Ch.20- Taboo.

The Academy grounds were quieter than usual as dusk settled over the campus; most students had retreated to their dormitories or the dining hall, leaving the stone pathways nearly deserted.
“So what’s the plan here?” Amy asked, breaking the silence. “Just wandering aimlessly until curfew?”
[Not aimlessly. I have a specific destination in mind.]
“Care to share with the class?”
[You’ll see when we arrive.]
She let out an annoyed sigh yet continued following the book in silence. The familiar weight of stress and anxiety that had been pressing on her shoulders seemed to lighten with each step away from her responsibilities.
Running away from reality might not be healthy. But walking? That sure does feel nice.
The guard at the main gate stood up as they came toward him.
“Your pass, please.”
Amy searched her pocket, found the card, and handed it over.
“Amy Stake?” He looked from the name to her face. Apparently he knew it. “Going into town this late?”
“Just for a walk.”
His eyes went to Libris. Whatever he thought about the floating book, he kept it to himself.
“Be back before eleven. That’s when we close.” He returned her card. “And stay nearby. You need to be careful in town after dark.”
“I won’t be long.”
The barrier prickled against her skin as she walked through it. Amy looked back at the gate, surprised at how good it felt to be on this side of it.
Finally away from school!
“I didn’t think it would be that easy to just leave,” she commented once they were beyond earshot of the guard.
After the Building B incident, the Academy had restricted movement throughout the campus, making entering or leaving certain places very annoying. So she found it kind of surprising that the guard just let them get away that easily.
[Class S privileges. Lower-ranked students require explicit permission.]
“I used to hate on favoritism, but I kind of dig it when it’s applied to me.”
They followed the path downhill, with the city below them. The lanterns along its main street were being lit. At least she wouldn’t have to find her way around in the dark.
“Should I be concerned about you leading me into an ambush?”
[If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t need to organize an ambush. I could kill you right now.]
“Wow, that’s… reassuring.” Amy gave a small, uncomfortable laugh. It hadn’t even hesitated before saying that. “I’d rather you didn’t demonstrate, thanks.”
She noticed she’d started walking a little farther from it.
[It was merely a statement of fact. Not a threat.]
“I sure hope so…”
[This way.]
Libris floated toward a path that branched off to the right, winding through a small street that after a few minutes of walking, led to the heart of the city. There stood a small clearing with a stone fountain at its center. The design was familiar, with intricate carvings around its base depicting various magical creatures.
Amy stopped abruptly as recognition dawned. “Wait… is this—”
[The teahouse where you first met Crow should be just beyond those trees. And yes, this is the fountain you nearly touched before I stopped you; if you had touched it before gaining your core, there would be vomit all over the place right now since your body would have had trouble dealing with mana. Luckily, I was there to stop you.]
Amy went up to the fountain and touched the rim. She remembered reaching for it that first day. “It’s been about a week, hasn’t it? Since I got here?” She shook her head. “How has all of that fit into a week?”
[That tends to happen when one travels between worlds, stops a demonic ritual, fights eldritch horrors, and has to deal with classes in the span of a few days.]
Amy’s expression darkened at the mention of the ritual chamber; Elias once again appeared in her mind.
She shook her head and sat on the cool stone rim.
Libris stayed beside her. Neither spoke for a while. Amy listened to the city beyond the clearing, glad that most of its noise didn’t reach them here.
Eventually, she looked at the book. “Was there a reason you picked this place?”
[We first spoke here. I wondered what you would think of it now. You have coped rather well since that day, considering what usually goes on in your head.]
“Excuse me?”
[There was another reason. You spend so much time at the Academy, thinking about the manga. I wanted you to see somewhere else again. There are places here where you don’t have to worry about the next chapter. And that at any point, you could leave.]
Amy considered this, watching the darkening sky. “And then die…” she muttered after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper.
[Is it truly that bad? Death?]
She looked up at the floating book. “What do you mean?”
[Death is something all beings arrive at eventually. You speak of death as if it’s the ultimate tragedy.]
“Isn’t it? Death is… the end. Everything you are, everything you could be—just gone.”
[Is it though? The end? In this world, and perhaps even in yours, death has many interpretations. Some see it as a transition, others as a transformation. The energy that makes us doesn’t simply vanish.]
“That’s just philosophy to make people feel better about the inevitable. You are still going to lose everything you know– everyone you love.”
[Is that why you risked your life in that nightmare for strangers you’ve never met? Because you didn’t want them to die?]
“Isn’t that obvious…?”
[…No, it isn’t. Not for me.]
Amy ran a finger over the stone beside her, looking up rather than at Libris.
“I don’t know what else to tell you. I didn’t want to watch more people get hurt.”
[Interesting.]
“They were right there. All those students. What was I supposed to do, leave them?”
[Even knowing you might die helping them?]
“Apparently.” She attempted a laugh. “Never said I was smart.”
