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Sovereign City-State: The Library
17th Day of Month 6, Year 1628 DG
From afar, the feathers on adult human wings resemble steel. They aren’t, of course, but from the silver color to the polished texture, it isn’t uncommon for an unwitting passerby to stop and wonder how heavy their wings must be.
Unisa sees these wings in her dreams, walking away from her. A pair of them, belonging to individuals she must’ve once called “Mommy” and “Daddy.”
A gentle voice speaks to her as soft, celadon fingers wipe the wetness off her cheeks. “Stop crying, my love.” Through the hazy vision, Unisa sees a Mega in a purple, full-sleeve tunic. “This is your home now. Welcome to the Library.”
Unisa jolts awake. She’s in bed, in her apartment.
She’s home.
Her heart races, sweat trickling down her temple. She wipes it away and laughs at her absurd reaction to such a pleasant dream.
A gentle voice welcoming me home. The absolute horror!
She peers over the edge of her bed and sees a book lying on the floor. The title stares up at her, The Fully Bonded You. She must have fallen asleep reading again.
She picks the book up, returning it to her bookshelf. It’s crowded with texts, so she squeezes the book between two others as best as she can. The name “Alvaro, the Prime Librarian” is etched into the spine of most of them, including the one she fell asleep reading the night before.
Unisa turns to face the window and looks up at the sky to check the time. She notes the positions of Ona and Lona, but Throna and Frona have yet to make their appearances over the horizon. A smile spreads across her face as she realizes she has plenty of time to get ready before work.
After her morning stretches, she sits before the mirror on her dresser and unwraps the scarf tied around her head to release her box braids. The protective style allows her to fly without worrying about wind or humidity. It took hours to braid them the day before, but it was well worth the effort. She applies a buttery oil to them as her rich brown skin shines in the light of the early morning suns.
Having been separated from her culture at a young age, Unisa had to learn most of what she now knows on her own. Her adoptive mother, Ora, helped as best as she could, but there’s only so much a pixie can teach about human angi culture.
Unisa finishes oiling and pulls her braids up. She wraps the scarf around them again to keep them away from the water in her cramped shower. Just one more promotion, and I can afford a bigger place. She squeezes her wings tight against her back so she can turn around and wash her feathers.
A row of gold, cotton tunics and loose, light brown pants crowd her closet. She grabs the nearest uniform and gets dressed, then heads to the apartment three doors down the hall, entering without knocking.
Having grown up in this apartment with Ora, there’s a warm sense of familiarity and nostalgia in the air as she prepares two sausages and eggs for breakfast.
“You’re going to be late,” comes Ora’s voice from behind her.
Unisa smiles and speaks without turning. “I have plenty of time.”
She can hear Ora’s cane clacking to the dining table. “I can make my own breakfast. I’m retired, not dead.”
“It’s your first week as a retiree. This is a big deal, let me dote on you a little.”
“You had the dream again,” Ora says abruptly. “It’s been months since the last time.”
Unisa’s smile fades momentarily, but she forces it back up. “How can you tell?”
“I’m your mother.”
Unisa plates Ora’s breakfast and gently sets it down on the table in front of the pixie. “That’s a typical Mom thing to say.”
Ora reaches her celadon fingers out and holds Unisa’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry about what?” Unisa asks, her smile fading.
“About the way you feel after I appear in your dreams.”
Unisa rolls her eyes and lovingly pats Ora’s hand. “Don’t be silly, Mom. You know it’s not you. In fact, I think hearing your voice is the only comforting part of the dream. I don’t even know why it makes me feel anxious, it’s not like it’s violent or intense.”
Ora smiles, then raises Unisa’s hand to her lips and kisses it. “I love you, Uni.”
“I love you, too. But now I have to go, or I’ll actually be late.” She turns and heads for the door. “Don’t wait for me, I’ll be late tonight. I’m meeting Rafa for dinner.”
She shuts Ora’s door behind her quickly, hoping to silence any comments Ora might make about her and Rafael.
A long queue of Doruh valets stand outside the stout, claystone apartment building. Horses, rhinos, bears, sheep, camels—all standing on the side of the road, waiting for customers to approach and request a ride to another part of the city.
They gaze hopefully in Unisa’s direction when she exits the building, but then turn away, disappointed when they see her wings and realize she’s from the angi clan. There is, however, a familiar face which breaks the queue and approaches her.
“Good morning, Unisa!” A young Doruh man waves at her excitedly. He’s naked, as many Doruh elect to be when in human form.
