The top floor of the library was home to an empty desk covered with a thick layer of dust. Behind it, a silver-framed full-length mirror leaned against the wall.  And as if someone had tried to chain the reflection, thin curls of silver stretched across the glass. 

Just in front of the desk was a wooden stool with three legs, one shorter than the rest. One push and it would fall over.

It was quiet.

A young man appeared, stumbling out of the air. He tripped forward trying to balance himself with the stool, but only managed to take it with him. The crash cut the silence like a sharpened knife. There was no echo. After hitting the floor, the young man didn't move.

The silence came back quickly. This time, though, it was not calm. It was waiting, holding its breath.

The person pushed himself up. He inspected his clothes for any dirt or damage, and he grimaced seeing the abstract image on the front of his shirt. 

"Should have let me go to hell." He muttered. Glancing around, he narrowed his eyes. "Where the—"

Just as instantly as he had appeared, he was gone. 

***

The lower floors of the library did not have any windows. The top floor was not an exception. Perhaps there was a way to use magic to explain it, but the light in the library simply was. It existed as a constant much like the shelves. Consequently, there was no way to keep time based on shadows. The only sign of night was that the books would glow between sunset and sunrise.

The sun had just set.  The glowing books cast odd shadows even in the well-lit library.

The young man appeared again, but this time he seemed used to it. He looked bored instead of shocked. Perhaps he was a bit annoyed. 

He tripped over the stool on the floor.

Hitting the floor without trying to catch himself, he groaned. He did not move.

After a few seconds, he rolled over and sat up. He grabbed the stool and set it properly in front of the desk. Using the stool for support, he got back on his feet.

The young man stared at the mirror he hadn't noticed before. All the mirror captured was the bookshelves. His reflection did not appear. He turned his head to the side.

Wanting a closer look, he leaned forward, grabbing the edges of the desk. He jerked his hands away when he felt the layer of dust

The mirror was pushed out of his thoughts as he rubbed the dust on his pants.

Since he was looking down, he didn't see the reflection of the library disappear. He didn't see the mirror suddenly show a young child with long hair sitting in front of the desk. He didn't see the mirror's reflection shift back to the shelves.

Again, just as quickly as he had come, he disappeared.

***

The silence learned to be calm again. As long as the peace was not disrupted, it was satisfied. The silence did not care how much time passed.

The young man came back. This time he made sure to check where he was before moving forward. His features looked softer. He looked a bit shorter. His hair looked a bit longer. The soft curls he normally cut were starting to show. 

His presence did not disturb the calm in the library. The silence welcomed him this time.

Facing away from the mirror, he sat on the stool. He put his head in his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees.

Behind him, the mirror added him to the reflection of the library. 

He raised his head slowly. His eyes didn't look human anymore. There were no pupils, no whites. His eyes looked like they had been replaced by the night sky, full of stars and muted colors.

He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before disappearing.

His reflection in the mirror stayed a few seconds before fading.

***

This time it was as if the library was waiting for him. The silence itself seemed relieved by the intrusion. 

Like the first time, the young man struggled to find his own footing after he appeared.

No, he was a child now. He was only wearing an oversized shirt as a dress. His dark hair was long enough to hang over his eyes, and its slight curls brushed his shoulders.

The child knew better than to try grabbing the stool, so he just collapsed on the ground.

The silence resettled.

He sat up, pulling himself onto the stool. When it teetered, he grabbed the desk for balance. He did not pull his hands away from the dust.

The mirror did not show his face. He turned his head to the side when the image shifted.

A forest replaced the reflection of the library. In the mirror, a different child looked over his shoulder and smiled. His eyes were a sparkling emerald green; it looked like his irises were cut from gemstones.  His clothing matched his eyes, but the fabric looked more like scales than cloth.

The boy in the library started humming. "Ring around the Darii. Pocket full of stories. Ziron, Ziron, we all fall dead." He rocked his head from side to side. "Ziron, Ziron. All the dragons are dead."

He repeated the song while the mirror's images flickered, showing the future, showing other lives. A sound that must have been screaming echoed around him, but he continued humming. 

Then the mirror reflected the bookshelves again. The screaming stopped, leaving not the quiet of the library, but rather the boy's singing.

Ring around the Darii. Pocket full of stories. Ziron, Ziron, we all fall dead.