[I wouldn’t call that stupidity.]
Amy had no answer to that. They were quiet for a little while before the book spoke again.
[Amy. There is something I haven’t thanked you for.] Its voice had gone metallic again.
“What?”
[My name. You gave me one without being asked. I have been here a very long time, and nobody else has done that. Nor have many treated me as more than something to be used.]
“Nobody named you? Ever?”
[I have had plenty of things to answer to. Manga’s Will. Artifact. Thing. Weapon, occasionally. But never a name of my own… Names have metaphorical power, you know. They separate entities from objects, individuals from concepts.]
“Well, it suits you,” Amy said with a small smile. “Even if you did complain a little about it.”
[I didn’t complain, just said that it was ‘acceptable’… But maybe that word isn’t enough to describe it anymore; I’ve grown rather attached to it.]
Amy leaned back on her hands, looking up at the stars that were gradually appearing in the night sky. “So you said you lived a long time. How old are you exactly?”
[Older than this world. Though I was dormant for the majority of the time. My memories of those times are fragmented.]
“Damn, you’re old. Like, actually old, a living fossil even. How was it dealing with the dinosaurs, Grandma?”
[…remember that comment about me being able to kill you at any moment?]
Amy cleared her throat. “And the Goddess…” she said, rapidly changing the topic. “…she saved you, right? I remember you telling me this. From what did she save you?”
The book was silent for so long that Amy thought it might not answer.
[From oblivion…]
Amy frowned. “That doesn’t tell me much.”
[There isn’t much you need to know.] The metallic voice returned. [She found me. She understood what I was, and gave me something to do again.]
“Which was…?”
[Help you change the ending.]
Amy kept looking at Libris. There had to be more to it, but the book plainly didn’t want to tell her. She let it go.
Instead, she asked, “What will you do when I’m gone? When I’ve either succeeded or failed and returned to my world?”
[I don’t know… Perhaps the Goddess will have another task for me. Perhaps I’ll simply… wait again.]
“That sounds lonely…”
[Loneliness requires the expectation of company. I’ve spent most of my existence in solitude. It’s familiar. Either way, about the name—
“Wow, nice topic change there.”
—you may not realize how significant that is,] Libris continued, ignoring Amy’s words, [But as I said, no one has ever considered me worthy of such distinction. If we are using human terminology, you would be what one might call my first… friend.]
The word hung in the air between them, fragile and unexpected.
“Oh…” Amy said, a strange warmth spreading through her chest. “I…I-I mean, we haven’t known each other for long, but… I do consider you my first friend too…”
[“First.” I’m surprised you never had friends; you seem quite adept at dealing with people.]
“…I kind of did for a while,” she tucked her knees up to her chest. “But I realized they were never my actual friends, not real ones, I mean. The people I thought would always have my back turned on me when I was at my weakest.” Her voice grew quiet. “Though I probably deserved it.”
[Why would you deserve such treatment?]
“Because I am awful, just like my father. I feel like a mirror version of him at times.” Amy admitted. “I pushed people away, said cruel things, acted like I didn’t care about anyone. And then when I needed someone… no one was there.”
[I don’t understand. You say that about yourself, yet you risk your life to save strangers.]
“Maybe I’m trying to balance the scales,” she said with a bitter smile. “Too little, too late, probably.”
[Is that why you can’t simply leave? Fear of adding more ‘sins’ to your ledger?]
“First of all, I don’t want to die, that’s why I’m not leaving. And I’m not leaving people behind if there’s something I can do for them. I’m not that awful.” She glanced at Libris. “Besides, I said I’d help you become human. You’re my friend. I meant it.”
The pages stirred. For a while, the book didn’t say anything.
[Thank you.] The words sounded metallic.
“You could tell me how to help, though. You still haven’t said what we’re actually supposed to do.”
[…]
“Right. Should’ve expected that.”
Then the pages lit up. Amy leaned closer as a drawing appeared: a slender person in an Academy uniform, with amber eyes and short golden hair.
“Is that you? Or who you want to be?”
[One possibility. I have been thinking about what form I might take. Nothing has been decided.]
Amy looked more closely at the sketches. “You resemble me a lot…”
[I find your form aesthetically pleasing and functionally efficient. However, I might prefer shorter hair. Less maintenance.]
A small laugh escaped Amy. “Thanks. I also find this yassified version of me pleasing to the eye.”
[You indeed are. Perhaps I might even emulate more aspects of your personality than I already did.]
“My personality…?” Amy raised an eyebrow. “I still don’t understand why you would want to copy that train wreck?”
[Because I find you quite likable, and I like the idea of resembling a human like you.]
She fell silent, unexpectedly unable to respond for a second. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she finally managed.
[Don’t get used to it.]
For a while they said nothing else. Amy stayed by the fountain, watching the stars appear.
[Amy. There is something else.] Libris spoke more gently. [I don’t think we should keep putting it off.]