Unisa sighs and walks past him. “Morning, Chiragh.” She speaks lazily as he follows behind her.
“Beautiful day for a ride!” he says, trying to keep up her pace.
“Even better for a soar.” In a fluid motion, she turns around, smiles and winks at him, and then continues walking.
“Come on, Uni, I have the best prices in the Library.”
“That’s not the point, Chiragh. I’m taking the Loops. It’s free. Why would I spend money on a ride?”
Chiragh stops following and calls out to her, “Don’t be cheap, Uni! I know Librarians get paid well!”
“Have a good day!” Unisa yells back before disappearing into a crowd.
Two blocks down the street, she finds a uniformed attendant ushering a line of individuals onto a red circle marked on the ground. Next to the circle is a sign reading, “Library Loop Network - Entrance PA1035.” Unisa joins the back of the line.
Above their heads is a framework of multicolored hoops that direct and manage the airborne traffic throughout the Library. A series of green hoops forms a lane of traffic in the direction in which Unisa will be traveling, while a series of blue hoops forms another lane for traffic moving in the opposite direction. Hovering red hoops indicate the entrances and exits in and out of the Loop Network.
At the front of the line is another angi human. His wings are outstretched as he stands in the red circle, waiting for the attendant to allow him entry. Behind him is a Mega woman with a blue complexion, and behind her are three Doruh waiting to take flight in their animal forms.
The line shrinks quickly as those in front enter the Loops. The attendant gives the Doruh woman before Unisa the affirmative signal to enter, and the woman shifts into a hummingbird to float delicately through the hoops and into traffic.
Unisa steps forward into the red circle. At the attendant’s signal, she bends her knees and pushes forcefully upward with a strong flap of her wings. She’s airborne now, and with some additional quick-paced fluttering, she enters the Loops. Her subconscious commands her wings to beat rhythmically every few minutes.
All four suns are now visible in the sky. Unisa’s gaze falls on the city below as the rays glint off the Library’s magnificent infrastructure. Busy morning activity animates the Stream Network: interconnected canals, intricately woven under bridges, around buildings, and through tunnels for those who wish to travel by water, like the human mari clan.
Unisa’s exit approaches and she pulls her shoulders back, stretching out her wings until her body is vertical. Descending with intention, she lands in a red circle on the street, then stands still for a moment, taking time to recover her balance.
Folding her wings, she enters a bustling marketplace and heads straight for Kura’s Kitchen. It’s little more than a four-post stall with a wooden counter between the customers and the scorching equipment. Torn fabric covers the top to form a shabby tent, and at the head of each post sits a rusty speaker.
Unisa’s excitement flourishes when she sees Kura cooking and greeting customers with a warm smile. The heat from her equipment radiates out over the counter, so customers remain a step back. Only a human of the igni clan, with their stone exoskeletons, can work in such a small, blistering space without getting burned.
Kura sees Unisa and smiles. “Morning, Uni! Would you like your usual?”
“Yes, Kura!” Unisa shouts to her, hoping Kura can hear her over the sizzling and popping. “Actually, make it two today!”
“Two? Quite an appetite this morning.”
Unisa laughs. “It’s not for me, I’m picking up for a friend.” Kura nods and prepares Unisa’s usual breakfast order: a toasted corn bowl with vegetable stew.
The rusty speakers are common amongst every stall in the market. Unisa listens closely to the words emitted from them as she waits for her meal. It’s the Prime Librarian’s voice, reading from one of his own books, a book that Unisa has on her shelf and has nearly memorized, cover-to-cover.
“The Fully Bonded individual has completely abandoned the notion of victimhood. They are responsible for the things that happen to them, and the way in which they react to those things. The Fully Bonded is able to introspectively assign blame solely where it belongs: upon themselves. When we believe we are victims, we move away from being Fully Bonded and toward being Fully Broken.”
Unisa closes her eyes and allows the Prime’s familiar, silken timbre to inspire her devotion to his teachings. She repeats one of the tenets: The Fully Bonded believe. The Fully Bonded believe.
“Uni,” Kura interrupts from behind the wooden counter, sliding a sack with two packaged meals toward Unisa. “Lost in his words again?”
“The Fully Bonded always listen and learn,” Unisa responds, “especially from the Prime.” She withdraws two stones from her pouch, one blue and one green, and hands them to Kura. The blue stone is circular, while the glossy green stone is carved into a triangle. Both have the MegaFather’s portrait etched into them, a feat that only faerie technology can mass produce.
