Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

What do you get when you put a fox, an owl, a humanoid bird, and an anthropomorphic wolf all under the same non-euclidean roof alongside a power armored human? If there was anyone out there who was capable of answering this then I applaud their creativity, because personally, I was at a loss for words.

There I was yet again, sandwiched within layers of synthetic weave and metal composites, staring down an owl whose eyes betrayed a look of sullen annoyance that bordered on outright disdain. All the while the incessant unmitigable pings of push notification after push notification kept reminding me that this was in fact my current reality, and not some fever dream stemming from a night of heavy binge reading.

The owl that had entered with the theatrics befitting of an endgame boss had now positioned itself just a few feet away from me. So close that I now felt one of the worst bouts of tonal whiplash slapping me across the face, as all of the sinister flair it’d incurred from its dramatic entrance had all but been cast aside by way of its short and pudgy stature.

What should have been the arrival of a beast, rivaling the scale and ferocity of a dragon, was instead replaced by a small plump owl. Not a dragon owl, mind you. Nor some sort of an owl-like beast. But a regular, almost insultingly, normal-sized owl. One that barely reached my shins if I were to be generous and count its hat as part of its total height. It was as if a dungeon master had pulled out all the stops in the buildup to an endgame boss, only to whip out a dollar store model of the boss in question, completely undermining what should have been the highlight of the entire experience.

Our stare-down felt like it’d gone on for an entire minute, before finally, it grew tired of me, and walked straight past me altogether; focusing on the fox as the poor thing bowed its little head in response. Its snout all but resting on the cold marble floor of the library, whimpering out small little cries as it stared up meekly at the owl.

“So. Buddy now, is it?” The owl finally spoke, its voice… was very much what I’d expected of a creature of its size. Sure it was deep, but only as deep as an owl’s hoot could really go, with the rest of its intonation eerily smooth and composed. Whereas the fox had an animated quality to him, each and every word punctuated with yips, yaps, and an undercurrent of excitable foxness, the owl instead carried itself more akin to a person. Dare I say it, it carried itself more in a manner more distinguished than a majority of the student body I’d met to date, Ilunor included.

“Y-yes Librarian.” The fox yipped out meekly, just before the scene took an unexpected turn. Without warning, and without any hesitation, the owl stepped forward and pressed its claw firmly against the fox’s head. Its blunted talons tightened, clenching the fox’s scalp in an iron grip, cinching up its warm orange fur in the process.

“Yours is a story of consistent inconsistency. For a great achievement has been sullied by an unsatisfactory transaction. A transaction which favors the knowledge seeker, but not the knowledge holder. An unfairness has occurred, and the library is nothing if not fair. So please, Buddy, utilize your newfound position to strike a balance where an imbalance has been incurred.” The owl spoke in a manner that sounded more like instruction than condescension. Almost as quickly as it had begun its assault on the fox, so too did it stop, as it relented, and merely positioned itself atop of the fox’s head. Using it as a perch as Buddy now approached me, staring warily at my opaque lenses.

“Cadet Emma Booker, as your personal library assistant, it is my responsibility to both represent your interests and that of the library’s. I apologize if I have not made this relationship clear at first, and I apologize if I have underperformed in my capacity as a facilitator of knowledge. It is clear at this point that I have disproportionately favored my responsibilities to you as our patron, and disregarded my responsibilities to the library as its assistant. I have undervalued the knowledge bestowed upon you from this library, and for that I must also apologize. There now exists a deficit that must be corrected. In short, the library requires that a toll be paid for the services which I have rendered.” Buddy spoke in a manner that clearly indicated he didn't want to do this, but rather, had to do this as part of whatever responsibilities he was bound to.

A part of me would’ve been massively impressed by the fox’s ascent into business-formal eloquence, especially considering how most of our interactions up until this point had been decidedly less than business casual. That part of me however was kept more or less in check by more pressing concerns.

“A toll?” I parroted back. “I did say I’m not in the market for info-brokerage, and you explicitly stated that my presence here was sufficient enough payment for granting us access to the information we were after.” I stated plainly.

The owl let out a series of purposefully placed hoots at my rebuttal, each and every one carrying with it an overture of disappointment that caused the fox it was perched atop to whine out in apologetics.

“You have neglected to inform our new patron of the rules and standards of the library?” The owl spoke, the conversation once again directed not towards me but the fox.

