Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

There I was. Finding myself face to face with a furball clad in armor, shaking so hard that its platemail generated this constant clattering drone that reminded me of a malfunctioning ultrasonic dishwasher loaded up with nothing but metal silverware.

The armor-clad fox began splaying out its front paws, rearing up its hind paws, and arching its back and torso.

What happened next was an inevitability most pet owners could relate to on an instinctive level.

What happened next… was a release of pure gremlin energy.

[OBJECT INBOUND!]

I watched on, unable to move, frozen not out of panic but out of an overwhelming sense of warmth and giddiness as I saw that streak of shiny silver making a mad-dash straight towards me; patches of red fur occasionally peaking through the crevices that formed in between each successive gallop.

[OBJECT INBOUND!]

I could’ve reacted in time.

But it wasn’t like I needed, nor wanted to.

[PROXIMITY ALERT!]

I’d already accepted my fate.

[IMPACT DETECTED!]

I felt the full force of 40 pounds of fox and platemail slamming right into my chestplate, followed up almost just as quickly by the always welcome feeling of four paw pads trying to gain purchase on my shoulders; haptic feedback doing a good job of relaying that sensation. It was around this time that I instinctively reacted by bringing both of my arms up right in front of my chestplate in a sort of a ‘cradling’ maneuver, prompting the now-cackling fox to simply plompf himself down from my shoulders and into my waiting arms. There, he began inexplicably squirming, the platemail armor he wore continuing to generate that rattly, clinking noise that was the bane of any spacer apartment.

“YOU’RE BACK!” Buddy proclaimed, all the while unabashedly cackling and chuckling in absolute glee. “BACK SO SOON!”

The next half minute was dominated by a constant and unrelenting assault of lungfuls of intense laughter only a fox could manage. Yet as endless as that boundless excitement seemed to be, it eventually came to a stop with a resounding clatter of platemail, as Buddy jumped from my arms and straight onto the drab and dreary floors of gray cobblestone.

“How may I be of assistance for this visit, Cadet Emma Booker?” The fox practically beamed at me, his forepaw making a point to lift up his slitted visor, revealing an excitable little face that managed to exude that on-brand look of polite eagerness that marked his entry back into ‘work mode’.

“Well, first of all…” I began, before lowering myself down to a single knee for one, very specific reason.

To ruffle the red thing’s head through the small gap in his helmet. “... it’s good to see you again, Buddy.” I spoke warmly, causing the library assistant’s hind legs to wobble in place, before finally giving way as he melted into what I could only describe as a happy puddle of fox. I didn’t intend on overstaying that warm greeting though, as I eventually pulled back my hand, causing the fox to almost immediately return to that polite customer service stance; awaiting my answer.

“Well, before we get straight to business, there’s something I need to ask.” I continued, making vague sweeping hand gestures around me at the space that now resembled less of a library and more of an endless labyrinth, or a dungeon. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but last I visited, this place didn’t look like it was in desperate need of some interior redecorating.” I paused, before making a point to pat the little armored fox right on the flat of his helmet. “And I’m certain the last time I saw you, you weren’t geared up for battle either.”

The fox nodded affirmatively at both observations. “Your memories serve you right, Emma!” Buddy yapped out excitedly. Yet that excitement wasn’t destined to last, as his face seemed to darken the moment he started addressing the elephant in the room. “What you see before you is the library’s response to a grave misdeed. A misdeed that has left it scarred, for the first time in many, many years. I am sorry you had to see this, Emma. Especially with it being so soon since your last visit.” The fox apologized, which I responded to with a slow round of reassuring pats.

“Were you hurt?”

The question, whilst simple, seemed to take Buddy by surprise. His eyes grew wide in a genuine look of confusion.

“What?”

“Were you caught up in whatever happened to the library? Were you hurt in the crossfire?”

A small pause punctuated the interaction, as Buddy looked at me, increasingly confused. “Are you inquiring about my physical well being, Cadet Emma Booker?”

I nodded affirmatively.

“I…” The fox tilted his head. “...was unharmed during those transgressions. Though it confuses me why you would wish to inquire about such a thing. I am simply your humble library assistant, one amongst an unfathomable number of others.”

It was my turn to be taken aback by surprise, but whilst Buddy was so quick to disparage himself, I was just as quick in correcting his course.

“You may be right in saying that there are many more like you. But I know for a fact that not a single one of them can replace you, Buddy. You're unique and one of a kind.” I immediately corrected the fox. “You’re my one and only buddy here.” I booped his snoot for good measure, before returning to standing height. “And just for the record, you’re more than just a library assistant to me. You’re my buddy, Buddy.” I spoke with a smile behind the helmet.

