Standard protocol and common sense dictates that whenever an unsuspecting, innocent, and unskilled lad is kidnapped to some place that may be dangerous, one should not make unnecessary noise without examining their surroundings.
Without so much as the slightest bit of light whatsoever, the young man can hardly make out his surroundings.
Tensely waiting in one spot, he strained his ears, trying to hear if there was someone- or god forbid ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ- approaches. After all, before his sight began to adjust to the darkness, other senses came forth.
It was hearing that came first.
๐๐ข๐ฑ. ๐๐ข๐ฑ. ๐๐ข๐ฑ.
The clear drops of water dripped onto a puddle of water nearby. Each drop of water dripping from the ceiling was consistent and clear- never a beat too long or short. In the silence, it was as loud as beating drums- just as loud and noticeable as the beating heart in his chest and every breath he makes.ย
Next came the sense of smell. He wrinkled his nose at the disgusting stench wafting all around him. The scent of rotten meat was enormous in the damp air, including that of blood and feces.
Just the thought of him even ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ it, let alone ๐ต๐ฐ๐ถ๐ค๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ it, made him nearly gag at the thought if he hadn't already. He was still dizzy as is by the disgusting stench, taking him by surprise by suddenly punching him in the gut.
Then, there was the sense of touch. He didn't notice it at first, but he began to feel. The stone cold floor. The cool and damp air wrapped around in him a cold embrace. There was also the mushy, sticky, and squishy thing he was touching-
He already started to instinctively retch, but the expected acidic sting of bile that was supposed to come up his throat never arrived. The only thing he could do was heave whilst on his knees and elbows, trying to be as quiet as possible.
"Huffโฆaghโฆhuffโฆhuffโฆ"
...
Time passed quickly, and the young man didn't know when, but finally, as his dry heaves abated and his gasps of air slowed to a quiet halt, he eventually found his eyes just about adjusted to the darkness.ย
It just so conveniently happened that his head just hovered over the puddle of water.
In the darkness, with not a seemingly faint hint of light, inside the puddle's reflection was the blurry figure of a lanky-looking young man- the figure of the person whom he thought he was.
If he was to be correct and if this is him, then who were the other two?
After a brief moment of thought, the young man- no, the young boy- turned towards the girl in the wheelchair. They had remained in place with their eyes unfocused and glazed, not moving even the slightest inch after the short conversation.ย
"Who are you," he asked "her."
"I am you," "she" responded.
"Am I insane?" he asked once more.
"I don't know," she- or was it himself?- responded. "Am I insane?' is not the answer. Rather, the real question is 'Are you insane?'"
"Are we not the same person?" he- or was it she now?- asked quietly.
"Why are you asking me then? Aren't I you, and you me?"
"No, I'm talking to myself, clearly."
"Are you?"
"Noโฆam I?"
The two of them- or one- fell into silence, and their eyes gradually fell towards the stone pavement below. It looked worn out, many years having passed since its creation, leaving small cracks and potholes here and there. After a moment of contemplation, they looked back at each other.
"...we're insane," they said in agreement, and they could finally put it behind them and walk towards the future with determination. Before they could take a single step forward, their first steps among many figuratively, the young boy halted. "No, isn't it 'I'm insane' instead?"
His head began to hurt once again. Wait, did he even have multiple personalities? If so this would've been way simpler, and he can easily blame it all on his mental health.
Even if he actually has an identity crisis, that's not what's important right now. What they should be focusing on is not his insanity, but the other "him" in the scary place right now.ย
Two minds together is better than one. Wait, wasn't it only one?
No, before they solve the scary problems of the other self in some god forsaken dungeonโฆ
Not remembering the fact that the thought was hypocritical, he turned to ask the girl in the wheelchair, because why not?
"Did I have a name?"
"Did you?"
He frowned at himself in the wheelchair. "I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to myself."
"Aren't I you, and you me?" "she" asked somewhat bewilderedly, and the young man cupped his chin.
"Didn't you say that earlier?"
The two looked at each other silently once again, staring deep into each other's eyes. It really was weird, looking at two perspectives of himself.
'I hate being insane,' they thought simultaneously.
