmph." He went back to his tendies for comfort.

'Don't get me wrong. They're fun to delve into every now and again for a laugh, but c'mon.'

"What about the potential for a technological solution to the same problem?" said Ibai, still chewing.

'What do you mean?'

"It's another idea put forth in The Hypothetical Evolution of Friendship--the concept that one day, perhaps, science and technology will be able to accomplish what only you reapers are currently capable of."

Chergoa was silent.

"It makes sense, doesn't it? It might be a very long time, but given the steady march of human ingenuity, it seems all but inevitable, don't you think?"

'Hmm.'

"I think that book had a slight anti-reaper bias, though. The author seemed to take a certain level of delight in the idea that reapers might one day be rendered obsolete."

'That's understandable,' said Chergoa. 'I would wager that reapers, in large part, could be blamed for many of the world's societal problems throughout history. We make for pretty easy scapegoats.'

"The book also discussed a kind of 'secret society' of reapers," said Ibai. "The Andanatt? Or 'Sovereign,' in modern Mohssian? Ever heard of it?"

'I have.'

"And? What do you think of it?"

The reaper was quiet a moment, and she glanced around the room another time.

Ibai looked as well, but it didn't seem like anyone was paying them any attention at all.

'It's tough to say for sure,' said Chergoa. 'I've heard rumors, of course, here and there. But decades go by, or centuries, until I hear something else, and it's hard to tell if it's anything more than someone's overactive imagination.'

Ibai's nose was itchy, so he scratched it. And kept eating. "Well, Kareem Rambata seemed to believe it was real. He even said that Andanatt was the true enemy of all mankind and that it had been actively trying to suppress technological development all over the planet for millennia."

'Yes, I've heard the like before,' said Chergoa.

"But you don't believe it, I suppose," said Ibai.

'I don't know,' she said. 'It just seems a little counterproductive to obsess over it when there's no real proof to go on.'

"Hmm-hmm."

'What about those other two books you mentioned? What were those about?'

"One was about shared qualities of famous historical figures," said Ibai. "The Composure of Fate's Arbiters by Jara Hanseth. It has some pretty wild theories of its own, actually."

'Oh, goodie.'

"It puts forth the idea that there's this super-secret 'bloodline of kings' that has existed since ancient times!"

'Uh-huh...'

"The author points to a bunch of ancient people like Rizo the Great, Arnel the Terror, and Makio the Immense, saying that they all emerged from total obscurity to build vast empires."

'Okay, look, I hate to shit on reading, but this is why books are overrated. Comparing Rizo the Great to Arnel the Terror is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life. Good god.'

At her reaction, Ibai's eyes widened a bit, and he smiled. He had seen her get like this a few times before when they were discussing reading material, and he couldn't wait to hear more of her opinion.

'I lived through both of those men's eras, and Arnel was such a colossal douche and overall hate-filled bastard that I don't even want to mention his name any more than that. Rizo, meanwhile, was a visionary who actually worked to improve the lives of his subjects. Sure, in some ways he failed at that, but in many others he succeeded. Suggesting that those two guys had anything more than the most superficial qualities in common is utter nonsense. They could not have been more different.'

"Heh heh. You're very passionate."

'Yeah, well. I know a lot of historians try their best, but I also know that a lot of others DON'T. And it pisses me off, because who's gonna correct them, huh?'

"Mm, reapers?"

'Theoretically, yeah. But what about when the reapers are the ones getting it wrong in the first place? We're certainly not perfect, either.'

Ibai nodded with understanding. "I suppose that would be a problem, wouldn't it?"

'Yeah. But anyway, it sounds like listening to anything else that book had to say would just make me angry, so what about the other one you mentioned?'

"Oh, The Theory of Empty Worlds by Hamish Harundel," said Ibai. "That one was kind of neat, but I have a feeling you might hate it, too."

'Oh? And why is that? Does it include more crackpot conspiracies, pseudoscientific musings, or idiotic historical takes?'

Ibai pursed his lips and avoided looking at her. "Maaaybe..."

The reaper gave a small laugh. 'Well, I'll try to keep an open mind this time.'

"Heh, okay." He took a second to consider how best to begin. It was a pretty weird thing to try and explain, he was suddenly realizing. "Um. Basically, the book was trying to put forth this idea that the physical world as we know it is, in truth, comprised of many 'sub-worlds,' so to speak."

'Hmm.'

"Another way of thinking about it might be alternate dimensions, but not in the sense of parallel realities. When I think of parallel realities, I think of alternate versions of myself and everyone else roaming around, living slightly different lives 'n whatnot, but that's not what the author was getting at. In fact, he went on a rather long tangent about how frustrated it made him when people mistook his theory as something like that. That part was interesting. You could really feel his exasperation. It seemed like his theory wasn't very well-received by his scholarly peers."

'...Are you sure you only "skimmed" this book?'

"Yeah, why?"

'Doesn't matter. What made this theory of his different from more conventional ideas of alternate dimensions?'

"Oh, because his versions of alternate dimensions are directly connected to and affected by one another. And most importantly of all, our dimension is the only one with people in it. The only one that's not 'empty,' in other words."

'Ah. So that's why he called it the Theory of Empty Worlds.'

"Yeah."

'Well, it does sound pretty far-fetched, but at least it's not making me angry,' said Chergoa. 'How did Hamish Harundel think all these different dimensions "connected" to each other, exactly?'

"In a 'foundational sense,' was how he put it," said Ibai. "So like, if there's a big rock in our dimension, then every element of that rock might exist simultaneously in its own dimension. He suggested that we therefore live in what he called a 'higher dimension,' and these elemental ones would be considered 'lower dimensions.'"

'Hmm...'

"He also seemed to think it was linked with the use of servant abilities, particularly materialization and transfiguration."

'Wait a minute. Was he trying to argue that servants are actually summoning their material from other dimensions?'

"Yes, I think he was."

'That would be pretty nuts. And also rather difficult to disprove.'

"Ooh, then it must be true!"

'That's not how finding the truth works. But I think you know that, already, don't you?'

"Hehe."

'How dare you tease me.'