The Last Library Ch. 02

"But more importantly, even with the use of the viewer, I have never been able to ascertain what caused the cataclysm in the first place. I know it wasn't natural and nothing like it has happened since, but I still can't rule out that whatever was behind it is still out there...waiting for the Library. For me."

Mera shivered again and Ashur stepped up to her. She pressed against him as his arms went around the frightened woman. Her body quivered against him, but not in the passionate throws of the previous night. The unknown source of the cataclysm had unwittingly embedded great fear in this lonely woman and her solitary years had given that fear the opportunity to worm itself deep into her psyche.

"I dream that whoever does come will be so strong that they can keep...the Library safe from whatever comes; no matter what it is."

Ashur caught the stutter and knew that she had meant to say something else. He held her tighter for a second and then let go when she made to move away from him. She shook her head as though trying to clear it and smiled up at him.

"That was quite a lot! I'm not usually this open, but when you haven't had anyone to talk to for so long, it all sort of spills out. Anyway," she chirped brightly while placing her hand on the end of the bookcase," the markings you can see here tell you what area, section, and row of the Library you are in."

Her hand traced a line under engraved lettering at a little below her shoulder height. Set around two feet above them was another set of writing that glowed faintly, but she didn't explain that it was special or different from the engraved characters, so he assumed she meant all of it.

"The areas are broken up into the geographical kingdoms and countries that donated the material, the sections are by topic, and the rows are author and title. We used to hand out maps to anyone entering the building, but there are stands that have replacements should a patron lose theirs." As if to emphasize her point, she gestured to a wooden stand that held folded papers with more of the ancient writing on the front.

"That must be a full-time job," he mused. At her quizzical look, he elaborated. "Well, I imagine you have to replace those every few years when the paper breaks down and starts to fall apart, though I don't know why you would spend the time to replace them before your Chosen One arrives."

After a puzzled moment, Mera gave a laugh and walked over to one of the stands. She picked up one of the folded papers, brought it back, and handed it to him. He unfolded it and started to turn it this way and that as he attempted to decipher the picture on the page. Without understanding the language, he knew there was only so much he would be able to figure out.

"Those aren't replacements," his guide told him. "Those are still the originals from the day we submerged this place."

Ashur stared at her in shock then looked back down at the paper in his hands. Original? How?

As if hearing him ask out loud, the azure woman patted his arm and started walking back along the route to her house. Realizing that he was in danger of being left behind, he jumped after her. When he caught up, she began to explain.

"Remember that I told you the viewing mechanism uses some of the power of time itself? The Library taps into that as well, but in a different way. Where the viewer moves back and forth along a determined temporal pathway, the Library is held in a sort of bubble. We are moving alongside the world in time, but everything in the bubble is held outside of it. Nothing here ages. Food is kept fresh and material," she swept a hand at the paper he still held, "is preserved. Without that, we would have had to employ an entire army of scribes just to keep up with replacing manuscripts that wore out."

Ashur pondered that as he followed her and then stopped when he came to a jarring realization. Mera had halted when she no longer heard his footsteps behind her and had turned to see what was wrong. Ashur's face had paled as insight ripped through his mind.

Mera was stuck here forever.

Part of him had assumed that eventually, prediction or not, the caretaker would grow old and pass away if the prophesied "Chosen One" didn't appear in time. She had told him that the Libraries had been built sometime during her second millennium and she had been here for three more. For a race that lived five to seven thousand years, she had to be getting close to the end of her lifespan.

Now, with this revelation, his face paled in understanding. There was no end for her; no reprieve until Eshava's foretelling came true. Ashur looked to see that Mera's face had turned to stone and her mouth had set into a thin line.

"I'm so sorry," he croaked at last. Not knowing how she had guessed the path that his thoughts had taken, he knew without a doubt that she had.