Suddenly, they both gasped, and he/she/they- he doesn't know anymore, who cares at this point- wait he still cares, or maybe she?- looked at each other with widened eyes.
"Could we be in-" the girl began.
"-some super insane zone where we think we're sane?" the young boy ended.
"It's the only thing that could be true," they both said whilst nodding their heads, utterly ignoring the fact there could be options that existed but they simply couldn't think of.
"Hmmmโฆ"
โฆ
'What the hell are those guys doing?!' the young man yelled- internally, of course.
Wasn't it obvious that nothing else matters when he's in danger? Then, he stopped himself before he could throw a tantrum.
'No, that's not right. Wasn't it me that's questioning myself?'
Falling into a moment of deep pondering, later, a very quiet sigh escaped from his mouth.
'...I hate being insane,' he groaned silently.
With his body utterly exhausted from all the heaving and gasps for air, he just rolled onto his back next to the puddle.
Then realizing what the young man was seemingly laying on, he sat right back up, only to ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ the sense of stickiness and squishiness that could be felt on the back of his entire body.
Oh yeah, he was mostly naked too. Not being clothed must've slipped from his mind no doubt with the situation he was in. Feeling around, he felt dirty rags for clothing- now even dirtier than before- barely covering him.
With this, even if he encounters an enemy, let alone having not the slightest bit of protection, there's no doubt in his mind he could only hide or run. The only use of the rags that he calls clothes is covering the "important" places.ย
It made the sticky, icky feeling on his back worse.
The young man shuddered and gagged involuntarily, but that's all. At this point, he couldn't muster the energy to even attempt to heave anything out of his empty stomach.
Still, there were worse problems, and what he's doing now is a waste of time. After ten minutes of doing nothing but being pathetic, the young man knew he had to do something, lest he will eventually begin to starve, andโฆlet's say if he grew too weak to move, the process to staving off hunger is partaking in the rather unpalatable and unidentifiable option in the cell.
"If what that middle-aged man said is true, and this is the world of the Frontier, then if I remember correctly, which I probably won't, then this placeโฆ"
Figments of memories slowly drew themselves into his head. Memories that are important, and some that are not. Some, he cringed easily, and some he grimaced and tossed it to the back of his head. He knew those memories would come back sooner and later and rear their ugly heads.
He knows well from experience.
However, to make sure the young man is correct, he begins "controlling" his two complicated "limbs" to the library. Time was ticking, and he hoped information he needed would arrive.
โฆ
Luckily, it was just one "limb" he needed to control, as the other was sitting right in a wheelchair. After asking for a few directions, eventually, twenty minutes later, they arrived in front of a rather large building.
During these twenty minutes, while externally the young boy held the handles of the wheelchair and pushed it forward, it has been decided to make it easier on himself- now "themselves," he'll start identifying his now "avatars" as different people. It is confirmed they were already insane, and with voices whispering near constantly into their ears as hard evidence, why not go further?
Oh right, the voices. So faint and subtle, they sometimes forget it was there this whole time. It's been so long since they began hearing them- when did they begin hearing them again?- they're sometimes forgettable.
Anyways, it would be difficult multitasking, doing three different things at the same time, but surely with their insane mind and that one of them is in a dire situation as a good motivator, they would eventually come to quickly learn the skill.
Ahem, they digressed.
Looking up, the two stared up at the ten meter tall building. From the outside, it looked rather archaic, with gray, polished stone-brick walls or something. Along its surface were strange, carved words and patterns.ย
Oh yeah, there were many windows too, springline windows to be exact- a semicircular top and the rest a rectangle that's seven-eighths of the entire window. They were largely decorated across its walls. Over ten feet in width, the material of the window looked somewhat clear, with sunlight reflecting off its shiny glass surface.
At the entrance were a few steps of stairs that were clearly not for the disabled to traverse, eventually leading to its doors. The brown double doors looked grand carved with patterns and symbols they quite can't recognize. They looked to be made out of some kind of wood, though they couldn't tell what kind, but it was big enough for four adults to walk abreast with little difficulty if opened fully.