“I… I have only hinted at it briefly, librarian. Although I was intending to inform her of it once-”

The owl all but shot down the fox’s attempt at an excuse with a simple remark. “There is a time and a place for apologies, but this isn’t one of them, Buddy.” There was a terseness to its voice, yes, but there was something else to it that I found surprising given what I’d expected from a place like this. There was a sense of genuine honesty there. This wasn’t another one of the Nexus’ thinly veiled attempts at a petty jab, nor was it some attempt at instruction coated with contempt and interpersonal rivalry. No. This was one of the few instances of a conversation that didn’t carry with it any duplicitous undertones. “I shall take the reins as the primary conduit, and you shall remain in my shadow. Watch carefully, and let this be a learning experience.” The owl spoke calmly, before shifting its orange face towards me.

I took charge, setting the stage for the conversation on my own terms.

“Whilst I could go into a whole rant regarding my personal reservations on info-brokerage, I’m going to assume you have some sort of convoluted reasoning as to how this whole arrangement doesn’t actually constitute as info-brokering?” I immediately started off the conversation, making my stance known without going too far into outright false assumptions. It would be so easy to simply construct my own narrative on this place, to create a set of fixed false beliefs right out of the gate. But it wouldn’t be the right, nor the smart thing to do. I had my personal gripes, but I was willing to hear out the other side before I came to my own conclusions.

“The library appreciates that its newest patron is one that presents with a level head and an open mind. Albeit your choice of words can be construed as confrontational, I cannot fault you for your current dispositions, given the transactional faux pas incurred by your personal assistant; and by extension myself. For this, I take personal accountability.” The owl nodded once, or rather, rolled its head back and forth in a way an owl only could. I know this might sound crazy, especially given the track record of those in charge in the Nexus thus far, but I felt like the owl actually meant everything it said. In fact, it seemed outright apologetic. Sure it was wordy, but it was an admission of guilt and a genuine attempt to take responsibility. Something I haven’t actually yet seen in this place thus far.

Is this an actual reasonable, level-headed person in a position of power? Guess the SIOP manual’s section of conventional diplomacy is going to be of use after all.

“My people sent me here with the intent of establishing constructive and open dialogue. Open mindedness and a willingness to compromise, within reason, with a goal of reaching mutual understanding are just some of the defining characteristics of myself and the civilization I hail from. Whilst this doesn’t mean I’ll take everything at face value, it does mean that I’m willing and able to sit down for a civil conversation, as long as there exists a reciprocation of mutual respect.” I offered, setting down the ground rules of the conversation.

This clearly intrigued the owl, as it straightened itself atop of the fox’s head.

“Open mindedness and a willingness to compromise. Constructive and open dialogue. Mutual understanding.” The owl parroted back, taking the time to ponder on each and every one of the buzzwords I’d brought over from those diplomacy 101 classes. “Tell me, Cadet Emma Booker, are those words of your own choosing, or are they the words of a wiser elder speaking through you?”

I paused at that, taking the scant few seconds of silence to choose between going down the diplomatic ratrace that was the SIOP conversational algorithm, or adding my own spin to the mix. “I’m afraid that if I answer that question, it will be you who will have incurred a deficit of knowledge on your part. I refuse to enter another transaction before the full extent of the rules of the library are revealed to me first.” I decided on the latter, really embracing the personal initiative aspects of my mission parameters.

The Director did say a lot of this mission would fall into adapting and improvising to my surroundings after all…

The owl didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as blink, as I could feel a response formulating behind those intelligent eyes. The thing clearly wasn’t capable of smiling, not with its beak, but the tone of voice it used was more than enough for me to know that it was enjoying my response. “It has been far too long since I have interacted with a being with a willingness for measured conversation such as yourself, Cadet Emma Booker.” It hooted back with an undercurrent of restrained amusement. “I respect your terms Cadet Emma Booker, so long as you are able to support the integrity of your words with your actions.”

I allowed those words to sink in for a few moments.

“You will find that the rules of this realm, unlike that of the Nexus’, are simple and straightforward. For we were established and constructed to perform one, simple, and unwavering task: to collect, organize, and preserve all forms of knowledge in perpetuum. Every aspect of our existence serves to facilitate these aims, and every rule was written with this in mind. Here you will not find the petty squabbles of the world beyond our walls, but instead, an unflinching commitment and devotion to the library and everything it stands for.”

