The Last Library Ch. 02

And so it was, that, on one of the occasions, she was just finishing up with a mischievous grin, when he suddenly said, "You know, that seems like a great idea."

Before she had an inkling of what he meant, he had reached down and pulled his penis to point towards the space between her legs. Her eyes widened when she realized his intent and tried to bring her knees together, but his body was in the way. As the first, and strongest, part of his stream hit her thighs, she squealed and tried to turn away. The only thing this accomplished was to have him spray directly onto her crotch.

Her mouth opened wide in surprise when she felt the warm wetness cover the bottom most curve of her mound and along her lips. She started to push at his shoulders, but she was still fairly weak and only succeeded in pushing herself farther back along the seat; removing her from the line of fire.

At first, he thought she would be angry, but she recovered from her shock and looked down at the mess while shades of purple and pink worked their way across her naked body. She looked up at him in wonder, leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, and fervently kissed him.

"I'm not usually up for that," she said into his lips, "but that was an interesting surprise. Now get me into the shower." Happy that she was not terribly offended and a little aroused himself, he turned on the water and looked back at her. She was wiping a hand along her nether lips and occasionally rubbing her clit.

When he helped her to stand and hobble toward the tub, she used her free hand to reach down and grab his member. It had already hardened somewhat from her lusty kiss and her hand on it had the desired effect of giving her a steady handhold to stabilize herself with.

Once they were both under the running water, she faced him and started working her hand faster on his cock. He leaned down to kiss her and ran his hands along her body; wanting to reciprocate. She pushed his fingers away from her.

"I don't have the balance for that right now. Let me do this for you." Nodding, he pulled his hands away from her blue stomach and held onto her hips to help keep her upright. For several minutes, she worked him with her hands, but the action constantly pushed her off balance. With a frustrated tsk, she grabbed onto his body and used him to lower herself down onto her knees. Understanding her intent, he helped her down until she was staring directly at his penis.

He thought that she meant to continue her "manual" treatment and was unprepared to feel the warmth of her mouth around him. Sucking on him gently, she pulled away enough so that only his head was still between her lips. She looked up at him and ran the tip of her tongue in the divot underneath his head.

He leaned forward and put one hand on her head and the other on the wall to brace himself. Gasping at her sudden oral onslaught, he tried not to unbalance them both. She grinned up at him around the head of his cock and bobbed back down again. When he hit the back of her mouth, he thought she would pull back off and was surprised a second time. Mera paused, took a deep breath, and swallowed him into her throat.

"Fuck!" he grunted as he felt himself slide farther into her. Pleasure radiated from the head of his dick, through his balls, and, from there, to the rest of his body. He gripped one of the built-in shelves on the bathroom wall to keep from falling when his knees buckled.

When she released him from her throat, she grabbed the base of his manhood and began to stroke him. Her leftover saliva helped her hand move along his shaft until the water washed it away at which point, she swallowed him again. She took him into her as deep as he would go time and again.

He felt one of her hands grab his ass to pull him farther towards her and, looking down, realized the other was strumming her clit. He wasn't sure who was closer, but the moans that vibrated through her throat were on their way to making certain he won.

His climax overtook him as he grabbed her head and shoved her into his groin. Her hand grabbed his ass harder as he pumped shot after shot of semen down her gullet. By the screams he felt bubble out of her throat around him, he knew that she was cumming too, but was too locked into his own to let her go.

He pulled himself free as soon as he was able to let her breathe and looked down at her. Her watering eyes were full of lust and she leaned forward to take him into her mouth again; licking him clean.

When she was done, his knees finished giving way and he sank down into the tub. She scooted back to give him room to stretch his legs. Reaching behind her, she turned off the shower and let the tub fill with warm water.

As Ashur struggled to catch his breath, his blue lover settled down between his legs and leaned back into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and cupped her breasts. She put her hands over his and patted one of them.

"You're fun, barbarian," she commented.

***

They sat together in the water for some time; refreshing it to stay warm. Ashur occasionally fondled Mera's chest and, in return, she wiggled her ass against him.

Looking over her shoulder and down at the stump of her growing foot, he inhaled deeply and asked her, "How many times has this happened? How many times have you almost died?"

She sighed and wrapped both of her arms around one of his. She took a bit to answer, but he could tell that she was trying to give him a complete response, so he waited.

"I can't die."

Reaching for the taps to warm the water again, Mera leaned forward which gave him a view of her spine and the ancient magical writing there. With a mind of their own, his fingers traced them; causing her to shiver slightly.

"At least, not within the reach of the Library." She settled back against him and hugged his arm again. "Remember when I said that within these walls, caretakers are basically gods? I didn't mean just in power. No matter the damage or dismemberment, my body will always regenerate eventually."

Ashur had heard of incantations and magical artifacts that could bring someone back from the dead, but those stories were usually accompanied by tales of the resurrected being mindless husks. When he mentioned this to Mera, she shook her head.

"No, it's nothing like that. From what I know of that magic, the body is simply reanimated, but the soul is gone. My situation is a bit different. My soul is part of the Library now; embedded into the structure and foundations so when my body is hurt, a basic regeneration Word is all that's necessary." She pointed to one of the markings on her spine, just below her shoulders. "That one."

