“My most vivid memory of so-called ‘Elven Egotism’ is when I watched an Elf stop a lecture on magical beasts native to the Verdant Green and begin to give his own talk on the subject, doing so in spite of repeated threats of suspension from the professor he had interrupted. ‘I’d appreciate if you stopped disturbing the rest of the class.’ The Elf had said when the professor’s shouts got too loud, ‘That incorrect nonsense you were spouting about Faux Rabbits shows that it would be best if I finished this lecture. Please have a seat and don’t forget to take notes— there will be a quiz.’”

  — Excerpt from ‘The Outworlder’s Handbook’ by Aegian Castellanos

  —

  Sat in a reading nook much the same as Hindleton’s office, in that it was filled to bursting with an assortment of books, Quinn closed the journal he’d spent the past few hours reading. Leaving it on the table in front of him, he relaxed back into the leather chair nestled in the corner of the room and collected his thoughts.

  The journal, a ragged book with quite a bit of heft to it, was exactly what he needed.

  While he’d only made it about a third of the way through, and some of the info had been a repeat of things he’d learned from his roommates, it had answered questions he hadn’t even thought to ask. It also left him with some things to think about, one of which he had been doing his best not to dwell on since arriving in the city.

  Namely, how did he feel about being stuck here on Locros, and what was he going to do now that he was?

  Upon mulling it over, Quinn was a little surprised to find that he wasn’t entirely dissatisfied with his situation. Magic was real here, and he was going to learn how to use it! Sure, there were downsides— that much was evident from the gnawing emptiness that grew in his chest whenever he thought about the friends and family he wouldn’t see again. At the same time, he knew they would be happy for him.

  Locros was exactly what he’d wanted all his life, with his constant escapism into books and fantasy worlds, and now he had it right at his fingertips.

  Some deep part of him rebelled at his callous attitude, sobs breaking through the cracks in his calm and collected exterior, but the logical part of his brain had become well-practiced at beating those emotions back into submission since his arrival in Hollow and didn’t hesitate to begin doing so. It took several minutes for Quinn to calm himself, but in the end the logical part of his brain triumphed, the dam holding back his emotions once again in working order.

  Content that his inner turmoil was addressed in a completely healthy manner, Quinn wiped away the last of the tears making their way down his cheeks before switching focus to the second, and perhaps more important, of his thoughts.

  What was he going to do in this new world?

  Unlike his feelings about being stuck here, this was something Quinn was more than happy to ponder.

  His initial plan before reading the journal had been simple. He would just sit back and avoid getting into any trouble while he learned at the University. Once he graduated, he could then remain in Hollow and maybe do post-graduate studies like he had heard mentioned as an option. That would keep him busy for years and give him plenty of opportunity to find his place. It honestly wasn’t too different from what he had been doing back on Earth, just with magic instead of engineering. He hadn’t thought that there was anything special about him that he could incorporate into his plans.

  It was some of the advice in Aegian’s journal that made him reconsider.

  ‘It has been my experience that Locros, while similar in many ways to where I come from, is different in just as many ways. I implore you to find those differences and make use of them. If it wasn’t for my knowledge of True-seeing, as well as everyone here’s apparent lack of knowledge regarding it, I never would have survived long enough to reach Hollow and begin my study of magic.

  While being an Outworlder makes you weak with your lack of information about this world, it also comes as a strength in the form of the knowledge of your home.’

  Quinn still wasn’t entirely sure what Aegian meant by ‘True-seeing’, but he had gathered it was the ‘magic’ of Aegian’s home world, Panto. There was a section later in the journal dedicated to it and another about incorporating ‘True-seeing’ into spells, though he planned to wait to read those until he had a firmer grasp on the magic of Locros, no sense getting ahead of himself.

  What he was sure about was that Aegian was onto something, he just needed to figure out what difference there was that he could capitalize on. Hopefully his classes would give him some insight.

  At the thought of class, he paused, before looking at the clock balanced precariously on one of the shelves. Seeing he still had an hour before Aether Control started, he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t missed his class. In fact, with an hour left, he probably had just enough time to go get lunch. He hadn’t eaten that morning, too excited for his first day of classes, so he figured that would be the best course of action.

  Of course, this budding idea was shattered by the dull thud of a book landing on the table right next to where Quinn had placed ‘The Outworlder’s Handbook’. After recovering from his initial shock brought on by its abrupt appearance, he gave it a closer look.