There was a pause, as the beady little eyes of the hundreds, if not thousands of foxes once more poked in from the dark corners of the ever shifting room.

“For the library is eternal, but the mortal world is not. Knowledge without preservation is meaningless, and we are the keepers of meaning.” A thousand voices spoke all at once, only to disappear as soon as they’d appeared.

“Many may misconstrue our words as an explicit slight against the world beyond our walls. This couldn’t be further from the truth. We wish no ill will on the worlds and realms beyond our own, for we do not care for them aside from the knowledge they may provide. This serves as the context for our first rule, one that may not concern your activities within the library but which defines the existence of the library itself. Rule number one: The library exists to serve no one but itself, but does not expressly bar anyone from entering its walls.” The owl hooted deeply, taking a moment to gauge my reactions, despite very much being aware that the helmet obscured anything happening beneath it.

“Rule number two: The library exists as a keeper of knowledge, but does not prohibit the access of said knowledge from those who seek it.”

“Rule number three: The library exists as a collector of knowledge, and encourages exchanges of any and all pieces of knowledge no matter how trivial or how significant.”

“Rule number four: The library does not exist to expedite the search of knowledge for those who seek it, with the sole exception of those who are willing to trade knowledge for this service.”

“Heh, so much for all that talk about being the great provider of knowledge to all.” Thalmin’s gruff and grizzly voice quickly interjected, breaking the self-imposed silence he’d held throughout much of this mission.

“This is a misunderstanding on the part of the misinformed Nexian and Adjacent Realmer masses. We exist not to provide knowledge, but merely as a repository that may be accessed. That is all.” The owl quickly corrected the Lupinor, before turning back to me.

“Rule number five: To those that the library deems worthy, a title of patronage shall be bestowed. Amongst the privileges of patronage is the assignment of a personal assistant, and a written title of honor that shall act as a calling card for your personal assistant and myself should the patron request an expedited transaction.”

With the rules having been laid out, and with the owl remaining eerily silent at the end of it all, I decided to get to business. “At which point did the deficit start?” I asked plainly.

“At the point wherein the second line of questioning began, Cadet Emma Booker. Your first transaction was satisfactory. You entered the library requesting for a brief, succinct description of the ritual of duplicity and nulls. The compensation for the service of both information indexing and collation have since been paid. Your second line of questioning, expanding beyond the parameters of your first, was the point in which the deficit started.” The owl explained clearly.

“The first line of questioning being paid by my, ‘mere presence here is payment enough’, correct?” I asked the owl, directly quoting the fox’s statement from earlier before.

“This is, indeed, correct.” The owl nodded once.

“Could I ask just how exactly my mere presence here was payment enough for information that’s so clearly valuable and sensitive?”

It was at this point that the owl’s eyes widened and narrowed in rapid succession, as if in disbelief at my words, before finally resigning itself to an answer. “You underestimate and undervalue your presence here, Cadet Emma Booker.” The owl hooted out sincerely. “It is no exaggeration when I say that your very being alone has been enough to fill the contents of an entire book. Why, Buddy here, now has an entire new thesis to write up based on the information he was able to gather with his inspection of your person and your armor.”

I shot a questioning glance at the fox, who seemed to intuitively know my intent as he whimpered out a series of guilty whines.

“Why don’t you explain what makes Cadet Emma Booker so exceptional, that her presence here is of immense value, Buddy?” The owl turned to Buddy who gulped nervously before speaking.

“From the superficial observations of the material alone… the colors, textures, temperature, and sensations of the exotic metals that constitute your armor plates, to the way the fabric underneath shifts, bends, and moves; every aspect of your person, and the materials that adorn you is wholly and truly novel. It is unlike anything we have seen. It is unlike anything ever referenced within the annals of this library. It is exceedingly rare to meet a being possessing materials so novel, especially with the Nexus’-”

The owl shushed the overexcitable fox before he could continue.

“That is just one small aspect of the value of your mere presence here, Cadet Emma Booker.” The owl continued, before moving to lock its gaze on my vocoder, initiating a completely unrelated tangent. “Your suit, and your unique vocalizations brings me to my next point… You aren’t speaking High Nexian, are you, Cadet Emma Booker?” It uttered out confidently and with little in the way of a tone of genuine inquiry, but rather, a statement drenched in a paper-thin facade of inquiry.

