The Sleeping Spires of the northern library were named in earnest initially. After all, none could have foreseen the bustle that would occupy it now. A secluded tower of obscure knowledge such as this would have otherwise been dedicated to a dozen drowsy scholars at most, idly scrawling on parchment. Instead, a thousand researchers with a thousand manuscripts could be found either scribbling away on long scrolls or rifling through massive codices or frantically floating about from nook to nook in search for the right reference or study to match their research. While each scholar was a true master in at least one topic, mastery of one was often not enough for the higher echelon of academics that roosted in Irum’s libraries. One particular researcher of no renown was clinging to a ladder, a sight rare in these hallowed halls. Ingrid was her name, fervently searching for a book on smokeleaf horticulture. Her research partner sat, lazily waiting at the bottom, an even odder sight to behold in the ever-hectic hall. He peeked from over the large stacks of books near him to shout towards Ingrid above.
“I’m just saying, this would go so much faster if I just floated over to the books you need.”
Ingrid stopped craning her neck for a second to give out a slight sigh.“Leland, how many times do I need to say it: I don’t need your help. I can do this on my own.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that in the slightest, but your defense is flawed on three fronts. One: You aren’t ‘on your own’, I mean, look at all the amount people here. Two: It would be fine for you to waste all the time in the world on your own, but you’re wasting my time too. Three, and I cannot stress this final point enough: You explicitly asked me to be here ‘to help’.”
Ingrid began her climb again and let out a larger sigh.“Why do you have to be a lawyer again?” she groaned as she reached for a dusty book.
“I love winning arguments.”
“I’m starting to think that’s not even true; you just like to argue.”
“Well maybe, but when I’m always right it ends up with me winning arguments.”
“Didn’t you have an international criminal law dissertation that you need to present in two months?”
Leland paused. “First off, it’s an international civil architecture code dissertation, and second…you have a good point.” He said sheepishly. A quick pump of her arm in the air showed Ingrid’s pleasure in winning against Leland even with the blank expression on her face. She had to take victories where she could, they were rare after all.
She continued to search for the horticultural text she was searching for, but could find no such book. Introductory Mandrake Breeding for Alchemical and Apothic Application (Friar Philonius Inton) and Sustainable Northwestern Cash Crop Mono/Polycultural Agriculture (Dr. Antiloq Hynatus) were dropped from 30 feet above for Leland to catch, but despite the gigantic scope of the library, smokeleaf seemed to be completely absent.
“Nothing.” Ingrid whispered, “Are you sure that this is the right place?’ she asked, slightly frustrated. Leland yelled back whilst drawing a circle on the ground,
“This is a more obscure place for texts and the books can be similarly obscure, so the books can be tricky like that. You’re looking into smokeleaf right? It might literally be hiding in a cloud of smoke like a smoke bomb.” Ingrid looked back down, her irritation growing.
“I think I could spot a cloud of smoke in the middle of a library. Why would they even enchant it with that?” She asked, completely dumbfounded.
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Leland simply shrugged and responded, “Theming? I don’t know, we all know at least one kooky botanist. Hell, I’m looking at one.” Ingrid mimed a slap with her free hand, Leland responding by cupping his cheek. Mimicking a hurt face he clutched nonexistent pearls and yelled back in an accent “Well I NEVER.” Ingrid chuckled to herself a bit while continuing to squint at the spines of books, continuing her search. Leland sighed and yelled back at her, “Listen, you found a grand total of 2 references for smokeleaf in all the regular archives and libraries with the help of archive sprites, and there is a reason that we learn magic. So for the sake of Boreal, can you please just let me help you? We both know you can barely keep yourself a foot off the ground.”
Ingrid stopped her climb to stare down at Leland again. He looked up at her with a smug grin and turned back towards the circle to finish the inscription. Ingrid was getting tired. This was the last chance to find something on smokeleaf short of going to Azmarin herself, so she had no choice, lest she want to completely change the central flora of the studies that she spent 2 years on already. Ingrid softly knocked her head on the ladder before groaning through gritted teeth, “Can you hel-”
“Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear with all the books dropping around me.” Another searing stare was sent down, though Leland had long since grown immune to their withering capabilities.
