Not even the amused chuckles in his head could cite a response from the almost comatose Taylor. Slumped forward on the desk, his head cushioned on one arm, he forced his eyes to focus on the words that seemed to always want to blur. He must've been reading for hours on end, yet it didn't really seem that long at all.
He'd expected to fall asleep within the first twenty minutes. But from the second he'd opened that book and read the first page, even an earthquake would have had trouble breaking his concentration. It was fascinating!
Whenever he read a good book, it always happened that he became so absorbed in what was happening, everything around him just ceased to exist. How many times had Zac had to snatch the book out of his hands just to get his attention?
He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even thought to question where the candle-lamp which now shone brightly in one corner of the desk had come from.
It was with that candle-lamp in one hand that he'd scoured the library, with the aid of Taliesin's exceptional navigational skills, looking for books referred to in the footnotes of 'Introductory Metaphysics'. Right now he was in the middle of reading a rather large volume (
in the 'Encyclopaedia of Druidic Philosophy & Theology') on transmigration -- better known as reincarnation. Past lives, future lives, parallel realities, it went against everything he'd ever been taught. Then why, when he read it through, did it all make so much sense?
Unfortunately, about the only sense he could see right now was the one that told him he needed sleep, and he needed it now.
What? Is the diligent scholar, so determined to learn everything in one night, finally succumbing to exhaustion?
"Not willingly High Merlin, not willingly,"
You've done remarkably well for a beginner. It would take most people weeks simply to allow themselves to give metaphysics any credibility. Especially one from your time, where anything that cannot be explained by puny human logic is discounted as nonsense.
"My time? Tell me, what year is this?"
That, is irrelevant. What is most important now is that you sleep. Anything you read right now, you'll have forgotten within twenty seconds.
"No, I won't. I can remember all thi"
How many times have you had to re-read the sentence you're on?
"I . . . um. . . ."
Can you even remember that?
"Um . . . I . . . but I can't stop now, it's still early,"
That depends on how you'd define 'early'.
"What do you mean? It's still dark," suppressing a yawn, Taylor forced his eyes open when he noticed they'd drifted closed. He heard the High Merlin chuckle.
I suppose three hours past dawn is early to some people.
"How can it be three hours past dawn? It's still dark,"
It's dark because you believe it should be.
"What?" he dragged a tired hand through his hair to push it back off his face. Within seconds, it was hanging over his eyes.
The library is sensitive to your wants. You wished it to be dark, so the library remained dark.
"So if I just tell your library to be light, it will?"
Precisely.
"Sure," he mumbled, managing to push himself up to stand, leaning on the desk. "Library, turn some lights on," the sudden burst of light near-blinded him. "Ow! Turn them off!" once more the library was plunged into darkness. "Thank-you" the chuckling was getting irritating, "Would you kindly stop laughing at me, High Merlin?"
I apologise.
And he kept on laughing.
"Yeah, real funny," Taylor slumped down into his chair once more, suddenly not caring if he fell asleep over the piles of books on the desk.
I speak from experience when I say that desk makes an extremely uncomfortable place to sleep.
"Experience?"
As hard as it might be to believe, I was your age once, and as eager for knowledge as you yourself are.
"Sure,"
Although, I was not as fortunate as you are.
"Why?" Taylor wasn't really listening; after wading through tides of information all night, he'd finally been washed back up on the beach and was content to lie there and wait for sleep.
I did not have a guide to tell me where the books I needed were, and which books would be best to start with, and when to quit while I was ahead and get some sleep.
"What?" yawning, Tay tried to get more comfortable, cushioning his head on his arm.
Jordan
"It's Taylor,"
Taylor, I suggest you follow the corridor to your left.
"Why?"
There's something there you may wish to see.
He was too tired to even dignify the High Merlin's suggestion with an answer. Hauling himself to his feet, he took the candle-lamp and followed the corridor to his left.
A few bends later, he came across it. Tired as he was, he still found the energy to gape. A door stood in the centre of the aisle, free space entirely surrounding it. Astounded, he walked around it, proving he wasn't hallucinating. How on earth ! How on earth indeed. If a book could float over to a desk, and a library changed its lighting on command, then why not a door standing in centre of a corridor, hundreds of feet away from the nearest wall?
"Where's this go?"
Into the labyrinth.
"Great,"
He stumbled down the fourth or was it fifth? set of steps in the twisted labyrinth. Tay'd lost count and he didn't particularly care; he was having trouble enough putting one foot after the other.
Take the second door to your right.
"Which one's that?"
The green one.
"Oh," the scent of rain-washed vegetation bathed his senses as he stepped inside and closed the door.
I think this will do.
Not noticing the simple beauty of the forest, all he saw was the bed, nestled inside a smooth niche carved into a rock face. He collapsed onto it, serenaded by the sound of a stream slipping over mossy rocks, asleep before his head found the soft pillow.
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