Darkness faded slowly.

  Not like waking up from sleep.

  More like surfacing from deep water.

  Voices reached me first.

  “…easy now…”

  “…stubborn boy…”

  Warmth pressed against my chest.

  My ribs didn’t hurt.

  My shoulder didn’t burn.

  I opened my eyes.

  Wooden beams.

  Amber lantern light.

  Stacks of parchment.

  Orsik’s study.

  I blinked. The dwarf stood over me, one thick hand resting against my sternum. A faint golden glow pulsed beneath his palm, seeping into my body like liquid sunlight.

  “Took ye long enough,” Orsik muttered.

  I tried to sit up. Pain flared—and then vanished.

  “…Did I win?” I croaked.

  Orsik snorted. “Aye. Ye won.”

  He removed his hand and the glow faded.

  “The moment that ink devil fell,” he said, “the library breathed again. Shelves steadied. Maps stopped twistin’. My mind…” He tapped his temple. “Cleared.”

  He looked different in that moment. Not older exactly. Just more present. Sharper. Like someone had finally opened a window in a dusty room.

  “I felt ye collapse,” he added. “Was able to move the halls again. Brought ye here before ye bled out like an idiot.”

  I let out a weak laugh. “You’re welcome.”

  He grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like pride.

  I pushed myself upright. Lexi floated nearby, still and watchful.

  “You handled it,” Orsik said quietly. “Knew ye would.”

  Something in his tone made my throat tighten.

  “Didn’t feel like I had it handled,” I admitted.

  “Aye. That’s usually how it works. A hero wouldn’t be a hero if he knew he could handle it. Real heroes go against the odds and win anyway.”

  For a moment, the study was quiet. No whispering shelves. No shifting floors. Just lantern light and the smell of old paper.

  Then Orsik moved.

  He walked to a small cabinet behind his desk and opened it carefully. From inside, he pulled four glass vials and set them down one by one. Each made a soft, deliberate click against the wood.

  “I believe I owe ye a few vials of ink, or so Lexi tells me.”

  Fiery Ink (Common)

  A bright crimson liquid that shimmered faintly with heat.

  “Burns fast,” Orsik said. “Burns bright. Don’t get greedy with it.”

  Heavy Ink (Common)

  Thick, dark, and sluggish, like it resented being moved.

  “Weight’s useful,” he muttered. “If ye know where to put it.”

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  Toxic Ink (Common)

  A sickly green-black swirl that seemed to corrode the inside of the glass.

  “Poison’s ugly,” Orsik said bluntly. “But so is survival. I heard this one was a lifesaver, eh?”

  Then he placed a fourth vial on the desk.

  This one was darker. Almost alive. The liquid inside shifted in slow, hungry waves, like something breathing.

  Consuming Ink (Rare)

  “That one’s not mine,” Orsik said quietly. “That one’s hunger. Got it from the beastie ye killed. Thought ye might want it.”

  Finally, he hesitated. Then reached into his coat and pulled out one last vial.

  This one was different. Deep indigo, with golden flecks drifting slowly inside like distant stars.

  Orsik’s Ink (Epic)

  “That one’s mine,” he said softly. “Took me near a century to refine.”

  He slid it toward me.

  “Thought I’d pass it to someone who’ll actually use it. Consider it a token of my appreciation.”

  A system window appeared.

  Loot Acquired

  Fiery Ink ×1 (Common)

  Heavy Ink ×1 (Common)

  Toxic Ink ×1 (Common)

  Consuming Ink ×1 (Rare)

  Orsik’s Personal Formula ×1 (Epic)

  “What’s it do?” I asked.

  Orsik leaned back in his chair. “You’ll learn soon enough. Don’t waste it. And don’t forget what it’s for.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.”

  “Aye.”

  That was all he said.

  Silence settled again. Then Orsik looked at Lexi.

  She floated closer to him. Her pages trembled slightly.

  “I made her,” Orsik said quietly. “When my memory first started slippin’.”

  Lexi’s pages flipped.

  “I HELPED.”

  “Aye, ye did.” He smiled faintly. “But now the rot’s gone. My thoughts are my own again.”

  He looked at me.

  “She’s a book, lad. Books aren’t meant to sit still.”

  Lexi slowly turned toward me.

  “I CAN LEARN MORE.”

  Orsik nodded. “Fill her pages with things I never got to see.”

  Lexi hovered in place for a long moment, then drifted toward me.

  A system notification appeared:

  Secret Objective Complete

  Discover the Being Corrupting the Living Library — and the Archivist

  Reward Granted: Familiar Contract Available

  Lexi’s cover glowed softly.

  “MIKE,” she wrote.

  “You sure?” I asked her quietly.

  “It’s alright, son. We already spoke while ye were sleepin’,” Orsik said.

  “Sleeping? I was fighting for my life. I almost died.”

  They both ignored me.

  Lexi wrote again, slower this time.

  “ADVENTURES NEED RECORDING.”

  I looked at her, then at Orsik. He nodded.

  “…Okay,” I said.

  Instinctively, I reached out and placed my hand on her cover.

  Light flared between us.

  Familiar Contract Established

  Lexi — Level 9

  Mike’s Familiar

  Familiar Interface Unlocked

  New windows cascaded across my vision.

  Lexi’s Abilities

  Map Mode

  Note Mode

  Library Mode

  I exhaled slowly. “Guess we’re officially partners now.”

  Lexi wrote: “YES.” Then, smaller beneath it: “THANK YOU.”

  Orsik stood. “Exit’s waitin’.”

  He snapped his fingers.

  The study door shifted. Beyond it, a tall wooden door now stood: stable, still. A floor exit.

  He had moved it here.

  “You don’t waste time, do you?” I asked.

  “Libraries shouldn’t make guests wander,” he replied.

  I walked to the door, then paused and glanced back. “Thanks,” I said.

  Orsik waved a hand dismissively. “Get out of my library before I change my mind.”

  But he was smiling.

  I opened the door. Light poured through.

  As I stepped forward, Orsik’s voice followed me one last time.

  “Write somethin’ worth rememberin’, lad.”

  The world dissolved.

  Just like that, I was back in my home room.

  Me, Lexi… and Jeff.