  Upon doing so, Quinn realized it was the same book he had tried to point out to Amadeus earlier that morning. He noted the title he hadn’t been able to make out before, ’The Tome of Most Things’, written in a brilliant gold lettering that almost seemed to glow.

  He furrowed his brows, studying it as it sat there on the table, trying to decipher where it had come from. As he did, a strange thought crossed his mind. It seemed to Quinn that it was eyeing the journal.

  He dismissed that feeling the same instant it washed over him. It was just a book— How could it be eyeing a journal? It didn’t even have eyes. Then again, books also weren’t normally radiating a palpable feeling of hunger either, as this one currently was, so maybe it would be best to throw traditional assumptions about works of literature out the window.

  Quinn pushed that tangent from his mind and shifted focus back to what he should do with it. He was hesitant to touch it, the professor’s words about the dangers of the Restricted Stacks still fresh in his mind, but he also didn’t want to just leave it sitting here unattended. Maybe he could wrap it in clo—

  The book opened its maw and ate Aegian’s journal, derailing his train of thought.

  Quinn squeezed his eyes closed before opening them in what amounted to an exaggerated blink, verifying that he had just seen what he thought he had. Yep. Aegian’s journal was gone.

  The Tome of Most Things rose into the air and a bewildered Quinn, rightly predicting it was about to flee, picked a course of action.

  Prior hesitation to touch it was forgotten as Quinn leaped forward out of his chair, wrapping his arms around the floating book in a bear hug. He hung in the air, suspended by whatever magic was keeping the book afloat, before crashing to the floor a second later, scattering a pile of books in the process.

  The book jerked left and right, shaking Quinn like a dog playing with its favorite toy. Books flew across the room as the chaotic exchange batted aside more of the stacks.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  ”Give me back my book you… you stupid book!” Quinn yelled as he was pinballed through the room. “I need it!”

  The book came to a halt, nearly throwing Quinn free with the sudden stop. It stayed in the air a moment more before gravity reasserted its dominion, bringing it and an aching Quinn crashing down once again.

  Quinn tensed, readying himself for it to start up again, but after several seconds of inaction, he propped himself up against one of the shelves and assessed the book held tightly in his arms.

  ”Can you understand me?” He asked, ignoring the logical part of his brain which told him talking to books was idiotic. Logic also dictated that books couldn’t fly or eat other books, yet his present situation showed that to be a lie.

  To his surprise, he sensed agreement from it.

  ”Then can you give me back my book? If you do, I’ll let you go.” Quinn asked.

  Quinn felt two… concepts… radiate from the book in response, one after the other.

  ‘Shy regret. Desire for freedom.’

  For a brief moment, Quinn wondered at how it was conveying feelings to him, but he resigned himself to the impossibility of this encounter. He should just start assuming the answer to his questions was ‘Magic’ and save himself the headache.

  ”Why not?

  ‘Part of self, Permanent, Inseparable, Intrinsic’ it replied.

  ”Well that’s just great, I needed that journal!” He hissed in frustration.

  ’Potential solution. Trade. Freedom. Demonstration.’ It expressed.

  That took Quinn a second to parse, but he felt he understood what it wanted. ”Okay, but if you try to run away, I’m grabbing you again.”

  Setting the book down in front of him, Quinn waited to see what its ‘demonstration’ entailed. Slowly, it began to shift in size, only stopping once it was the same dimensions he remembered Aegian’s journal as having been. There was then a ripple across its cover as it took on the same ragged appearance Quinn remembered. Reaching down, he opened the book and was amazed to see that it had become a page for page recreation of ‘The Outworlder’s Handbook’ on the inside.

  Quinn closed the cover, satisfied now that the journal wasn’t gone for good. However, there was still the issue of what he was going to do now that it was stuck inside this book.

  ”Now what? Am I just supposed to trust that I’ll be able to find you whenever I need to read more?” He asked. “That’s not going to happen.”

  The book responded in an instant, apparently having foreseen this line of questioning.

  ‘Solution. Companionship. Assistance. Freedom.’

  “You want me to take you with me.” He clarified, thinking it over.

  It made sense to take the book with him, if only because it had Aegian’s journal inside it, but it didn’t sit well with Quinn. The book had been in the Restricted Stacks, and Amadeus had said that they kept dangerous books there. What if it was tricking him? Better yet— Why was it in the Restricted Stacks in the first place?

  “I don’t know, that seems like a bad idea. I think you and I better go find Professor Hindleton. I doubt he’d be happy if he found out I had—“ Quinn stopped as a frantic stream of thoughts flooded his mind from the book, faster than he could keep track of. “Wow, slow down. I can’t keep up.”