“I don’t see how any of this is relevant to the conversation-”

“Consider this the payment for the knowledge deficit thus far. Now tell me. Do you, or do you not, speak High Nexian?” It asked back in a sing-song fashion, complete with a dulcet hoot toward the end of that sentence.

“No. I do not.” I answered simply, succinctly, the answer to which was received with looks of genuine disbelief from the likes of Thacea and Thalmin. Both of whom seemed to be doing a complete double take of the entire situation, with the pair moving in closer to one another perhaps with the intent of discussing just what my answer entailed. “How did you know?” I quickly retorted.

“Ahh, it is the manner by which you choose your words, Cadet Emma Booker. There is a… mathematical precision to your manner of speech. As if there is some greater artifice powering a mechanism whose sole purpose it is to carefully and precisely pick and prod at the sum total of the Definitive Collection of the High Nexian Dictionary, processing it through the structural works of the Definitive Instruction on High Nexian Grammar Rules, and using some form of complex mathematical decision making processes to determine what words will end up where, and how it is to be structured with the precision of a mathematical formula.” The owl touted with an enormous sense of pride. “Which leads me to believe that your words are not your own, but instead a living, breathing, dynamic system of mathematics that converts whatever language it is you speak, to High Nexian. A truly innovative, truly novel solution. Elegant, graceful, and immensely intriguing.” It was at this point that the owl started to sound increasingly alike to the fox, its thirst for knowledge very much seeping into how it carried itself as it sat three perched atop of the fox’s head.

To say that the owl was correct in its assertions would be an understatement. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought anyone from this reality would’ve been able to so accurately sum up the complex machinations of the onboard translation suite, and its associated software so succinctly without the knowledge of what software even was. Instead, the owl relied on what it knew, and what it knew was clearly enough to interpret the fact the entire charade of language I was putting on, was indeed, translated. The work of thousands of leading linguists and software developers dissected each and every line of the few scraps of knowledge the Nexus had sent us prior to my arrival. The two books that we received and dissected, corresponding to the two books the owl was so quick to reference.

“Am I correct in my deliberation, new one?” The owl snapped me out of my reverie.

“Is my answer to your first question concerning your assertions, payment enough for the information deficit?” I shot back.

Which once again seemed to delight the owl as it shifted its little head to and fro. “Yes, yes it is, Cadet Emma Booker. You are under no obligation to confirm nor deny my second line of questioning.”

I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts, before it finally clicked. There was still another vital piece of intel that I was critically lacking at this point. Whilst the threat of the null had been expanded upon and narrowed down, it didn’t seem to include just how it was this threat was to be dealt with. I didn’t know if a bullet in the head was all it needed, or whether or not I needed to whip out a flamethrower to burn it to ash.

This was the perfect instance to trade for said intel.

“Actually, I would like to answer that question.” I offered.

“Oh? Now, for what piece of knowledge would you like to trade this for, Cadet Emma Booker?” The owl spoke in a sing-song fashion.

“Nulls. Or rather, how to kill one.” I spoke in no uncertain terms.

It was with that single line of question that yet another book was violently pulled out from the shelves, landing in front of Thacea, as the owl seemed to understand just how our group dynamics seemed to function.

“The dispatching of a null can take one of two distinct forms. One of brute physicality, or one of magical acumen. For the former, the application of any sufficient physical forces directed towards the core of the creature should be sufficient. Though determining where the creature’s core lies will be a challenge even for the most determined of magically-deficient combatants. For the latter, the application of a Class 10 spell of disassembly or transfiguration will be necessary for the removal of the null’s core; wherein sufficient force will later be applied to destroy it in its entirety.” Thacea once more read verbatim, her speech hitching up a bit as she went over the class of spell that was required.

The book closed unexpectedly, as the owl’s eyes once more locked with my own, expecting me to uphold my end of the bargain.

“To answer your question, yes, you’re more or less right. I am using a… system, one of incredibly complex mathematics to translate all being spoken to me and all being spoken from me.” I acknowledged, garnering a series of approving hoots from the owl.

“Let us consider this transaction completed, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“You’re really willing to give us all of this intel just for a yes no question?” I shot back skeptically.

“The library has a vested interest in transactions which will aid in keeping its patrons alive for future transactions, Cadet Emma Booker. Which reminds me, I would like to bestow upon you, your title.” The owl spread its wings, and flew straight up at that. Not so much flying but instead, shooting straight up like a rocket at impossible speeds.

A scant few seconds passed before it returned, holding a small rectangular card in its beak.