"Another of those lessons of longevity," she murmured. "I came to grips with the idea before the cataclysm even started. When we were chosen to be caretakers, time ceased to affect us just like the Library. It took a bit of getting used to, but it's for the best. Learning the craft of caring for this place isn't something that can be done in a few weeks...or years. As a matter of fact, I still didn't feel like I had a grip on it until a century after the cataclysm."

She sniggered at his look. "There's a lot more to keeping this place going than you think," she said and resumed their trek. Shaking his head at her resiliency, he followed along behind.

***

The walls had begun to dim noticeably by the time they had reached the "lift". The name she gave the platform that transported them up and down seemed appropriate to him and he resolved to use the term in the future. She had shown him where to place his hand and push to start the elevating mechanism and, after a few practice runs, felt comfortable with the procedure; even if his stomach didn't feel the same way from the up and down motion. Mera had grinned at his greenish complexion and suggested he wait for a few minutes before trying to go the other direction.

Leaving him to begin dinner preparations, she had returned to the Library without him for nearly an hour. When she appeared in the doorway, he rushed to help her with the rather large pile of books in her arms. At his questioning look, she had merely headed for his room and set them on the dresser in front of the bed.

"It's still going to be some time before your return journey is ready, so I thought that it might be good for you to be able to navigate upstairs." He picked up the top few books from one of the piles. They were thin and had brightly colored pictures of small animals on the cover. He raised an eyebrow at her and she fell onto his bed laughing uproariously at his expression. The soldier waited patiently until she finally got herself under control and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"It's the best way I could think of to teach you the language," she explained through her diminishing giggles. With a resigned sigh and a chuckle of his own, he turned away from the children's primers and returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner.

***

The next morning, Mera was gone when he came out of his room. She had warned him that he would be on his own for the next day or so as she had Library business to attend to. What that might be, he couldn't fathom, but he spent the time reading through the children's primers and textbooks. By the time she had returned on the first evening, he was ready to ask her for some sort of pen and ink so he could start practicing writing.

The pen she provided him with was not the turkey feather he was expecting, but a cylindrical affair with a brass point. He still had to dip the pen in an inkwell, but it felt odd not to be required to re-sharpen the nib every few pages.

Her "day or so" extended to almost a week with the blue-skinned custodian returning every evening; sometimes long after he had eaten and once while he was sleeping. After a few of these trips, she had been haggard and worn; eating the meals he prepared with gusto before heading off to a shower and bed. On one frightening occasion, she had returned with tears in the skirt of her dress that resembled nothing more than claw marks from a large animal. When he commented on them, she had shaken her head at him and said, "It's not all books and fun." She had refused to elaborate further and had gone straight to bed.

As he became more proficient with the language, he felt comfortable enough to venture out into local areas of the library. Knowing better than to stray far, he had asked his hostess for a few more copies of the map; three of which he kept on his person at all times.

At first, he had explored in small jaunts; keeping his map out and referencing it often. As he grew more familiar with the territory and expanded his travels, he became aware of something amazing built into the map itself. The images and descriptions changed with the section he was in! Fascinated, he watched as the map on the paper followed his movements. As he approached the end of a row or section, the edges of the map would label what bordered his location. Even better, if he turned to face another direction, the map would shift to match his perspective!

What confused him, however, were the glowing characters that were emblazoned on the ends of each bookcase. Try as he might, he could not read them. He spent several hours one day trying to figure them out, but eventually admitted defeat. Just as he thought he could read a word, it turned blurry and his eyes would water; forcing him to close them or turn away. When he turned back, it was as though he was seeing them for the first time. On the fourth day of trying, he resolved to ask Mera about them when she returned for dinner.

But she didn't.

For two days, he waited; assuming she was still off on whatever duties kept her far from her home. After nearly two weeks of living there, he was starting to think of it as his home too but shied away from the connection. Soon enough, he would be leaving this marvelous place and returned to his world with no memory of what had happened here.