They weren't experts on doors or wood, or anything this library building is made out of. All in all, it looked like the average, non-impoverished, historic old European library.
Oh yeah, did they mention the entire building looked to be four million volumes? Kidding. They were exaggerating, of course. It was just a rough estimate- probably closer to the size of three million volumes.
Probably.
They also aren't experts at estimating the size of buildings, even with the minds of three people. Or was it one? They had already forgotten.
Anyways, within a minute, they made it to the front of the door, large e. It definitely wasn't because the young, weak-looking boy had to pull both the wheelchair and the girl up the few steps of stairs. Of course, the audible sound of wheezing from the boy wasn't surely due to his exhaustion either.
After a moment of time to calm his breathing, before he could even think about pushing the heavy-looking doors open, both of the doors slowly opened outwards.
A grand library was hidden within.
It was far beyond the scale of a simple school library. This was on the level of an old, grand, academic library that has been built by the generous donation of the rich.
From the entrance to the far end of the library, there were arches every so often far up above. The floor was made out of some light-brown tinted polished wood, its surface reflecting light from the windows on the sides and the hanging chandeliers.
On both sides of the library were rows upon rows of bookshelves filled with books extending all the way down to the said far end in the distance.
Not only that, between the rows of bookshelves and the ceiling, there looked to be another floor or two, no doubt filled with bookshelves, tables, and its various assortments that a library normally has.
All in all, it has a homely feeling, as most of everything looks to be made out of some warm, dark brown wood material.
With the sheer size and grandeur of such a place of knowledge, them being in person to see such a thing was far different from looking at a picture or a description of detailed words.
If this was built many centuries ago, it may be considered a historical great achievement with it standing here today, but considering such a place was built in such a town as this fairly recently, about a decade or two ago, it's still an achievement nonetheless.
Hmm, was that right? To their knowledge, this library was built when The Frontier began to build atop...when was it built? Why did they even begin such a train of thought?
Anyways, minutes ago, as they made their way towards the library, they had to take twists and turns, and among such a route were shortcuts that had them go through back alleyways.
Making their way through the shortcuts, they had found remnants of old, broken down buildings that were once used as homes and stores. With many of the newly renovated buildings acting as a wall, the ambience felt incredibly old, lonely, time worn, quiet, and decayed.
The buildings looked to be nearly fallen apart, with aged wood opening and revealing cracks and holes, ceilings that caved in from the weight of age and rain. Of course, most of them looked to have attempts of being fixed, with nailed newer planks covering some of the holes, windows, and doors. Alas, the attempts of fixing them was like sticking a small bandage across a large, gaping wound.
Truly, the passage of time has never felt more vivid, especially with their other self being in more and more danger as time passed, and here they are dawdling like old folks.
Of course, with the existence of magic, building it and maintaining such a thing may be a far simpler homely shack, but doing it for such a large library? Such a feat shouldn't go unnoticed.
'Right, magic,' they thought, seeing the large library doors twice their size remain open. They thought it must've been enchanted with a spell to sense people and open the way for them.
Taking a deep breath, the young boy grabbed the wheelchair's wooden push handles and slowly began pushing the wheelchair inside.
The moment they entered, the smell of mustiness, along with slight tangs of ink and wood drifted into their noses, telling them of the copious amounts of knowledge contained within this place.
They would've taken it in a little longer, letting themselves sink into the ambience of a quiet library, listening to the faint sound of people peacefully flipping pages and that one person coughing here and there.
Nope, the entire experience just happens to be ruined by the additional smell of rot and decay from their other self. The voices were always there of course, continuing to whisper into their ears in some unknown language, telling them of some unknown horrors and secrets that lay within.
They still don't know what those voices are actually trying to tell them.
Until they learned a way to truly ignore it, it would always be there, subtle or upfront.
It was just like unconscious and conscious breathing. A person can breathe without knowing, but when they happen to focus on it, they can no longer ignore it until they subconsciously forget.
That is why they must not dally any further.
Feeling a bit saddened by the unfortunate experience, as they fully made their way into the library, the door behind them slowly began to close until it stopped with a soft click.
