If Cira learned anything above all else during class today, it was that she was an even worse teacher than she thought. Cira could hardly muster an hour for her students, and even if she had, there were serious doubts in her mind that she could have packed as much knowledge in as Eliza had. It was clear that woman had been doing it for a long time.

  After kicking everyone out at the end of class, Eliza resumed her role as Cira’s guide, and they set off to the library. Or more specifically, the Archive. This was located on an entirely different islet, though there were evidently multiple entrances. Cira didn’t know how that worked when each islet moved throughout the day, but she was here to trust the process. It didn’t much matter so long as books ended up in her hand.

  And this brought them to a small little chunk of earth on the outer ring overlooking the vast sky. There was a single room of fanciful wooden construction and inside was a pretty typical lobby. A few empty benches and paintings lined the windowless walls and at the center stood a solid doorway. The frame seemed to be engraved with sorcerous script of some kind, but the characters shifted too fast for her to read. Still, she could feel power coming from this door.

  Something in her gut told her not to take it lightly, so despite seeing that there was nothing on the other side of the door but the ground outside, Cira held her tongue.

  “Are you ready?” Eliza asked with a giddy smirk.

  “Ready as rain, I suppose.” She watched Eliza place her palm on the door and promptly disappear. “Huh.”

  This reminded her of the door to Breeze Haven’s treasury, so she placed her hand upon the door and channeled mana as she would there. In an instant, her surroundings changed, and she found herself in a room with no doors—only bookcases. About six on each wall, floor to ceiling, to form a square room. Inside were a few low rows of bookshelves then a table in the middle which Eliza sat atop.

  “Interesting… A pocket realm?” Cira tried spreading a spatial domain, but the Archive rejected her perception. “It’s a little smaller than I expected.”

  “Psh.” Eliza fired back with a laugh, “You merely lack the wisdom to comprehend its depths.”

  “…” Cira narrowed her gaze, approaching the table to the aroma of paper and ink. “Whatever you say. Don’t tell me that Daedalus guy made this place too? And isn’t it supposed to be lost? The archive wasn’t all too hard to find. What is the point of this Third Order of yours if it’s right here?”

  “Good grief, all these books and you still seek answers from me?” Eliza chuckled, but realized Cira was not going to relent. With a sigh, she continued, “I suppose I do at least owe you an introduction. No one, not even Daedalus could create something like this place. It would be more accurate to call it a naturally occurring pocket realm—though it has no bounds and expands consistently. You know not its depths, but neither does anyone here, truly. The path has been lost to time. Only by contributing our own knowledge and discoveries can we unlock the extents of the Archive. That is the purpose of the Third Order. Believe it or not, the doorway you walked in through was once lost. We found it encased at the bottom of a volcanic island inside a veritable glacial of black glass. The other four we possess were found in a similar way, and there are supposedly many more across the sky which will all lead you right here. You will rarely run into outsiders, but it does happen. The books are indeed organized, but it may change based on the individual. Sometimes the archive will deprive you of knowledge or lead you straight to it. Just be careful while you’re in here, okay?”

  Cira was already eyeing the closest bookcase as she nodded to Eliza, “Okay, I think I got it.” She got up and knelt in front of it. She couldn’t even pick them up with sorcery—something about this place disallowed it. She had to peruse the old-fashioned way. This was not unpleasant for Cira in and of itself, but there was a particular title staring her in the face, bound to a spine of deep black.

  ‘KAZALI’, it read. Cira gulped, fending off a cold sweat. If I don’t even have the nerve to read a book with his name, how will I ever face him? She slid the book from its place and opened up the cover. There was no author noted, only the title of the book again.

  “Kazali…” Cira clenched a fist and turned the page with the other. “Bastard.”

  “The story of Kazali begins at the dawn of time.” Huh… Cira did not like the sound of that, but read on nonetheless, “From the death of Yore did the world spring. Void gave way to space, as did light from darkness. For all but nothing to exist required not only order, but a rigid system of circumstance for this world to form upon. Reality cannot exist subject to chaos, and such energy was jettisoned to the aethereal plane. While this was the first law, this was not intelligent design, no. Merely the natural course in Yore’s wake. Following this separation, the first true life lived long and died, forgotten yet not removed. Humanity and its furthest depths gave rise in the following era, and the laws which have gradually accumulated through this budding world could not resist the pull of life.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Cira had her back against the bookcase and decided to stand up and take a seat at the table. She needed a minute to catch her breath, “Man… what the hell am I reading? What does this have to do with my false fath—” Cira realized she was alone. Eliza had disappeared at some point. It almost seemed the room itself had changed. Identical enough, she swore it was long instead of wide now. Hmm…

  “One such law is Caus—caus what…?” There was a blank space finishing the word and Cira could only assume it was meant to read ‘causality’. “Through predicting events and the ripples they form, Caus___ could take adv___ of ___ factors to direct the flow of time and hand-pick constants from among variable events. Over many ___ of years, his authority grew throughout countless contiguous skies, and his influence had reach enough to wrap the world. While life prospered, ___ and ___, to the point where ___ he ___ If only___ just___ wherein Kazali—gah! This is infuriating!”

