Chapter 27: 27. The dusty archive

The inside of the ruins was both dark and disconcertingly dusty. I was glad my replica puppet had no need to breath in air. If it had then just entering the ruins would have caused it to start coughing uncontrollable. There was dust on everything it could see, its vision piercing straight through the dark. Night vision and a slow swaying slither guided me - my puppet - across the room. 

Moss, and weeds, grew within the walls. Unlit torches lay about on the ground, abandoned and forgotten. There was nothing else in the room that hinted at its purpose. For all I knew it could've been someone's living space or a prison, left unfurnished in the face of some sort of disaster. It could even have been an incredibly creepy waiting room. A theory that seemed slightly more plausible as I beheld the next room. 

Stone stairs led down to a massive library lit with white crystals that hung from the ceiling. Books stacked upon each other lined shelves that rose as high as the ceiling. I stared in awe at it all as I slithered about freely, certain the ruins were empty. Almost without thought my puppets hands reached out and grabbed a book. 

A brief study of the Histolan empire, the title read. The depths of magic, was another. I cracked book after book open and took a quick peek inside each before putting them back on their shelves. From shelf to shelf I slithered, checking their contents. One was full of bizarre and otherworldly fiction. Another was a mass archive of a cultivators life and many of the techniques he created. I was lost in a sea of knowledge and knew that it would all come with me once I was finished exploring the rest of what the ruins had to offer. 

Like a prize found in a chest, waiting to be taken. 

An almost greedy smile crept onto my face as I imagined going through each book at a later date. All but one, that is. There was a single book that caught my puppet's eye, one that called out to me with a gentle insistence. Like it was politely knocking on the walls of my mind, waiting for me to open the door. 

I grabbed the book. It felt warm in my hands, like a little fire was burning inside of it. Slowly, cautiously, I opened it and almost flinched away when a wave of essence pulsed out from it. The wave came a second time, then a third, on the fourth I dropped it. The book had suddenly become heavy and without much consideration I let it fall to the floor.

It hit the ground like any book would. Opening mid-fall and landing with all the agility of a brick. Oh, and it sounded like someone had clapped rather loudly. 

But after it hit the ground it changed. Hands reached out from inside and pulled the book open wide. Wider and wider until the head of an old man stuck itself out of the first page. His face warped and contorted as it came out, settling on a smile once his neck was free. My puppet watched without reaction, while my actual body was making a face at seeing something so unpleasant, even if it was by proxy. 

Uncaring of the display he was putting on, the old man climbed out of the book one limb at a time. His smile growing wider and crazier as he further freed himself. It was disturbing and I sighed in relief when it finally came to an end. 

The old man leaned forward after getting his freedom. The way his brown robes fit him suggested he was thin, and uncomfortably so. I tried to ignore that as he stood back up, cleared his throat, and turned towards me. His eyes ignored my false form and stared into the windows of my puppet, straight at me. 

Essence poured through the window. It was gentle and strong, caring for a moment and destructive in the next. The essence probed me, seeking a way past the defense of my own essence. Essence that, at my command, surged forth and buried the old man's essence beneath an unending torrent. The difference in our quality of essence ceased to matter as I let mine flow forth, my massive size and 'colorful' diet allowing me to contain a monstrous amount of essence. 

It was enough to make the old man back down and reconsider whatever he was considering. 

"Ah, I see. Forgive me your majesty I didn't realize I was in the presence of royalty." The old man bowed. "Please allow me to introduce myself, I am custodian and Guardian of this most ancient library. Keeper of its ancient texts, Greag." 

My puppet, completely incapable of speech, blankly stared at the custodian. The awkwardness of the situation was palpable. But after a moment of continued silence the custodian seemed to realize that my puppet was incapable of speech. He turned and gestured for it to follow behind him as he walked off, disappearing behind a shelf. 

Silently, my puppet followed and caught a few seconds later. For two minutes my puppet and the old man walked through the library, his eyes remained on the path ahead of him while my puppet looked around with unrestrained curiosity. Every book we passed looked ancient to me, as if they had survived here for hundreds of years - picking up dust all the while. It made me wonder how long had it been since someone last visited this place. 

Probably years, I realized. 

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"Here we are your majesty." The custodian said as he came to a sudden stop. He reached out and plucked a green book from off one of the shelves. Then he handed it to my puppet. "I do believe this book will suit you well, your highness." 

As soon as my puppet grabbed the unnamed book, I felt the essence that lingered within. It was, no doubt, hundreds of years old. Yet the book looked just as good as if it were new, perfectly preserved aside from some dust that could be found on every book and shelf. 

I had my puppet place the book within its expansive cleavage and turn to leave. It slithered through the aisles of the library back towards the exit. But, halfway there, a shadow descended upon my puppet. I sensed it before my puppet saw it and took control immediately, forcing my puppet to dodge backwards. A scythe landed where my puppet had been milliseconds prior, held by a tall fiend on a black cloak. 

The cloak draped around the figure and fell to the ground. Sticking out of the hood was the skull of a crow with two purple flames for eyes. Those flames turned towards my puppet and charged forward. 

His hands vanished and a scythe swung out from behind. 

I let my puppet fall forward onto its middle, narrowly avoiding the strike, and then made it shoot out a wave of thorns from its hands in response. They hit nothing, harmlessly passing through the assassin as he transformed into black smoke. He reappeared a step forward, scythe again in his hand, and swung down. The weapon arced through the air towards my puppets head, a deadly essence coating the blade. 

It was stopped by a black stone that appeared out of nowhere. I looked back and saw the custodian frowning at us. 

"Take it outside. This is a place of learning." He snarled. 

And to my surprise the assassin actually listened - vanishing away in black smoke. The moment he was gone I severed my connection to my puppet and ordered it to stay where it was. A second later the assassin appeared on the roof of the ruins, right above the entrance. 

"HI." I smiled. And before he reacted I shot a giant thorn at him. 

It was too slow and a full second before it would have hit him he turned to smoke. At the same time I pulled on his essence, targeting him with the full effect of my ability to drain. The results were magnificent. He tumbled out of his smoke form and rolled to the side off the roof, barely avoiding the tail end of the thorn. 

He landed on his feet, hidden from my line of sight by my own massive curves. I leaned forward on those same curves, crushing everything in front of me. For a fleeting moment I felt the assassin beneath my enormity, crushed beneath an unendurable mountain of softness. Something popped and he vanished. Only to appear on my back a moment later. 

Vines and everything else that had begun to grow on my back reached out for him. An incomplete forest of toxins, venoms, and poison that was possibly my greatest defense. 

The assassin cut and hacked his way through it with nothing but his scythe, every attack infused with essence. He danced atop me as a flowing messenger of death. But for every shred of life he cut down, I repurposed into a puppet and used my essence to speed its regrowth. Flowers multiplied and thorn covered vines grew thick with strength. Scales shot up into the sky as unleashed my full arsenal against him, idly watching as he avoided it all. 

A puppet grabbed him, halting his dance for a moment. He turned to smoke and was immediately forced to turn back to normal as I pulled at his essence. Then, as he recovered and got back on his feet, I reached back and slammed my hand down. 

He wasn't fast enough to escape. 

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