She looked at it. “What now?”
[Elias Varn.]
Her fingers pressed against the rim. She clenched her teeth before she could answer.
“No.” Amy got up and walked a few steps away.
[You cannot keep walking away whenever I mention him.]
“I’m still here.” She turned back. “I just don’t want to go through it all again. What good would that do?”
[If you would let me—]
“Please, Libris. I’ve been thinking about it all day. Can I stop for a minute?”
The book waited before replying. [Refusing to speak about it hasn’t stopped you thinking about it. Perhaps speaking would help.]
“Talking like a wise old man doesn’t suit you,” she said with a bitter laugh, turning away again. “I bet that sounded better in your head.”
[Amy,] Libris scolded.
“Fine.” She remained standing, her back to the book. “What about him?”
[He’s the epicenter of all your stress, isn’t he? I want to talk about him.]
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Amy’s voice hardened, though she still wouldn’t turn around. “He died. I couldn’t save him. End of story.”
[Is it?]
She kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering across the cobblestones. “What do you want me to say, Libris?”
[Nothing. I just want you to stop pretending it didn’t affect you.]
“I don’t need therapy from a book.”
[I agree. I’m the least qualified being to perform therapy in this universe. But even I know you need to acknowledge what you’re feeling instead of burying it under sarcasm and distractions. Start by telling me how you feel; it might help somewhat.]
Amy remained silent for so long that Libris seemed about to speak again. Then she turned around, her face carefully controlled. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
[No.]
She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Fine. You want to know how I feel? I feel like shit… I feel like I should have been faster, stronger, smarter. And then I read that chapter and he’s not even mentioned. I hated that.” She had to stop for a moment. “But I was glad I didn’t have to read about him, too. How fucked up is that?”
Libris came nearer. She could see it beside her without turning her head. [Why relieved?]
“Because it meant I didn’t have to see it again… Every time I think about that moment, I was right there, Libris. Right there. If I’d moved differently, or been a little quicker…”
[If you pushed yourself further than you did, you might be the one dead instead.]
“Maybe that would have been better.” The words escaped before she could stop them.
[Do you truly believe that?]
Amy was silent for a long moment, staring up at the sky. “No,” she admitted. “I’m too scared of dying… It’s pathetic, but I’m glad he’s the one who’s gone and not me.”
[Nothing pathetic about worrying for oneself.]
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
[No. It’s supposed to make you understand that what you’re feeling is normal. According to the internet, humans who witness death, particularly violent death, often experience the same feeling you are going through. You saw something terrible happen. You haven’t had much time to understand what it has done to you.]
Amy sat down on the fountain again. She felt too tired to keep standing. “I keep wondering what he was like. I know for a fact he had friends– maybe a family. Dreams. A future. And now he’s just… gone. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”
[The fact that you care this deeply about someone you never truly knew speaks well of you, more than you realize.]
“Or maybe it just makes me weak,” she muttered.
[No, it doesn’t.]
Amy stared down at her hands, remembering the blood that had covered them in the ritual chamber. “Tell me, Libris. What do I do with this?” she asked, looking up at the book. “How do I stop feeling this way?”
[The Internet says that time will help, as well as acknowledging what happened rather than trying to forget it; and I agree.]
Amy nodded, still looking at her hands. “I’m going to get them out of this. Lain, the others… I know what happens to them in the manga. I can’t leave it that way.”
[I know you will try. That matters.]
Amy said nothing for a while. She could still hear the city beyond the fountain, and Libris seemed content to wait beside her. Eventually, she turned toward the book.
“Thanks, by the way, for trying to make me feel better.”
[Did it help?]
She considered that, gazing up. “Meh.” She exhaled slowly. “I suppose expecting it to happen with a single conversation is too much…”
[It’s a long process.]
“Look at you, sounding all wise and mighty, when most of the time you are probably just reciting some words you learned from a site,” she said with the ghost of a smile. “Next you’ll be telling me to practice mindfulness and drink herbal tea.”
[Chamomile does have proven calming properties.]
“Is that why you gave it to me back when I first arrived here…?”
[Affirmative. I thought it might help you take everything in.]
Amy let out a breath. It was getting cold enough that she no longer wanted to sit on the stone.
“Let’s head back. I still haven’t read the other chapter.” She looked toward the path. “Can’t do much about the readers if I don’t know what they’re reading.”
[It can wait until tomorrow if you would rather stop here. The comments, too.]
“You spent ages trying to get me to read them.”
[Because you were pretending they didn’t matter. Deciding to rest and read them tomorrow would be different.]
She thought about it, then shook her head. “No, it’s alright. Thanks, though. Really.” Amy stood. “It’s a chapter and some comments. I’ve read enough of those. I can do one more.”
[Then we should go.]
She brushed off her uniform and took another look at the fountain before following the path back.
“Yeah. I’m coming.”