"Wait, you've been watching me feed cats? That's a little creepy," Aimi said, crossing his arms.
Thoth ignored him. With a wave of his hand, the space around them shifted. The library dissolved into a hazy mirage, replaced by a scene from Aimi's life. He saw himself crouched beside Farah in an alleyway, offering scraps of food to a scraggly black and white cat.
"You see?" Thoth said. "The smallest acts can carry great weight. But now, your task will require more than just kindness. You must learn to weave these stories into something that will endure."
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" Aimi asked, gesturing to the infinite shelves. "This place is massive. Where do I even start?"
Thoth smirked—at least, Aimi thought he did. It was hard to tell with the god's impossibly stoic face. "You will start by proving your worth."
"Of course I will," Aimi muttered. "Because being magically teleported to a library by an ancient god wasn't enough of a test."
Thoth raised his quill, and the glowing tip flared brighter. "Your first trial will be simple, yet profound. A test of heart and creativity."
Before Aimi could protest, the light from the quill enveloped him, and the world shifted again.
---
Aimi found himself back in the same alleyway from the memory Thoth had shown him. It was nighttime, the streetlights casting long shadows across the damp pavement. At his feet, a small plate of food sat untouched.
He looked around, confused. "What is this? A flashback? Did I fail already?"
"No," Thoth's voice echoed faintly, as if coming from the sky itself. "This is your trial. Help the stray."
Aimi frowned. "That's it? Feed the cat? I already do that!"
"It is not about what you do," Thoth replied. "It is about how you do it. Show me the story within the moment."
Aimi sighed, crouching beside the plate. "Alright, kitty. Where are you?"
He heard a soft meow from the shadows. A scraggly black cat with a white patch on its nose peeked out from behind a dumpster. Its eyes glinted warily as it sniffed the air.
"Hey, buddy," Aimi said, keeping his voice low. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."
The cat hesitated, its tail flicking nervously. Aimi picked up the plate and slid it a little closer.
"See? Good food. Gourmet, even," he joked. "Okay, maybe not, but it's better than digging through trash."
The cat edged closer, its nose twitching. Finally, it darted forward, took a bite, and bolted back into the shadows.
Aimi blinked. "Seriously? That's it?"
The world around him shifted again. The alley blurred, replaced by the grand library. Thoth stood before him, arms crossed.
"Well done," the god said.
"Uh, no offense," Aimi said, standing up. "But that felt… kinda pointless. The cat barely stuck around."
Thoth's eyes gleamed. "Did it? Look again."
The air shimmered, and the scene replayed itself in slow motion. This time, Aimi noticed something he hadn't before. As the cat took its bite, a faint, golden glow surrounded it, radiating from its heart. The glow spread outward, lighting up the darkness around it.
"That light," Thoth said, "is the essence of the story you created. A moment of trust, no matter how fleeting. These moments are the threads that weave together the fabric of existence."
Aimi stared at the glowing scene, a strange warmth blooming in his chest. "So… you're saying feeding a stray cat can literally change the world?"
"In ways you cannot yet comprehend," Thoth replied. "But this is only the beginning. Each story, no matter how small, has the power to shape reality. Your task is to uncover these stories and bring them to life."
Aimi looked down at the watch on his wrist, its faint glow now steady and comforting. For the first time, he felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: purpose.
"Alright," he said, meeting Thoth's gaze. "What's next?"
Thoth smiled—a rare, genuine expression. "Your journey begins now, storyteller. Are you ready to write the world anew?"
Aimi took a deep breath, clenching his fists. "Ready as I'll ever be."
The library around him shifted again, the shelves rearranging themselves into an endless horizon of possibilities. Aimi knew he was stepping into something far bigger than himself, but for once, he didn't feel afraid.
He felt alive.
...
The library was silent, save for the faint rustle of unseen pages turning somewhere deep in its infinite expanse. Aimi sat at a desk carved from dark mahogany, its surface gleaming unnaturally under the golden light of floating orbs. In front of him lay a blank parchment and an inkpot that seemed to shimmer with a life of its own. Beside him stood Thoth, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow over Aimi's workspace.
"This," Thoth began, gesturing to the parchment, "is your trial. You are to rewrite a forgotten myth—one that speaks of small acts changing the course of the world. Use your words to breathe life into it again."
Aimi blinked, gripping the quill. "Rewrite a myth? That's it? Sounds easy enough."
Thoth's piercing gaze landed on him, and Aimi immediately regretted his bravado. "Words are not mere symbols, mortal. They carry the power to create or destroy, to inspire or deceive. You will find this task far more challenging than you assume."
Aimi gulped and nodded, dipping the quill into the ink. The instant the tip touched the parchment, the words began to flow—not just onto the page but out into the library itself. A faint hum filled the air, resonating with every stroke of the quill.
---
At first, Aimi was confident.
He scribbled down a tale about a humble farmer who saved his village by sharing his meager harvest with a wandering stranger. The stranger turned out to be a deity in disguise and blessed the village with endless prosperity.
"Done," Aimi declared, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
The parchment shimmered as Thoth examined it. The god's face, unreadable as ever, betrayed no hint of approval. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the parchment burst into flames, dissolving into ash.
"What the hell?!" Aimi yelped, jumping back.
"Your words lack weight," Thoth said simply. "They are hollow, without the substance of truth. Begin again."
Aimi groaned. "This is gonna be a long day."