He frowned. "But what if the skin gets damaged?"

"Remember the Writing on the statues upstairs? As long as that's there, I'm good."

He thought for a minute. "And if something happens to the statue?"

"It's never come up," she shrugged. "But I do know that anyone who tries had better have something stronger than a hammer and chisel."

They sat in companionable silence for a bit after that. Later on, they sat at the table; having eaten a small lunch.

"I do have one question," he rumbled. "If only the first races can use the Lexicon, how are mages able to do magic?"

Mera sat back in her chair and looked speculatively at the ceiling.

"As near as I can tell," she said, "the magic used these days is a bastardized form of the Lexicon. I haven't checked in the last couple of centuries but, from what I've seen, mages of your time have to use long spells and incantations in order to ask the gods or other entities for power to use. Most of those beings don't really like giving power away so the mage has to work hard to get their attention. He basically has to make enough of a nuisance of himself to get noticed, but not so much that he gets obliterated to stop his pestering.

"I think someone figured it out about five or six hundred years after the cataclysm. There were all sorts of "magic-men" sitting by themselves chanting for a long time until some of them got together and started to compare notes on what worked and what didn't. Eventually, these became the "spells" that future mages learned from."

Ashur thought about that for a moment. "So how is that using the Lexicon?"

The ageless woman tapped her fingers on the table for a few seconds; clearly trying to find a good way to explain. Finally, she nodded.

"Each of the Words of the Lexicon are much longer than a regular word so they have many more syllables. Unless you have been trained by one of the first races, there is no way to know that each syllable has power in itself and, when joined with the others, taps into the very nature of reality.

"What the mages are doing is using some of these syllables to get a god to notice them, but the syllables themselves are not doing anything because the mage is not of the first races. The god, however, still notices that the syllable is being uttered and must turn his or her attention to the mage to see what the noise is about.

"I guess you could say that the mage is like a small child who learned one or two words and is shouting them over and over to get a parent's interest so that the child can ask for a treat."

Ashur pondered that for a bit before asking his next question.

"So, their "magic" is basically a sort of prayer? That's been answered?"

Mera threw back her head and laughed. "I never thought of it like that, but yes!"

Smiling at her amusement, he continued to mull over this idea.

"Huh," he chuckled, "So both priest and pagan are doing the same thing. Interesting."

This statement made his companion laugh again.

"So," he repeated, "if mages are using someone else's power, where does yours come from?"

Mera gave another of those deep searching looks as though she was trying to figure out a problem and, as usual, gave a nod before answering.

"When the gods created the Lexicon, they chose Words that resonated with the fabric of reality. For most people, the resonance is so miniscule that nothing happens. For the first races, however, the gods amplified that resonance. Then they showed us the written forms; patterns that vibrate in the same manner as the sounds. Linked together, these became Words and the Lexicon was created."

The attentive man had heard when she used the capital "W" for Words in previous explanations, but this time, a tone sounded in his ears as she said it. He paid it no mind and waved her to continue.

"The power of the Lexicon is that it changes the very nature of the world in specified ways and doesn't need to rely on borrowing another's strength. That's why I can use magic almost limitlessly where a mage must rest after a while. To borrow a god's strength, the mage must channel that power through themselves and very few mortal creatures can do that for very long."

Ashur tilted his head. "Almost limitlessly?" he inquired.

"Well," she replied with a grin," I do have to sleep at some point. Speaking of which..." She held her arms out to him. He smiled and carried her to her room where she snuggled down for a nap. He noticed that she still needed these rest periods while healing, if not as often as she had immediately after her wounding.

Unable to sleep himself, he left her door open and sat on the couch to work through all the information she had thrown at him. He had never had any aptitude for magic, nor the desire to learn it. He had known many mages over the years; most of whom had been in the ranks of the army themselves. They had been hoarders of their secrets and done their best to keep books, rituals, and other artifacts out of the hands of and away from the eyes of casual onlookers. Whenever they had been called upon for battles, they stood as a group far away from the main fighting; guarded by a handpicked team of foot-soldiers that had been sworn to secrecy.

What little he had garnered was that the study of magic was long and dangerous. Mera's mention of being obliterated by an irate god explained a few explosions and fires he had seen in the mage's college. It made him even more glad that he had never ventured down that road. He could be a stubborn pain in the ass when he chose, but that was taking it a bit too far.

But Mera, by her own admission, could use the Lexicon to accomplish anything a mage could do and more. How had she been hurt? The recovering woman had alluded to other injuries in the past; some worse than this. How?

Perhaps her long-deceased lover had been her protection?

No. When he had died for the Library, it was to take the enchanted structure out of the world. Only then had the various hinted-at dangers emerged. Before then, the Library had been in the middle of a bustling city with a stray dog being the most fearsome creature, according to the lonely caretaker.

The thought of her being hurt pained him. Obviously, he didn't like seeing anyone not an enemy be hurt, but this was more. He liked this woman. Beautiful, smart, and, obviously, brave, she had caught his interest above and beyond the desperate sex of their first night and their brief playing in the bathroom.