“Can you please help me find the book Leland?”
“Oh. Well how could I refuse such a nice request, asked so beautifully.” Ingrid slid down the sides of the ladder and landed next to Leland, smacking him hard on his shoulder. Leland proceeded to scribble a messy five-pointed star on a large leaf and hand it to Ingrid, after which he took a slate on his belt and focused. A drop of bluish clear fluid seemed to seep from his fingers and drip onto the stone. He stamped the leaf onto the surface of the stone and handed it back. Ingrid then started to rise into the air as she quickly returned to the spot she was just moments ago. The shimmer of the sun’s beams descended through the archive’s towering windows and casted rays of gold manifesting in the floating dust in the air. The bustle of the library seemed to disappear in the eyes and ears of those floating no matter how panicked or rushed. Whether idle floating or expeditious ascent, the flow of extralogical energy was always palpable.
Ingrid always loved this feeling, though she would never admit it to Leland. It always transported her back to the rivers in her hometown, floating idly as the current carried her along, using her hands and balance to direct her movement. She missed those rivers. There was only so much floating that could be done in the middle of a desert. She looked down. Leland seemed so small now, about the size of her middle finger as she held it up to measure. That got another chuckle from him, but he was laughing more at the childish smile smeared across her face. She always tried to hide it, but was never very good at it.
The stress from her study wasn’t gone, but it was muted: dampened, like the sounds of music behind closed doors. She started to search again, more easily now that she was no longer clinging to the ladder. There was a myth in the academy that whenever you did research, had an exam coming up, or had anything to present anytime soon, the library would take notice and hide anything relevant from you until the very last second, whether that be the day before a test or the last hour before the library closed. Most just used it as an excuse to procrastinate but Ingrid was starting to be a believer. That didn’t last too long though as she spotted one book, with a metallic cover patterned with the striations of a smokeleaf plant, and emitting just a small amount of smoke. ‘I guess we are a kooky bunch’, she thought, reaching for it. For a moment, not even the near guaranteed teasing from Leland about ‘how right he was’ could stop how relieved Ingrid felt. That feeling didn’t last long either though, as sudden change overcame the entire spire.
The golden glow seemed to go dull and all those floating to reach some manuscript seemed to bob like a buoy being overtaken by a large wave. The archive had gone from a thousand scholars with noses in their books to a thousand fearful students staring up at the ceiling and holding as still as possible like an old house creaking in the wind. As seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, the various mages slowly and silently floated down to the ground as though attending a funeral on a sheet of glass a hair’s width thin.
Whatever vibrance there was had its legs shot out from underneath it. While light still shone through the windows, it looked sickly in comparison to the rich yellow light that had previously shone through. The shift was so sudden, most everyone in the library could barely remember what things looked like before whatever change had just occurred, but no one could dispute that something had changed. The worst thing yet? None dared speak a word in fear that things would get worse. Out on the promenade, the silent mob only rejected the hope of some mass hallucination, for the sheer scale of those affected eliminated that possibility instantly.
The silence of the many was made worse by the cries of the few. An unfortunate few students walked out with blank expressions and missing limbs, cradling the remains of their detached arms or legs in rapidly reddening cloth. Groups of students surrounding the wounded were running as fast as they could, dragging along the heavily injured. The wounded didn’t even cry for fear and shock, the cries were coming from the students carrying them. A lot of ‘Clear the way’ or ‘Excuse me’ or ‘Help please’ was heard, and paths were made and quickly filled by the mob. The shuffling of feet and the swishing of robes or lab coats were the only other sounds.
Ingrid looked at the single book in her hand. It was no longer smoking and the metallic cover was tarnishing quickly. The title of the book was becoming illegible as the cover began to wilt and decay. The small slate felt heavy in her pocket but she was too scared to take it out. She looked at Leland who’s face looked gaunt now. He was suppressing a gag poorly, his stomach jerking violently to no avail as it was empty. Their eyes both wandered for a moment towards the smeared trails of blood leading out of the labs before making contact with each other. Leland and Ingrid counted themselves amongst the lucky and slowly started the trek to Leland’s office.