Buddy didn’t respond for a few more seconds, his mouth now hanging agape, and his whole form unflinching. It was as if someone had decided to divide by zero deep within the poor thing’s head. Whatever the case was, he eventually recovered from it seamlessly, as he took a few tentative steps closer towards my legs, and began nudging it affectionately and wordlessly.

I simply let this exchange happen, not wanting to interfere, as Buddy did eventually pull back on his own volition.

“You grace me with the respect of a peerage I truly do not deserve.” Buddy responded with a genuine look of not just excitement or giddiness, but contentment. “Thank you.”

A few eyes poked from the eerie darkness that surrounded the room like a hazy fog, similar to my first encounter with Buddy a few days ago. It was around the same time I noticed them, that Buddy shifted course back to the business at hand. “So! How may I be of assistance, Emma?”

The whole exchange was over before I could even process what had happened. But whilst it left me with a lot of questions about Buddy himself, I just felt like it wasn’t the right time to press the topic. He seemed comfortable enough to move on, and I respected that.

“I’m here for a very specific purpose actually.”

No sooner did I announce my intentions, did Buddy’s eyes dart towards Thacea.

“Well, when I meant I, I sort of meant we.” I gestured to the both of us. “We’re sort of a package deal.” I could feel Thacea’s eyes landing on me as quickly as I said that, which prompted me to crane my head towards her sheepishly, before quickly turning back to Buddy in order to quickly expand upon that statement. “At least when it comes to these library visits, I mean.” I spoke with a nervous chuckle.

Buddy nodded understandingly, before urging me to continue with a single head bob.

“Right, so, we’re here to inquire about Minor Shards of Impart. More specifically, I want to know what they are, how they work, and where we can find them. Related information on the Nexus’ Status Communicatia, at least as it pertains to the Minor Shards of Impart, is appreciated as well.” I stated my aims without once missing a beat. Whilst the latter topic wasn’t explicitly necessary, it was still relevant enough that it didn’t hurt to ask.

I knew that Thacea had already provided me with more than an extensive rundown on it, but I also knew that her knowledge was ultimately limited to what her realm had access to. Which inevitably meant it was limited to what the Nexus had explicitly allowed to trickle down to them.

The library’s explanation would be a good benchmark to see just how accurate her intel was, and if there were any convenient gaps that were intentionally left out by the Nexus.

I definitely didn’t intend for the line of questioning to be a slight against Thacea, but it was clear she might not have taken it in stride as I saw her immediately side-eying me as soon as those words left my vocoder.

Buddy’s reactions however, were starkly different to how I’d expected things to go. “Hmm.” He began, placing a paw against the ‘chin’ of his helmet. “And what would you wish to trade for this information, Emma?”

Perhaps the owl’s little lesson and pep talk had truly rubbed off on Buddy, as it was business from the get-go now, rather than the rambunctious and overexcitable generous offerings of Buddy’s initial ‘transaction’.

It was at this point that I realized the true meaning behind Ilunor’s, or rather Mal’tory’s, fear of the information disparity that I presented. As idea after idea began pouring their way into my head.

I felt like a kid in a candy store with how much I had to trade.

Or keeping more in the spirit of things, like a loot-gremlin having returned to town with all the useless items she could carry.

I could literally trade huge swathes of junk data, to accrue whatever library credit existed for this intel.

And I was about to do just that.

“Within my repositories lies tens of billions of never before seen works of art and literature, hundreds of millions of unheard of musical compositions, and an abundance of information on the cultural arts. I am ready to trade a great number of them, as much as the library believes is fair.” I began, beaming out a constant smile all the while.

It quickly became clear to me however that that smile and excitability wasn’t as infectious as I thought. As Buddy merely stared at me with a decidedly worried, apprehensive expression. “I am afraid that won’t be possible Emma, at least not as it pertains to the topics pending inquiry.” Buddy whined out, as he pawed at the ground beneath his paws in a series of nervous strokes. “It seems as if the time has come to finally divulge what the library wishes for me to divulge. To make up for the responsibilities that I’d initially overlooked following the closure of our first transaction. Because whilst the Librarian has outlined the rules of the library to you, the Axioms of Trade, or the Rules of Transaction, were never truly disclosed. At least not explicitly.” He admitted, before turning towards the inky darkness behind him, one that had ominously moved in closer and closer, now completely obscuring the hall he’d previously taken to get here. “I hope you’ll allow me to elaborate, to ensure all parties understand what is expected of them.”