  Cira threw the book down and it faded into light. “Why is so much missing?!” To say she was frustrated would be the understatement of the ___. After finally working up the courage to learn as much as possible about that bastard, Cira was denied. To ignore the anger she felt, the next few books were picked at random. Each one tossed aside the moment it revealed blank spaces. Still, she learned a little.

  Causality and the other primordial demons were really just laws manifested. Laws of course being rigid concepts which direct substance and events. As the first life was snuffed out, it spread throughout the world. Nothing which existed could completely resist its influence. This is how wind elementals came to be, or islands like Lazulei. Likewise, laws gave way to a being with such infallible power the rest of the world considered them demons of unchecked authority.

  There was evidently a school of thought that worried what state the world would be in if the primordial genocide hadn’t happened. If so many demons ruled each sky, would humanity even have such freedom as it does now?

  She was not interested in sympathizers, so the next book was titled, “Known Surviving Demons of the Primordial Genocide”. Strangely enough, each name held a particular color—quite vivid to the last. ‘Gravity’ shimmered with the same inconsistency as space, while ‘Circadian’ shimmered with the uncertainty of twilight. ‘Victory’ pervaded a triumphant crimson like still blood in dawn’s light, but a particular color caught her eye. She couldn’t help but focus in on the section.

  “Continuance.” The text was written a blue so pale one may mistake it for moonlight. “Range of authority includes the proliferation and preservation of kin, scaling with descendant biomass and reverence of kin. This demon survived the primordial genocide by sacrificing almost eighty percent of her offspring to ensure survival for herself and the remaining members of her ancient bloodline.

  “Known aliases: Kontina, Tinuana, Mistress Konu, Kani, Connie—” Cira continued grazing over the text. She wished she asked the demon herself more, because the contents here were surprisingly scarce. It was mostly about the history of her and her kin, but her powers weren’t so clear. There were a few sections where the tome brushed upon her feats, but they were riddled with blank spots. They even started appearing right before her eyes as she tried to focus on the next sentence. “What the hell is with this place?!”

  Cira threw the book back to the shelf it came from, and it faded away. She had never been so upset within a library. The breadth of knowledge at her fingertips seemed restricted by a force she couldn’t even understand, and it made her feel like a stupid child again.

  “Fine then. I’ll just come back… later…” Cira turned around, then again. No matter how many times she looked, there was no exit. “Whatever this is… I have not come to play games, Archive.”

  Without a second thought, she appeared in the garden of Breeze Haven. Safe and sound minus a healthy chunk of mana.

  “Dammit! What kind of library stops you from reading, then from even leaving? This is absurd!” Cira was about ready to pull her hair out as she ripped an apple from its branch instead and conjured a mug of ale at the garden table. Settling in, Nina was already there with arms cross in judgment. “Oh, please. It’s been a long day.” An orange imploded across from Cira, pouring its concentrate into a small glass for the nymph.

  After refreshments, Cira knew where she had to go. To a person from whom she could demand answers, of course. Suddenly she was standing in a classroom with her arms crossed, about to go off on a tirade when she noticed students in nearly every seat—all of which she recognized.

  In her pause, Eliza spoke with mild exasperation, “Of course, I worried for nothing.” She let it go with a sigh.

  “Hm…? What’s there to worry about? I’m the one who’s upset.” The library’s cruel ways left her heart in tumult, so the depth of confusion Eliza was experiencing paled in comparison.

  “My apologies, class. I must take a moment to speak with Young Cira.” Eliza nodded to her students while some laughed and some showed impatience. Scarce few displayed concern.

  “I lost sight of you the moment you opened that book…” Eliza fluttered her lashes and rolled her eyes, “But I see you found your way back. Whatever was in that book anyway?”

  “That cur Kazali’s history, but the damn archive cut me off.” Despite the confusion and inquisitive stares of everyone she met the other day, Cira had to get to the bottom of this, “Why was everything disappearing? The stupid books turned to dust in my fingers!”

  Irate as she was, Eliza only chuckled, “Have you forgotten? You possess not a single mark. Why should the archive share its treasures with you?”