Fernweh {Discontinued}

[Chapter 17]

Rubbing your eyes, you shook your wrist for the time. It was already noon and your eyes couldn't handle anymore reading. You yawned without restraint and stepped off the ladder. Partially filled bookshelves surrounded you as they reached to the ceiling. Markers of colored tape and dividers guided you in the job you had been given.

After agreeing to work with Hope, both of you walked to the library. Zexion was nowhere in sight but Hope had explained that he was in a deeper level of the archives. You had imagined behind the large doors, you had saw earlier this morning, that there would be a grand library. You had entered the library expecting floors filled with bookshelves and tables to study on. You were picturing a library with books of different worlds and origins.

Instead you were met with a few rows of tables with keyboards implanted into the tabletop. The only books you saw were at a small corner under a sign that read 'Fiction'. There were a few openings in a wall that reminded you of the windows bank tellers would work behind. Next to those openings was another secured door.

Hope began to explain how the library worked. He must have seen your look of disappointment because of the suppressed smile he had on.

'Most of the books are available electronically and for download. If you want to read from a physical copy than you could ask one of the staff to go retrieve it from the archives, which are located underground. More than half of the books are considered very valuable so aren't available for checkout but you can arrange an appointment to view the book past this door.'

Past the door was a large room that you considered a bit more cozier than the bright lights of the other room. This room actually resembled a library with the numerous bookshelves in long rows. At parts it would resemble a private study. The lighting was dim with lanterns and lamps scattered around, usually situated next to a comfy piece of furniture. There was even a fireplace in one corner that you couldn't help stare at.

After admiring the place, Hope guided you towards a door that lead down a set of stairs to another room of endless rows. This is when he explained that the lower the level, the higher the value of the books stored. This is also where he began to explain what you were going to help with.

The walls opposite of the empty bookshelves had stacks of books. Some as thin as a folder. Some large enough to challenge your old textbooks. Some had hard covers and you were sure you saw one with fur.

You were going to act as a librarian and arrange all the books according to the label located on the spine. Hope then piled some books on a cart and gave you a crash course on how things were arranged. After registering your bracelet as a librarian, he left to work on the lower levels.

'If you need anything, just give a shout down the stairs.'

With that, he left you to your work.

It was rather easy work but a little physically demanding. All you did was load books onto your cart climb the ladder with piles in your hand, organize, climb down, and go to another aisle. It was simple and not as complex as you thought it would be. There were time that you would get distracted but that only occured sometimes when you would get lost in the pages of a book.

And by sometimes, you meant with every other book you picked up.

You would open a book and not understand a word but still flip through it. There were some with such beautiful illustrations that the pictures themselves told the story. At times you really wished you could understand what was on some pages but there was no chance of you deciphering the language.

Along with these distractions, the repetitiveness and ease of the job had you so entranced that you hadn't noticed how much time had past.

You wheeled the cart to the end of the aisle not sure whether you were hungry or just sleepy from the work. Piling on the next books, you were beginning to feel a bit on edge. You continued to work until you finally turned around. The looming shadow in the corner sent the book in your hands falling and a muffled scream to pass your lips.