Nightwatch - MTG Story

Flick, flick, flick Pages were being reviewed of a book so carelessly left in the wrong wing. It was in good condition still, no obvious signs of damage. None intentional at least. Age was taking a toll on this one, it'd be best to correct that soon. Botanical Guide to Argive, Volume 3. Second edition. Minor disintegration on pages 325, 326, 371, 372, 522, 589. Leather cover eroding. Attached bookmark snapped but accounted for on page 242. Recommendation: temporal washing. The Archivist's hands scribbled down on the inventory scroll, ink stained claws delicately gliding across that paper with a practiced perfection. Traversing the stacks wasn't difficult for the library's Archivist, the years blurred together but there was a time the shelves were claustrophobic. Leaving nary a feather behind, they made their way to the top of the closest bookcase. An ocean of literature stood all around the Archivist, it was the only scenery they'd know. A copy of every book, every play, every letter, and every written word committed to paper was to be found in these stacks. Organized by topic, genre, place of origin, year written, and a myriad of other categories in the many wings and sections. Some near the floor on shelves any could reach, others near the ceiling with staircases to reach. Some still could be found on shelves in the air, those the archivist was most familiar assisting with. In time, assistants would make it easier on visitors. Rare as they were at night, they still took the Archivist's attention away from their duties. Nightly inventory shouldn't be interrupted, every item must be inspected. Click. The Archivist pressed the young book into its proper place while staring in the direction of that noise. A trespasser.

The Archivist didn't pretend to know why knowledge would be forbidden. It wasn't in their duties to question it. They were to inspect incoming items and remove necessary materials for placement in the forbidden section. If a visitor could provide the proper proofs, they'd be allowed into the vault. A visitor must be accompanied however. On silent wings, the Archivist soared towards the door they'd so dutifully kept sealed away. They saw the shelves of Ikorian romantic fiction, it'd been pulled aside just enough for someone to open the hidden door. Following the trespasser would be simple, the vault was kept near perfectly silent. Perfect silence made caring for the forbidden section for long periods…. troublesome. The trespasser would have hardly the time to hear claws touch upon the cold floors. They never should've made it inside.

They couldn't have made it far. It'd only been a few minutes, nothing as small as this trespasser could make it far in this timeframe. Movement caught their eyes and they turned sharply, following them like a bird of prey - if the archive's zoology section was accurate on them. It was a regular visitor, they came from Arcavios and often came for information on magical tragedies. They were a trusted patron, a dozen drafts of their essays and theses were donated personally by them. They carried the necessary key, bell still attached and currently being lightly jingled by the nervous student. The Archivist's simmering anger turned to steam on a cold day, this wasn't a malicious trespasser. An idiotic college student but harmless. They descended to land right over the aspiring bird, claws tapping along the scrolls and metal caps of old books. "What subject tonight, Melissa? This is the dominarian section." A booming voice whispered to nervous Melissa. "O-oh! A-archivist! I-I didn't want t-to bother you so I-I grabbed-" There was no gesture or word spoken yet she got the point, beating around the bush wasn't going to help either of them. "R-right… t-the Than Civil War, the Null Moon and Halcyon specifically. I-It's for my final in Annihilation, p-purely theoretical. Promise!" A quick flick brought out one, two, three books on the very subject in question. Another book was brought down from a different shelf, it'd be important to know the context surely but the operation of the Null Moon should help here too. "Good. Losing my favorite visitor would be another tragedy for my archives. Do be sure to ask next time you're in a rush, Melissa. I can make time for you." They walked with Melissa out of the restricted section, closing it back behind them. They'd have to ask another day how she moved it or even got their key, a sneaky little bird. For such a bright mind, Melissa was so very dumb - in the sweetest ways. Ever since she first arrived with an acceptance letter in hand, to now as her first year's end was fast approaching, such a sweet dummy.

"T-thank you, Archivist! I'll bring you a copy of my thesis when it's done! And my report card when it comes in!" The waving avian clutched her books close to her chest as she bid them farewell, eager to crack into books generations her senior. Booooom. The traversal of eternity always left quite the echo, one the Archivist couldn't quite understand why it lingered in their bosom for so long in the emptiness. Reluctantly, they turned from the emptiness back to their duties. Scratching into the inventory log the books out currently, lingering on the name for a moment. "Of course, I'll always make time, Melissa."