It took him a bit, but he seriously examined his emotions. Did he love her? No, not quite. The potential might be there, but, as it stood, he felt affection, but not much more and he was certain she felt the same.

Other than the oral attack he had received a few hours ago, they had not done anything sexual since that emotional night; despite him sleeping in the same bed with her. Her injured state had kept his arousal non-existent and it had appeared that she didn't have the energy or inclination either.

No. He could feel the beginnings of a friendship here, but it would end soon enough with his return to the world. Until then, however, she needed someone to watch her back on these excursions of hers. Whether she could die or not didn't mean she couldn't feel the pain of her injuries. Her screams when he had lifted her proved that. He suddenly had the image of a formless creature with claws that matched the rents in her skirt holding her down and mutilating her over and over again while she healed just in time to have it happen again. The thought sickened him and pushed a fist into his gut to ease the feeling. Yes, he decided. He would watch her back until he was gone.

With that new resolve in his mind, he joined her in bed and slept.

***

He didn't broach the subject until Mera's fully formed foot signaled her readiness to resume her duties. He thought it must be getting close to time for his departure, but she had briefly shaken her head when he asked the morning after their discussion.

"Soon enough," she had told him, "but not yet."

Now, with her striding back and forth to regain strength and flexibility, he queried her again. When she looked up at him in consternation, he took a deep breath.

"I need to go back to the entrance," he stated.

Her face fell. For a heart-rending moment, he thought she would cry and hurried to explain.

"I need my armor and weapons," he said. "I need them to help you."

Mera's expression changed slowly from grief to wonder to hope as she looked at him. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

"No. I can't let you. The things I face and the places I go are far too dangerous." When he started to argue, she held up a hand. "I've seen your skill and your courage. I don't doubt either of them, but I can't."

Not willing to be put off, he stepped closer to her. "No," he replied, "I can't. I cannot watch you go off into some unknown to face who knows what when I can help. Even if it's just to give you another pair of eyes or that few seconds you need to pull off some of your magic."

Ashur put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. "I know that I will only be here for a short time longer, but, in that time, let me help." He could see in her eyes that she was wavering and decided to give her one last push.

"You don't have to do this alone."

He felt it then; felt her give in. Saw that minute shift in shoulders and body that signaled a change. She nodded at him and walked to the door; heading for the lift. Moving fast despite her stiff foot, she waved him to follow along.

This time, however, she didn't take him all the way up to the main level. With practiced ease, she stopped the lift three levels above the house. Ashur was intrigued since he had kept his wanderings to the main floor. Mera, fully comfortable with her route, strode through the doorway set into the shaft wall and immediately made a right turn.

The soldier looked around him and then pulled out one of his copies of the map. Thankfully, it worked on this level as well as the top floor since, once they were away from the doorway, everything looked identical to the uppermost floor with the exception of the writings on the end of the bookcases and the shelved materials themselves.

Just as when showing him the statues, Mera made turn after turn and seemingly backtracked occasionally. This time, however, her follower was able to keep some semblance of direction. After five minutes of walking, they came to a wall; an oddity for Ashur since he had not encountered any of them above. His guide took a left and approached a silver gilded panel with three buttons.

Mera pushed the middle button and a panel the size of a doorway slid away. Marveling at all the secrets this place held, he followed her into a vast room behind the wall. While nowhere the size of the viewing room, it dwarfed the house. There was padding along two of the five walls and covered an area of the floor large enough to fit the common room where they took their meals. One of the other three walls had two more doors; one of which the purposefully moving woman was entering. Realizing that he had stopped to look at the room, Ashur hurried to follow.

Through the door was the biggest armory the experienced soldier had ever seen. Fading into the distance were racks upon racks of weapons and armor. Most were swords, maces, cuirasses, helmets, and other implements of war that he recognized, but others were a mystery to him in form and function. As he began to walk down an aisle, he noticed that Mera had stopped at the entrance.

At his look, she shook her head. "I've never been a melee kind of girl, so this is only the second time I've been in here since the cataclysm. I know what they all are and what they do but have little use for them."

Shrugging his shoulders, he continued along the aisle. A dark shield made him think of the beastly statues in the foyer and he asked if there was anything he should avoid touching. Somehow guessing what he had been worried about, the woman laughed and assured him that everything here was safe to touch. Apparently, these items had been available to study for various researchers and historians.

"If you are going to do this, I need you well armed and protected," she said. "Wander around and find something you like. I'll explain its abilities so you can decide if it will work for you." With that, she unceremoniously took a seat behind a desk that he had failed to notice during his initial, shocked look around the room.

For the next three hours, he perused the armory. Occasionally, he would pick something up and return to the desk for a description from the caretaker and was amazed every time. Swords that would cut through metal or stone, shields that could plant themselves in the earth to become a barricade and then become mobile again in a heartbeat, and armor that could shrug off a building or let you breathe underwater were all in the collection.

Eventually, he had stuck to the basics...in a manner of speaking. He had been using a sword, shield, and armor for the greater part of his military career and saw no reason to change that. However, the items he chose were almost nothing like he had ever wielded before.