On the third day, he started to worry, but could think of nothing to do. He had no idea where she had gone or how to find her, so he curtailed his wanderings and waited inside the house in case she returned during the day.

On the fourth day, he heard the door open and turned from where he had been sitting on the couch. When he didn't see anyone enter, he rose, stopped, and the ran for the entryway. Mera was crawling in through the doorway at the head of a trail of blood. He raced to her and started to pick her up. At her scream of pain, he stopped and lay her back down.

"What happened?" he demanded. There were so many blood smeared cuts and scrapes on her that he couldn't tell where unbroken skin was. Her left leg below the knee was shredded and her foot was missing entirely. The bones of her right forearm jutted out from the skin and the hand hung loosely by the skin and meat.

"Broken ribs," the battered woman panted. Ashur cursed himself for grabbing her without thinking. He knew better but had been so shocked by her condition that his training had fled from him. Now, he started to triage her as he would a wounded soldier after a battle.

Tearing cloth from the remnants of her dress, he started to wrap tourniquets around her damaged limbs. There was nothing he could do for the ribs right now except hope that none of them were piercing her internal organs. As he wrapped the cloth around her knee, she started batting at his hands and mumbling. Frustrated, he pushed her hands away and tried to continue his work, but she grew more insistent.

"Bathtub," she mumbled. "Get muh to bthtub."

Not knowing what she had in mind, but not wanting to cause her more pain, Ashur hooked his hands into her armpits and started dragging her to the bathroom. Her pained moans and grunts accompanied them and he leaned down to pick her up.

"This is going to hurt," he warned her. When she nodded her head weakly, he lifted her mangled body. Her scream of pain pierced his ears, but he ignored it as he set her into the deep bathtub.

Mera panted heavily once he had released her and it was several minutes before she could speak. Her eyes opened weakly and she waved at a glass jar on the shelf that held her bathing implements. He had noticed the jar while showering himself but had assumed it was a fragrance or oil. He grabbed and opened it. Inside was a greenish powder with a deep spoon or scoop.

Holding it up to her questioningly, he had to wait another few minutes before she had regained enough energy to hold up two fingers. Assuming she meant two measures of the scoop, he asked, "Water?"

At her nod, he turned the taps to start the bathtub filling. When the level of the water had covered most of her body, he added the powder at which point it immediately started foaming. Mera moaned in pain but made no move to escape the water that was churning around her. Not knowing what else to do, Ashur knelt beside her on the tile floor and waited. He jumped when he heard several loud sharp cracks from her torso and her agonized scream filled the room.

For the next hour, the soldier watched as her body began to repair itself. The skin of her broken arm wrapped itself around the bones and he could just make out two small thumps which he assumed were the bones setting themselves. The only thing that did not heal rapidly was her missing foot. The muscles and tendons surrounded the bones of her lower leg, but that was it.

All through the process, Mera groaned and shifted. When the last bit of torn skin knitted itself back together, her pained keening ended but she grunted from time to time as some internal repair was being effected.

Finally, after several hours of grisly work, the magical powder seemed to have done everything it could and the wounded woman settled into a deep slumber. Unsure what next steps to take, he decided that the safest course of action would be to leave her so as not to remove her from the effects of the healing water. Going to the kitchen, he grabbed a large pot and a small utility knife. With it, he cut the rest of her shredded, bloody dress away and tossed it into a heap on the floor.

He filled the pot with water from the tub and took it into the kitchen to heat. He wanted to keep the water warm for her but didn't want to lose any of the healing mix. With the first pot on the cooking surface, he grabbed a chair from the dining room, set it beside the sleeping woman, and settled down to wait.

***

Ashur woke with a start when he heard sloshing in the tub. For two days, he had stood watch over her; reheating water time and again to keep her warm. He had left only to eat and to clean the trail of blood she had arrived in.

He lifted his head from his folded arms to see Mera staring at him.

"Well, this is a first," she mumbled wearily. Putting her hands on the sides of the tub, she made as if to lift herself out. He put out a hand to stop her.