  ‘Fear. Distrust. Jailer. Confinement. Deeply held disdain. Mistreatment.’ The book replied at a slower pace.

  Quinn’s heart sank at the obvious distress coming from the book. It did not like being stuck inside the Library and was terrified that Quinn might turn it in. Against his better judgment, he made his decision.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. You can come with me.” He said, “But you have to answer some more questions first.”

  Just because he was going to do this, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do his best to understand what he was getting into.

  ‘Eager agreement.’

  ”Good.” He said, while allowing himself to relax against the bookshelf he had his back to. “ Now, what else can you—“

  The room’s clock, which had by some miracle avoided being knocked from the edge of the bookshelf in the prior struggle, was sent tumbling from its perch by Quinn’s minor adjustment, colliding with his head before finishing its descent to the Library floor where it lay face up.

  Quinn, rubbing at the growing lump on his head and at the end of his mental resolve, proceeded to inform the clock that not only was its mother willing to provide pleasure for coin, but she also was willing to do so at a below-market rate.

  The clock, being a clock, said nothing in response. It did, however, show Quinn the time, which made him sigh in frustration. The hour before class he had initially planned to spend getting food was dwindling. Questions would have to wait until this afternoon’s classes were done.

  ”I’ve got class, but that doesn’t mean this conversation is over!” He said, while pointing his finger at the book like a parent scolding a child. It did a good job appearing chastised. “You are going to sit in my bag and not cause any trouble until I get back to my room, okay? Or else it’ll be right back to the Library for you!”

  Sensing the book's acknowledgment, he scooped it up, placed it into his pack, and slid the strap over his shoulder. Quinn took a look around the thoroughly trashed room and felt a pang of embarrassment about the state he was going to be leaving it in. Telling himself it was the book's fault, Quinn left the room and headed towards the entrance of the Library.

  Before long, the towering shelves of the Open Stacks gave way around him to reveal the rows of reading tables leading up to the front circulation desk, past which lay the exit. The rich color of the wooden tables blended well with the rest of the Library, and the area probably would have felt like a cozy place to read if it wasn’t for the lack of other people.

  It wasn’t shocking, it was the first day of classes and people probably had more important things to do than go to the library. If Quinn had to guess, he’d expect it to start to fill up as the semester progressed.

  As he passed the empty rows and neared the exit, Quinn began to run through the mental map of the University he had started putting together in his head to figure out where to go for his next class. As he reached the doors, however, he sensed the intangible stirring of the air that he recognized as Aether being channeled. This vague sense was then accompanied by the very tangible feeling of walking face-first into a brick wall.

  Quinn, after recovering from the discomfort of slamming into a solid surface at a brisk walk, saw that the brick wall in question was a shimmering wall of… pure force? He wasn’t quite sure if he was being honest— it was certainly magical though. He reached out to examine it more, curious as to its composition, but was interrupted by the clearing of a throat to his right.

  Turning, he saw a bulky man that Quinn would’ve mistaken for a dwarf if it weren’t for his obvious height sitting at the front circulation desk. He wasn’t looking at Quinn, gaze fixed instead on a book that looked comically dainty in the hands of one as large as him.

  ”Gotta sign the ledger if you grabbed a book.” He said in a gruff voice while flipping to the next page, not bothering to look up as he spoke.

  Now, it wasn’t that Quinn hadn’t remembered Professor Hindleton telling him about the ledger earlier– his memory wasn’t that bad. It was just that he hadn’t thought there would be a magical barricade preventing him from leaving the Library if he didn’t sign Tome out.

  In hindsight, he probably should have realized that, but now was not the time to reflect on his short-sightedness.

  The one thing that kept him from falling into a panic about the fact he had just been caught attempting to walk out of the library with a book was the fact that the aid staffing the circulation desk couldn’t seem to care less.

  “Oh, sorry about that!” said Quinn,

  The man’s only acknowledgment of Quinn’s statement was a grunt and a nod towards the ledger sitting on the desk in front of him.

  Thanking whatever force of the universe that was looking after him, Quinn stepped forward and picked up the pen sitting next to the ledger. With a quick hand, he scrawled ‘The Tome of Most Things” and then signed his name in a hasty, illegible, squiggle.

  Setting the pen back down, he looked at the man and, seeing him still absorbed in his book, did a swift retreat towards the exit, this time feeling no welling of Aether as he approached the doors. Swinging open the Library doors, Quinn gave one last look back at the aid, and then hurried to his next class.