Yet as soon as that wall of darkness reached us, it stopped, forming what I could only describe as a bookshelf, one that grew larger and larger until it took up most of the visible space behind the fox.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 1000% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

“The principles of transaction are simple. There are three critical axioms which govern it.” Buddy began, his voice shifting dramatically from that squeaky happy-go-lucky one to something more… formal, almost too formal for the fox I knew. “The first is Category.” The books on the bookshelf behind the fox began glowing in different colors, so many in fact that the EVI had to step in to highlight the differences between each one. “The second is Weight.” The books began rattling in place now, as several of the same color-coded spines were brought out, now hovering in the air. “And the third is Veracity.” Nothing happened at that last rule, at least not as far as I could tell.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 1000% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

Though, it was clear this was probably a mana-stream thing, as Thacea began shaking in place, her winged arms wrapping themselves around her as she shivered uncontrollably.

“Category.” Buddy repeated, his voice slowly being enveloped by an eerie, chorus of other voices, as I saw hundreds, if not thousands more eyes poking through from the darkness. “Definition: the classification of information into divisions, sections, and classes utilizing subject-matter as a tool for delineation. Do you have any queries on this point, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”

All eyes were now focused on me, including Buddy’s. His gaze was way more intense than it ever was before.

I should’ve felt intimidated, and whilst I was, I couldn’t let the overbearing eeriness of the whole scene get to me. I knew full well this wasn’t a Nexian game, but rather, a library matter. This was the library trying its best to bridge the information gap, to be as earnest as possible in ways completely alien to typical sensibilities. “Yes, I actually do.” I began. “So if I’m getting this right, Category implies that different types of information go into different… well, categories for lack of a better term. So for example, a book or a chapter on the topic of a mana-based city-destroying bomb will be categorically different from say… a fictional novel on the life of a security guard working at a garishly themed restaurant haunted forever by the souls of its murdered victims?”

The latter statement seemed to catch a few eyes off-guard, including Buddy’s as he visibly cocked his head, before falling back in line with the rest of the chorus. “Correct.” They all spoke, as color-coded books glowed in unison, as if to reiterate the point. “Are there any further lines of inquiry on this rule?”

“So information being traded has to fit into the same category? So you can’t trade, say, ten volumes of that fictional novel I mentioned for a mana-based city-destroying bomb?”

“Correct.”

“How about ten thousand volumes?”

“The answer remains unchanged. Are there any further lines of inquiry on this rule?”

…

“How about a million?”

Several small beady eyes began darting back and forth between one another in the inky darkness. Not so much in deliberation, as much as in confusion and genuine surprise, as if they weren’t expecting there to be that many works of cultural art I had access to on-hand.

Not especially on such an obscure subject matter.

But humanity has been nothing if not busy in creating anything and everything on every topic imaginable, especially in the realm of fiction.

“The answer remains unchanged. Are there any further lines of inquiry on this rule?”

“Yeah, who determines the nuanced differences in categories? What if two topics are very close to one another?”

“The library, or the Librarian.”

Of course.

“Are there any further lines of inquiry on this rule?”

“No.”

“Very well, moving on.” The voices spoke in unison, before opening several of the floating books they’d pulled from the shelves earlier, revealing within them illegible scribbles of varying fonts and lengths. Despite not being able to make out what was written, the differences between what was being shown was clear. Certain books had large fonts with barely any words written in them at all, whilst others were packed dense with information, complete with diagrams, illustrations, and pictures that made no sense to me or the EVI. It was clear they were showing all of these to illustrate a point. “Weight. Definition: the significance and value of any given information based upon its quantity, quality, and density. Do you have any queries on this point, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”

I nodded, raising my hand up as if I was in the middle of a lecture. “So, basically, what you’re saying is what’s being traded has to have the same amount or density of information as what’s being requested? So there has to be some sort of an equivalence when it comes to what’s requested and how much is given in return during a transaction?”

“Correct. Are there any further lines of inquiry on this rule?”

“So, going back to my previous example. Suppose I request for say… a Nexian murder mystery novel, does that mean that my aforementioned novel would be sufficient for that transaction?”

“A word for a word, a paragraph for a paragraph, a book for a book, an anthology for an anthology…” The chorus paused, as they once more turned to one another to deliberate on their next answer. With an audible sigh, and a series of nervous murmurs, they continued. “... a million novels, for a million novels. Are there any further lines of inquiry on this rule?”