“Yes, yes. No one is as Bonded as you are, Uni.”
Unisa rolls her eyes and picks up the sack with the meals, keeping her ears open as she continues through the marketplace.
“The radical Doruh of MoonSide have become Fully Broken. Refusing to acknowledge their historical misdoings, the Doruh believe themselves victims. SunSide’s occupation of their kingdom, and the magnanimous guardianship of the Bravers, will rid the region of savagery and rebellion, and save the civilized from the scourge.”
The Prime’s words fortify Unisa’s resolve as both a citizen and a government official of the Library.
A metal archway with a string of blue lights sits nestled between two stone buildings, an entrance to the Catacombs beneath the city. A sign outside the archway reads “Catacomb Section 27L: Witness.”
Unisa steps onto a slightly elevated, circular platform under the archway, hearing it click into the ground as her weight pushes against it. A familiar voice erupts from a speaker at the top.
“Good morning! Welcome to the Library Catacomb Network. Do you have authorization to enter Witness?”
“Good morning, Maksi,” Unisa responds loudly. “It’s me.”
“Morning, Uni.”
The blue light surrounding the archway turns red, indicating that the security measures have been temporarily disabled, allowing Unisa to pass through. When she steps off of the platform, it pops back up out of the ground and the red light turns blue again.
Another platform, this one rectangular, descends through a shaft and carries her out of the suns’ light, into the Catacombs below. A thrill pumps through her as the smell of old, worn texts and documents effervesces into the air.
The shaft opens up to a long hallway with a desk at the other end of it. Behind the desk is a massive chamber with a vaulted ceiling, garnished with illuminated square panels. There are swirling, golden designs etched into the floors that shimmer as the brilliant lights strike them.
Artwork depicting significant moments in history adorns the room, splashing the walls with splendid colors, bringing them to life. A hanging clock with four lit circles, indicating the positions of the suns, stares at her from near the desk. Just under it rests a calendar; fifty squares squeeze onto each of ten pages, accounting for all five hundred days, and ten months, of the year.
Rows upon rows of shelves and cabinets inundate the chamber behind the desk, brimming with books and documents. Morning after morning, the magnificence takes Unisa’s breath away.
A wide doorway stands at the very back of the room, leading to a labyrinth of underground tunnels that connect every section of the Library’s Catacomb Network. The city was built with the sole purpose of housing and cataloging the entirety of Aerthomni’s written history. The records and documents held within the Catacombs are the most valuable artifacts in existence.
Librarians devote their lives to the history held herein. The various ranks dutifully collect, preserve, defend, or manage the information, but their focus remains the same regardless of where in the Library’s hierarchy they fall: protect the history, protect the Catacombs, protect the city.
Even if they must do so with their lives.
Unisa places the meals gently down on her side of the metal desk and finds Maksi, also in a gold cotton tunic, focused on writing.
“Splendid morning, isn’t it? Perfect for poetry.” His carrot-colored hand moves feverishly as he writes, and the points of his ears jiggle back and forth from the motion. He uses the Radiance to transmit his thoughts from his mind to the page, employing the tip of his finger as a writing utensil.
Unisa removes one of the breakfast stews from the bag and slides it to Maksi’s side of the desk. She watches with a wry smile, waiting for him to turn his head. Pupil-less Mega eyes aren’t conclusive indicators of where they’re looking.
His gaze finally leaves the paper and he turns to Unisa. “No,” he says. “This is bribery.”
“It’s breakfast. Your favorite,” she sings.
Maksi releases a frustrated sigh. “Uni, I cannot believe you. You know how I feel about violating policy.”
“I’ve never been caught, Maksi. If I take something tonight, I’ll bring it back to Witness in the morning. No one will know.”
“You can legally check any text out of here when they give you the green linen.”
Unisa shakes her head. “You know how much Witness means to me. I’m not waiting until they make me a Vice Ambassador before I experience what’s held here. That could be years.”
There’s a long pause as Maksi raises an eyebrow. “You always say Witness means so much to you, but you’ve never told me why. The gold cotton will get you into most other sections, why is this one so important to you?”
The question catches her defenseless, uncomfortable.
By the age of two, Unisa had taught herself to read, and before her fourth birthday, she knew more about Aerthomni’s history than most adults. Recognizing her limitless memory, and her constant, burning desire to seek knowledge, her birth parents relinquished her to Ora and the Library—to immerse her in the history she was born to consume.
