Trixie heaved the next stack of books a little bit higher so they could slide over the edge of the table, then let out a breath as she could finally let go. She shook out her hands after carrying so many texts around; she hadn’t expected to find so many references.

The quest with Ash and Noir made her curious, so when her mother was taking a trip to the next town to exchange herbs Trixie had asked to go with her. It wasn’t an unusual ask; the next town over had an actual library. One of the largest free libraries in the area, actually, because one of the most skilled magicians in the land lived at the very top of the tower where the library was formed.

No one had seen him in about 20 years, but the library still worked so everyone was mostly certain he was still alive. The books weren’t real books after all—that was too expensive—they were just magical copies sustained by magic crystals in the tower. That was why you couldn’t take the books from the tower. Once they were out of range of the crystals, the books disappeared.

Until then they were just as heavy as real books.

She sat heavily and stretched her arms above her head, casting a light healing on herself. She’d been at this for hours and felt like she was barely skimming the surface because she just wasn’t finding the right texts this time. It was usually so easy. She knew what she wanted and quickly found the right book, reading through the pages diligently.

And there were all sorts of books here. Everything from foreign language to biology to fiction fit on the shelves.

But nothing that explained those two boys.

First she had searched and searched for a skill called ‘Roots’. It wasn’t listed in the Basic Book of Common Skills, nor could she find anything in A Healer’s Guide to Normal Skills. The closest she could find was a skill found in the very back of an encyclopedia of abnormal traits, skills, and curses: the dreaded HP Share Ash had mentioned.

HP Share was a skill that was typically used on larger groups. Some mathematicians had taken the time to study the skill in depth using controlled experiments and found that they were able to assign a number to each member of the group based on their health. Once HP share was used, all those numbers were added up and divided equally among the members of the group. While it was potentially life-saving for someone on the front line who was facing an enemy far too strong, it also took away from those who hadn’t been injured.

Figuring out how to assign ‘health’ to each member was a different rabbit hole she hadn’t gone down yet. Normally she didn’t mind divergences because they led to all sorts of new information, but this time she couldn’t be bothered with distractions.

Noir’s skill seemed different from the known skill since he took on the actual injuries, it didn’t seem to be an equal split, and he used the skill one-on-one. Given that she hadn’t found anything under ‘common’ or ‘normal’ skills, it was possible the trait was either ‘rare’ or ‘unique’. Nothing like that could be found at this library. Even with the mage here, it wasn’t like this was the mage tower or the research center. The resources, while varied and vast compared to her hometown, were still limited.

So she’d moved on to his ‘I was a tree!’ idea. It sounded ridiculous. The first two books she’d found, Trixie had to discretely hide in different parts of the library and return to her seat looking a bit flushed.

This was supposed to be a mage’s library! Not some bored noble housewife’s entertainment section. Even if Trixie was old enough to think about being a bride, that didn’t mean she enjoyed reading such novels. Especially not where others could see her. What was that mage thinking putting such books out for the public!

The next few books were a little less fictional. Emphasis on ‘little’. They ended up being historical accounts of legends, rumors, and myths. Religious beliefs that had died out or ancient rituals geared towards blessing the next life. While they did discuss reincarnation abstractly they focused mostly on the story and on the beliefs.

Nothing real. Nothing factual. No proof that such beliefs were real. They couldn’t be, right? Because if they were real those religions wouldn’t have crumbled into nothing.

Now Trixie was onto her last topic for the day. If this didn’t pan out then she would try again tomorrow morning, but her time was limited before they would return. Her mom would pry her out of the library again and cart her back before she had a chance to finish.

Noir’s level 100.

Trixie was a little reluctant to open the books she’d picked out. They seemed innocent enough, except she felt like a sneak for even looking into it in the first place. Noir announced to everyone that level 100 was his goal and everyone thought it wasn’t possible. Everyone laughed and thought Noir was joking or playing pranks. They played along with a big smile. Only a few picked up that he thought it was real.

Trixie had never understood jokes well so she’d known he was serious from the beginning. What she didn’t understand was how he planned to achieve it. Then she’d heard him and Marty talking. She’d never really been able to sleep outside, and Noir’s voice was a constant reminder she wasn’t home. She’d heard his ‘20 levels’ theory and couldn’t believe it.

Did something special happen every 20 levels? Something they just couldn’t see or understand? And was level 100 really that special that you could evolve into a completely different species?

“Finding everything you need?” a voice asked, startling her.

She turned to find a young man in a long robe with the worst case of bedhead she’d ever seen. “Not really,” she admitted.

“I wondered. You’ve been here all day. You’ve been here before, I believe?”

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

“You were able to find a lot of books very quickly,” he said, gesturing to the pile in front of her. “Most researchers take hours before getting familiar with the stacks.”

“Oh.” That gave her some hope he wasn’t a stalker. “Yes, I come here sometimes when my mom passes through to trade for herbs and bottles. She makes potions.”

“You don’t live in the area?”

Trixie’s instincts were telling her to be cautious; no one was this friendly with a blue-haired short girl with her nose stuck in a book unless they wanted something. Not in her experience anyways.

Then again, her hometown was full of meatheads like Noir and Ash. Maybe a town with a library had a bit more appreciation for a smart girl with hidden race potential.

“We live within a day’s travel,” she said slowly, unsure which answer would be the safest and finally deciding on a vague truth. “What about you?”

“Oh, I live here.”

“In this town?”

“In this tower.”

Trixie let out a soft laugh. “Liar. Only the mage lives in the tower. He’s an old man by now, so there’s no way you’re him.”

The man smiled. Trixie could agree that he might be older than her—she was 20, and he could be around 25 or 26—but he wasn’t nearly the age he should be if he was the one living in the tower. “Is there something I can help with?” the stranger asked. “I’m something of an expert on the shelves here.”

Trixie bit her lip and wavered. What she was doing was something of an invasion of privacy. The level 100 thing was Noir’s secret, not hers, and she’d only found out about it because they were going on a quest together. Even the level 20 thing wasn’t something he’d directly told her, just something she’d overheard because she couldn’t sleep.

She was glad she’d moved on from the reincarnation novels. Asking a man to help her with those would’ve been embarrassing considering the first finds.

Just as she was about to tell the stranger no, a window popped up. It startled her enough that she let out a small yelp, drawing the gazes of a few other people lingering around and making her face turn a rather unsightly red that clashed profoundly with her hair.

[Knowledge Quest

A library has many answers. A guide is needed.]

“That’s not a quest, that’s a statement,” Trixie grumbled as she dismissed the notification. It was troubling because the gods didn’t interfere much with the lives of the living. It was assumed that the status windows were somehow automated so the gods could tackle more difficult tasks and weren’t used to communicate with people directly. Only someone with an oracle skill could hear the words of their god.

But sometimes she wondered if that itself was just a trick. A lie told by the church to gather power, perhaps, or maybe by the government to lower the importance of religion. She even doubted that the messages came from gods at all sometimes. Didn’t those ancient civilizations follow different gods? And they got status windows too. That was enough to convince her there was more to it than what they currently knew.

“I guess I can let you show me around,” Trixie conceded reluctantly. “But I don’t do favors or freebies. If you’re going to guide me around the library I need to do something for you too. I don’t want to owe you anything when this is done.”