“Yeah, a big one actually. The last transaction I made at the library didn’t actually involve these draconian rules. I didn’t trade anything I felt was equivalent to the null with you guys. Not in category, and not even in weight. So, I’m curious as to how the rules applied to that?”

This question definitely got the army of foxes thinking, but no sooner did the instant-responses go silent did the silent space suddenly fill the sound of rustling feathers, this was followed sharply by a series of hoots and the emergence of a massive shadow looming overhead, before finally, revealing none other than the librarian himself.

“Librarian.” I nodded respectfully in greetings.

“Cadet Emma Booker.” The owl did the same, his tone more or less matching my own.

“I’m assuming you wanted to address this question yourself.”

“Indeed I do, Cadet Emma Booker.” The owl nodded, all the while, taking a few short moments to land softly upon Buddy’s armored head. “But for the purposes of this dialogue, I first must ask, do you know what the library is?”

“Yeah, I do. I was informed it’s not just a neat little collection of books, an institution, or an organization in the typical sense. It’s an entity, a living, breathing being in its own right.”

The owl tentatively dipped his head, not so much nodding, as much as partially accepting that answer. “These presuppositions are acceptable enough to proceed.” He spoke through a series of careful, methodical, hoots. “The library is, as you may have already gathered, not omnipotent. Yet by that very same metric, neither is it comparable to anything within the mortal plane. It is removed from such things, yet undeniably connected to it by virtue of its goals. This is why it decided to act the way it did on that fateful day. This was why at face value, it might have seemed to have foregone the Axioms of Trade with its first interactions with you.”

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 1000% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

I suddenly felt the whole room shake, as the impossibly large bookshelf behind Buddy suddenly gave way, leading to a literal hallway of books. The walls of which abruptly, and without warning, flew by us, running parallel to us like two subway trains flanking a central platform; the speed of which blew Thacea’s feathers into a ruffled mess.

“For you see Cadet Emma Booker, the library despite its boundless wisdom, despite its worldly knowledge, despite its ethereal insight, despite all that it has experienced… could simply not make heads or tails of you.” The ‘walls’ of books flew by faster and faster, as if trying desperately to reach some unknown destination, or more accurately, in search of knowledge that simply wasn’t there. “For in the boundless eons that it has stood, from scantily a tent in the middle of the untamed plains, to the grand spire you see before you, it has never, ever encountered a being such as you.”

The walls suddenly, and inexplicably, came to a stop. Reaching what seemed to be a surprisingly uniform collection of books. All of which were bound with a familiar hue of blue.

“A being clad in armor completely resistant to mana.” The librarian concluded. “This novelty inevitably brings with it complications. For it prompts the one, final, yet just as critical component of the Axioms of Trade to become all but an impossibility. I am of course talking about the final piece to the trifecta. Veracity.”

That last word reverberated throughout the room, as the owl, the foxes, and even Buddy spoke in unison in that same, echoey, otherworldly voice.

“Definition: the authenticity and credibility of any given knowledge, ascertained by the ebbs and flows of the mana stream, and by the reading of the mind at the moment of transaction.”

“For you see, Cadet Emma Booker, your mere existence prevents the fulfillment of this final axiom. The library, and indeed all of its aides, simply could not determine anything about your mana-streams, let alone the mind hidden underneath that helm. With this third axiom unfulfilled, trade ceases to be a possibility.”

“And yet here I am.” I announced at the tail end of the owl’s explanations. “Card in tow.” I pulled out my card, clinking it against my helmet. “And intel in hand.”

“And for very good reason, Cadet Emma Booker. The library is nothing if not astute in its observations. It understands well the inconsistencies that arise from the nature of your very existence. It grasps the significance of a mana-less being in a mana-resistent suit. It finds that a distressingly large gap exists between the existence of your presence, your metals, your mathematics, your sophistication, and the manner in which you attained it. It understands that it sees just the tip of the iceberg, and thus, realizes that there exists a wealth of knowledge lying in wait beneath the surface. To deny the possibility of trade due to the lack of the third axiom… would be refutation of its sole purpose, and would be a contradiction of the first and third rules of the library. As a result, it wished to engage in trade without the third axiom. It instead chose to rely not on the word of the patron, but on the irrefutable truths garnered through observable phenomena.”