The primary historical testimonies held in Witness are the very reason her parents abandoned her here. For Unisa, it’s sacred. Holy.
She reinstates her faded smile and conjures an excuse. “A big part of the Fully Bonded individual is a thirst for history. No history is more accurate and detailed than eyewitness testimonies.”
“For someone who’s constantly working toward being Fully Bonded, you’re oddly comfortable with rule-breaking. If they realize I turned a blind eye to your tampering, for some vegetable stew, they’ll consider both of us Fully Broken.”
Unisa rolls her eyes. “Tampering? Do you hear yourself? I don’t draw on them. I know how fragile these texts are.”
Maksi sighs, takes in her pleading expression, and nods in defeat.
“Thank you, Maksi!” she says, excitedly. “I promise, I won’t ask again.”
“I hear that at least twice a month.”
The day progresses slowly. One Vice Ambassador comes in to read, while a pair of yellow tunic-clad Ambassador Librarians check out some documents. Around midday, Maksi volunteers to venture to the street market for lunch, and shortly thereafter, the intercom system notifies Unisa that someone is waiting on the entrance platform.
Unisa clears her throat and leans down to the microphone. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Witness. Are you authorized for entry?”
“Y-Yes, I have a letter from an Ambassador,” replies a high-pitched, shaky voice on the other end.
A letter? Perhaps he meant an Official Document Request?
Unisa allows the visitor to enter, and moments later, she sees him step off the descending platform at the end of the hall. His white cotton tunic, the uniform of Librarians in training, alarms her. Students are certainly not authorized for entry in Witness.
His burgundy hands and pointed ears quiver as he clutches a piece of paper and slowly steps up to the desk. Unisa holds her hand out and he presents the document to her. She realizes what’s happening as soon as she sees it.
“You’re here to check a text out of Witness?” She feigns curiosity to hide her amusement.
“Yes, please.” The teenager points to the paper. “An Ambassador gave me permission.” The document is quite obviously written by someone who has never seen an official authorization. Unisa’s grin breaks out and she tears the paper in half.
“Cute, but I’m sure you knew that wasn’t going to work. Mega students use the Radiance all the time to try to sneak things out of here.”
“I can’t use the Radiance.” The boy’s gray eyes dim.
Guilt grows in Unisa’s chest. “Oh, you’re a faerie.”
The boy nods. “Am I in trouble?”
Unisa smiles. “No, you’re not.”
His shoulders visibly relax.
“What did you need from Witness?”
“Information on the War for Bibi Sands.”
“You’re not in the right section, mohuway.” She addresses the boy using a term of endearment for children in the ancient Nysabaani language. “Head south three blocks and you’ll see the entrance to Recent History.”
The teenager shakes his head. “I went there first. Everything on Bibi Sands has been checked out.”
Unisa sighs and reaches into her desk drawer to withdraw paper and a writing utensil. “Write this down.”
He nods and eagerly awaits her dictation.
“The War for Bibi Sands started in 1603 and ended in 1622.”
He looks up from the paper. “It only ended six years ago?”
Unisa smiles. “Yes, mohuway, that’s why it’s cataloged in Recent History.”
The boy returns her smile and hunches over the paper again.
“The igni and mari clans engaged in a territorial dispute over the island Bibi Sands. The war ended when an igni official, Courtman Tomohiro, discovered a more desirable island and claimed it. They no longer needed Bibi Sands, so they relinquished it to the mari. The new island was named Lily Beach and construction began on the settlements there.”
The teenager thanks her and departs.
“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” Maksi asks upon his return, as he hands Unisa a platter of lamb roast with rice and takes his place next to her.
Unisa hesitates to tell Maksi about the student. Her colleague is friendly, but he’s also a prisoner to policy; the boy would be reported to the Academy. It took Unisa months to feel even slightly comfortable asking him to forgo his strong sense of protocol for Kura’s stew.
The remainder of the day passes as painfully slow as the morning did, but when the end of their shift finally arrives, Maksi turns to Unisa. “You have ten minutes. Please hurry, Uni.”
“I promise,” she responds. “I’ll be back in under ten.”
Her heart slams against her chest as she walks through the rows of bookshelves. Although her wings are tight against her back, Unisa feels as if she is floating around Witness. A smile touches both ears.
She passes the first row of bookshelves, on the extinct human clan called the teri, predecessors of the angi, igni, mari, and Doruh. The second row is Mega history. Texts on the royal dynasties of SunSide are nestled toward the end of the self.