"Are you good to move?" he asked. Her foot had not regenerated, but he had watched the leg get slowly longer during his "tub"side vigil.

Mera nodded weakly and he reached into the water to lift her out. She clung to his neck as he sat her on the toilet and toweled her off. Her arms were shaking with the effort and he made sure she was stable as he rubbed the towel over her.

"Umm.." she started. "This is a little embarrassing, but I need your help with something." Unable to guess her need, he looked a question at her and watched as purple flushed through her skin.

"Ah...Since I'm sitting on the right spot anyway there's a rather pressing matter I need to attend to. I'm too weak to take care of it myself, so could you...?" She left the question open and he stared stupidly at her. She looked down between her legs at the covering of the toilet then back up at him.

"Oh! Shit!" he stammered. Blushing a bit himself, he lifted her up with one arm and the lid with the other. She clung harder to him as he lowered her back down.

"Not yet," Mera chuckled, "but soon enough I'm afraid."

Ashur had helped many of his friends to the jakes; wounded and drunk alike. This situation, however, was a first for him and he suddenly didn't know where to put his hands to steady the naked woman. Settling for an arm around her ribs, he looked off in the distance. He looked back at her when he heard her snickering.

"Another lesson of longevity: Eventually, modesty seems really silly." She kissed him on the cheek and he heard a liquid splashing sound beneath her.

Several hours later, Ashur stepped out of Mera's room and into his own. His clothes were still damp from picking her out of the tub so he removed them and stepped back into the bathroom.

Mera had stayed awake just long enough for him to settle her into bed and then promptly passed out again. He was not looking forward to helping her take care of "other business".

He spent the next few minutes cleaning the porcelain of the tub and floor before wandering, naked, back into the common area. Feeling better now that he knew the wounded blue woman would be okay, he relaxed for the first time in days.

She had assured him that she would probably sleep for several more days but would need his "help" from time to time. When Ashur had asked how she would let him know, she grinned sleepily at him. "It's usually in the middle of the night and you've slept in my bed before." She had patted the empty side before rolling over and falling asleep.

Now, he lay back on the couch until he found himself dozing off. Heaving himself to his feet, he entered her bedroom and looked down at her. Her face was troubled by a bad dream; what, he didn't know. He pulled back the covers on the opposite side and lay down trying to give her room should she need it, but it turned out she didn't. He had no sooner settled onto his side when she scooted back into him. Her naked body felt great against his and he wrapped his arm around her; pillowing her head on his other. He supposed the shifting had broken her out of her bad dream because he heard her hum gently to herself before snuggling deeper into him.

***

As Mera recuperated, she slept less and less. After almost a week, her foot had regrown into a stump and she hobbled around with a cane that was well worn on the handle. Ashur speculated that this was not the first time she had suffered such injuries and had asked her about it while helping her on yet another trip to the bathroom. She had simply shaken her head and held up a hand until she had finished. He was starting to think she took some perverse pleasure in trying to embarrass him and he resolved to do something about it soon.

Once he had resettled her into bed and she had snuggled back into him, she told him that there were many offshoots of the Library that, because of its very nature, led to other planes of existence and would continue to until It was reconnected with the world. As it stood, the magical edifice was in a sort of "reality limbo" (which he had not understood), and creatures from some of the other planes would wander among the farthest outreaches when their worlds overlapped the Library's space.

When he told the consternating woman that he understood none of what she said, she had patted his cheek and replied with a simple, "I know." Between her bathroom pranks and "cheeky" comment, he started to get a little surly and, one day, he followed a quick impulse and retaliated.

During her convalescence, whenever she needed to empty her bladder, she had him kneel in front of her so that she could lean on him for support. More often than not, they were both naked for an easy transition to the shower to help her clean off. She said it made her feel better, but he had a deep down suspicion that she simply wanted to shower with him; a desire he shared and felt no need to deny her.