The owl gestured towards Buddy, using a talon to boop his snoot. “That is why your Buddy was allowed to utilize all manner of senses to draw from, to determine the physical properties of your armor. That is why I had scrutinized the odd and idiosyncratic nature of your speech, finding beneath it a mathematical construct advanced beyond measure. That is why it was noted time and time again how your very presence was enough to facilitate trade. As these pieces of information were objective and observable, and thus their veracity was self-evident by virtue of their existence.”

So that’s what it was. The library was trying to find any way possible to trade with me. It was scrambling, probing and feeling for any way to facilitate fair trade without the ability to read minds. So it landed on good old empirical observation.

It’s kind of funny how it landed on one of the fundamentals of the scientific process when dealing with a representative of a world of science.

Still, that doesn’t entirely line up with one sticking point…

“But that doesn’t address my initial question.” I shot back. “Sure, the library was able to extrapolate all of that new knowledge from my very presence. But how was that knowledge in any way in the same category or weight as the null and all of the other related questions I had?”

The owl… smiled. I didn’t know why, or for what reason, but as soon as that question left my vocoder, it seemed even more engaged than it was before. “To put it simply, Cadet Emma Booker… they were not. Or rather, the categorical equivalence that could traditionally be drawn, was stretched. As I have stated, trade in the traditional sense would have nominally been an impossibility. All transactions on that fateful day were-” The owl paused, his eyes peering upwards, towards nothing the EVI or its cameras could detect. However, given how fixated his eyes were on this empty patch of space, it was clear he was looking at something. “-a trial. A trial to see if trade was even possible given the lack of the third axiom. Determining Category and Weight are decidedly simple. Veracity, however, was a sticking point that needed to be resolved. Thus, the former two issues were temporarily waived, to facilitate the determination of the possibility of the latter.”

“So the library was playing fast and loose with the rules?”

“Rules exist in response to a reality that is known, Cadet Emma Booker. Should that reality change, the rules must adapt to fit that new reality. For the library is eternal-”

“For the library is eternal.” The voices of a thousand foxes once more filled the space, echoing the owl’s statement.

“-and in order to be eternal, one must evolve.”

I paused for a moment, taking into consideration everything so far.

The library, once again, was demonstrating itself as a complete other to the Nexus’ status quo. It was actively acknowledging the nature of my existence and what that meant for its worldview. However, unlike the Nexus, it wasn’t resisting those changes. In fact, it actively adapted to them, trying everything it could to do so seamlessly.

It wasn’t just another Nexian construct, committed to the rules that it followed and bent on a whim for malicious aims.

Instead, it was its own being. One that adapted and evolved to service one, singular purpose: to collect information, and nothing more.

In a way, it was refreshingly honest.

Especially as it still attempted to play fair.

Which I could definitely respect.

“So with all that being said, I’m assuming that the three rules now apply to me? The library’s now set on how it wants to move forward with future transactions?” I clarified, to which the owl nodded once in response.

“Correct, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“So, the first two rules, Category and Weight, apply to this transaction?”

“Correct.”

“And I’m assuming you have something in mind for Veracity.”

“Correct. Henceforth, the library shall utilize a model of objective interpretation when it comes to transactions involving your patronage. Except, of course, for records of culture, history, and works of fiction.”

“So to put it simply, you want me to show proof for the stuff I have to trade.”

“Correct.”

I breathed in deeply, nodding all the while.

The owl took this lull in the conversation to move forward with my inquiry. “Are there any points you require clarifying, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“No.”

“Then let us proceed.”

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 1000% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

The whole room shifted once more, the darkness that had surrounded us receded quickly, along with the impossible bookshelf that flanked our sides. However, instead of returning to that stark dungeon aesthetic, the library… librarian… or whatever was in charge of the changes was opting instead to return to the library as it had been before the remodeling. Gone were the stark grays and blacks, replaced instead by solid blocks of white, warm wood grain accents, and most welcome of all, the ominous windows pouring light in from an endless white abyss. “Your inquiry was on the topic of Minor Shards of Impart, more specifically, what they are, how they work, and where they can be found. Related information on the Status Communicatia as it pertains to the Minor Shards of Impart, is a secondary addendum. Is that correct, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“Yes.”

“And what would you wish to trade for this information?”

I let out a long breath, prodding around my brain for something that might be equivalent enough for the library to accept.

Something that was in a similar Category.

Something that had enough Weight.

Something that I could prove right here and now.

I reached for my helmet’s side, if only to find my hand bonking off of the side of it, flicking one of the sensor antennae in the process.

That’s when it hit me.

"How would you like to know about the concept of 'radio’?"