The light inside the library seemingly became a tad bit dimmer.
Before making their way in any further, they remembered something important.
In such a large place, how will they find what they need? They have no trustworthy knowledge, and they are insane. There was only one thing they could do.
As children, they must shockingly ask for help when it truly matters.
Yes, it is the bane of their existence.
Thankfully, just a few meters away, to the right of the entrance was a tall, dark brown block of a table. With plenty of books stacked atop one another, such a table looked small in comparison..
In the center, behind the table and stacks of books was a pale woman who didn't look to have gone outside in a long time with long, messy brown hair and wearing circular glasses. Wearing a gray sweater, comfortable black shoes, a white collar, and a white skirt that reached her knees, she looked like the standard, average librarian.
As they approached, the sound of the pencil dancing across the paper, scribbling strange, unfamiliar symbols and letters slowly entered their ears. It was always there, and yet they had unconsciously ignored it, lost in their amazement of a grand place.ย
Yet, for some reason, they seemed to understand what they meant.
Perhaps it was the creaking wheels of the wheelchair, or echoes that came from the young boy's footsteps, but the librarian seemed to notice them.
"Hello," she greeted rather courteously without a pause to her writing. She didn't even look up at them.
That was points in their book, for a dead-tired worker to at least put in some effort to greet two poor-looking kids. Also, there's the fact that busy, tired, or deathly bored people are more inclined to let in suspicious looking kids.
"Welcome to the Library," she continued politely. "My name is Serena. How may I help you today? If you're looking to return your borrowed book, it can be put into the bin that says 'Return Here' without doing anything else."
The two children's eyes trailed towards the right, where they saw the bin with the sign "Return Here" labeled on it with sharp underlines. With just a quick glance they saw it was filled to the brim with books.
"Hello," the young boy responded in kind as his eyes drifted back. Unfortunately, it came out less courteous than he thought alongside a dish of being tired and placid. The smell of rotten flesh and the voices in his head didn't allow him the attempt to try to enjoy the natural silent ambience of the library any further. "I'm insane, and I'm searching for books that has detailed spells, rituals, and its applications of the..."
The young boy looked around. Seeing that no one was intent on spying on them, nor were they close enough to hear them, he slightly leaned forward across the table.
"The ๐ผ๐น๐ฑ ๐ด๐ผ๐ฑ๐," he whispered.
The dancing pencil paused.
Slowly, the librarian placed the pencil down and her eyes finally raised in their direction.
'Gray eyes,' the children suddenly thought. It looked like the color of the stormy clouds, drawing them into the lightning inside that were undercurrents of emotions.ย
With a glint in her glasses, the librarian really, ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐บ looked at them.
Did they say something wrong? How strange. They had already talked amongst themselves and prepared their answers in case any stranger would ask them or something.
They did so the first few times after they asked completely random strangers for guidance on the fastest route to the library. It's safe to say they needed to be prepared in order to dispel any suspicions.
They had even taken into account the innocent factor of being children and the pity factor for a disabled young girl in a wheelchair.
As countless thoughts ran through their heads, it clicked. Right. Names. ๐๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ด. Clearly she was asking for their names.
It's confirmed: they have a few loose screws in their heads. Shouldn't be a problem in this world full of magic, endless mysteries, and forbidden knowledge!
"If I may ask politely, what use would you have with this...knowledge?"
"To find a specific symbol to graft onto my body- I mean, I just happen to be curious, that's all," the young boy said, clearly unperturbed. Besides him, the girl smiled sweetly and innocently at the librarian.
Nailed it again. Of course they didn't show any signs of pride or anything, not even a smirk. It's good to be low key and humble, right? We're just innocent children, looking for knowledge that can corrupt and turn the curious into mutated monstrosities.
Where else can a person find forbidden knowledge that's dangerous, but simple to use and ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ practical other than the dangerous dungeons a specific, certain young man is currently in? The library, of course! If they remembered, in the story...
Wait, story? What story?
The librarian looked at them up and down before nodding to herself and standing up, pushing the stool back.
"Indeed, you are insane. Please wait here, I'll call the guards."
Hmm. They needed to find out what went wrong again.