Her fingers find a thick book called The Everlasting Journey. She cradles the fragile text in her hands as she opens it. The name of the author, Red-Lo the MegaFather, gleams across the cover page. The book is an autobiography, penned on his deathbed and revered nearly as much as the author himself.
History remembers Red-Lo as a pacifist, something to which Unisa can relate.
The text catalogs the most intimate parts of the MegaFather’s life: his marriage to Drof-Fa, the violent usurper who robbed SunSide’s throne and then passed off her responsibilities when she grew tired of ruling; the perilous journey Drof-Fa coerced him into taking, in a mad search for immortality, which took her life; and Red-Lo’s devotion to SunSide’s scientific and technological revolution, using his work as a balm for his grief.
That grief is the reason SunSide is the most advanced society in all of Aerthomni, and why Red-Lo is rightfully venerated as the brilliant, honorable leader he always proved to be. Drof-Fa, in contrast, etched her infamy into eternity, ironically attaining the immortality she sought in darkness rather than light.
Unisa carefully cradles the delicate text to her chest, her arms crossed around it, and walks back toward the front desk.
As she exits the rows of bookshelves, Maksi approaches her briskly.
“There you are, Uni,” he says, standing uncomfortably close to her. “You took so long in the bathroom.”
Unisa reads his expression; sweat dots his forehead, stress lines reach out like fingers from the corners of his eyes, and his lips curl downward at the edges.
She tilts her head slightly to look past him, and her heart stops. Rustling through paperwork on the front desk is a tall nymph in a purple tunic.
Koal, Unisa and Maksi’s direct supervisor. In the year that Unisa has been a Gatekeeper, this is only the second time he has visited after closing.
Unisa turns back up to Maksi’s face. His growing anxiety mangles his expression further. She forces a smile in the hopes of comforting him, but the attempt falls flat.
“Sorry, Maksi,” she says, “I didn’t mean to disappear.” On the last word, she gestures down to the book with her eyes. Maksi nods subtly and grasps the book firmly in one hand, keeping it in front of his body to block Koal’s view. He closes his eyes.
The book disappears. At least, it appears that way until Maksi hands it back to Unisa and she realizes he’s just turned it invisible. Careful not to drop it, she takes the book in one hand and lets her arms drop to the side, as if she isn’t holding anything.
Together, they turn and walk back to the front desk.
“What’re you doing here, Koal?” Unisa asks casually. She places the invisible book down gently and silently on her side of the desk.
“I came to collect the checkout logs and restoration reports,” Koal says, absentmindedly flicking through pages on a clipboard.
“Now? I was going to bring them to you in the morning.” She maintains a cool indifference in her tone, a casual wondering, not a tense inquiry.
Koal finishes and holds the clipboard at his side. “I have to take the day off tomorrow. Family emergency.”
Unisa nods. “Understood.”
“I’ll see you both in a couple of days.”
He turns to exit through the doorway behind the bookshelves, disappearing into the Catacombs. Once he is out of view, Maksi turns to Unisa, smoke practically coming out of his ears.
“I told you it was risky! We almost got fired. Or worse. Who knows?” His speed increases and his words jumble together. “IcantbelieveItrustedyouandyoualmostgotmefired...”
“Maksi!” Unisa stops him. “Take a breath.”
Maksi inhales deeply and then exhales. “You have to put it back, Uni. We can’t take risks like this anymore.”
Unisa nods. Koal almost caught her walking out of Witness with a confidential text. They were lucky, but it could’ve gone far worse.
“I’ll put it back, Maksi,” she says, softly.
“Thank you,” he responds. He walks over to the desk, and runs his fingertips along the cover of the invisible book, causing it to reappear.
“Good night,” he says, before he makes his way down the hallway to the exit platform.
Unisa watches it ascend until he’s out of view, still embarrassed at the situation she caused. She reaches for the book to return it to the shelves, when something unusual catches her eye. She squints, confused, as soft light pours out of the pages.
Her fingers move slowly, subconsciously to the back of the book, from where the light flows. The formerly empty pages now host a thick paragraph of new writing. The words appear before her eyes, as if they’re being written at that moment. Unisa lifts her head and looks around. Perhaps Maksi, or Koal, is playing a trick on her. Trying to teach her a lesson.
But it’s abundantly plain that she’s alone. Her gaze falls to the book Maksi brought back to visibility, the book he revealed with the Radiance. She watches the glowing letters appear.
What more has he unintentionally revealed?