The card was the size of your average physical ID, just slightly thicker, and made of solid gold. Reaching over to grab it from the owl’s beak, I noticed the finer details that looked as if it’d been laser-etched on. On it was my name, rank, and a large number of blank spaces clearly meant for the rest of my personal information.

It didn’t take long for me to realize just what it was.

A glorified library card.

“Cadet Emma Booker. Henceforth you shall be known as a Patron of The Library. This is a title that carries with it immense weight and honor within these walls. Whether or not this title carries over beyond this space is none of our concern. It does, however, mean that you hold rights and privileges beyond that of the average knowledge-seeker. Should you require any additional assistance, or should you wish for any further transactions, the library shall expedite it to the best of our abilities.” There was a pause, as the fox eyed the owl warily for a few seconds as if to remind it of something.

“I would be remiss if I did not inform you that it will be well within your rights to deny this honor or reject this honor now, or at any point in time you wish.” The owl nodded his little head.

“I do hope you accept it, Emma, I’m so very excited to be seeing you around for more visits!” The fox mewled and yipped in excitement, jumping up and down a few times as it beamed out a happy little smile, punctuated by those excitable noises entirely unique to the vulpine race. “And for more belly rubs and head pats…”

I tucked the card into one of the suit’s pockets after giving the pair an appreciative nod. Behind me, I could see both Thacea and Thalmin’s expressions shift to one of utter disbelief, perhaps at how effortlessly I’d acquired the card. Whilst Thacea’s face was harder to read, given the beak, Thalmin’s was easy enough to discern from how he had to do a double-take at the whole scene.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an acceptance speech prepared. But I’m honored that you’d consider me for such an honor. Truly, thank you.” I paused for a moment, my gaze trained on the owl as I decided to ask just one more question. “I must ask, why aren’t you asking me for the rest of the information that’s been left out from the card?”

“While it is within the library’s interests to collect as much in the way of knowledge as possible, the manner in which this knowledge is collected is also important to us. You are a patron, Cadet Emma Booker, it would be unbecoming of the library to hawk you for every last scrap of information. We know that one day, you shall reveal all there is to know. Whether that day is measured in weeks, months, years, decades, or centuries does not matter to us. For the library is eternal, and we are here whenever you may require our services once again.” There was a level of finality and confidence there that was difficult to really shake off. It truly felt like the owl wasn’t just speaking with an inflated sense of ego, but instead, out of factual observation. “I assume this shall be all for this visit, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“Yes.”

“Then Buddy shall lead you to the entrance hall. From there, you may exit back into your world.” The owl took flight, flying closer to me than ever before. “Until we meet again, Cadet Emma Booker.” Its voice echoed throughout the library, as it flew out of sight.

The journey back towards the entrance took even less time this time around, as only a scant few minutes later we found ourselves once again in that forever shapeshifting room. The hallways made up of bookshelves and untold quantities of unknown paraphernalia ebbed and flowed like a particularly nausea inducing screen saver.

As we were escorted out, we spotted a few other figures roaming other halls, led by their own foxes, with one figure in particular being stalled near the front entrance.

A familiar blue-scaled Vunerian that was fuming in heated vitriol against yet another library fox.

“Do you realize who you are talking to right now, fox?! I’m telling you to get your librarian here, right this instant!” The little thing yelled loudly, far louder than I’d ever heard him yell before as the fox had only one thing to say in response.

“I’m afraid that will not be possible. The librarian is currently preoccupied with matters far more important than your own, mortal.” The little thing stood firm, assertive in its place, as Ilunor continued to seethe and fume.

I turned to Buddy just before we left the threshold, making a point to kneel down for a moment, in order to hold the little thing’s face in between both of my hands. “See you next time, Buddy!” I spoke, making sure it was loud enough for Ilunor to hear.

“Of course! Your personal library assistant shall be here, ready and willing to help whenever you return next, Emma!” The fox returned with an excitable yap, just as I turned to face Ilunor for a wink only I was privy to.

With a few more steps we finally left the threshold and were thrust back into the real world.

The roaring of the waterfall hit us first, as both Thacea and Thalmin turned to me at the same time.

“What now?” Thalmin asked with a heavy breath.

“Now, we head to the courtyards.” I turned to my onboard HUD, just to confirm that we were still on schedule for the task ahead. “We have an appointment with a certain apprentice to keep.”