Papercuts

Loren not afraid to use every trick in the book Loren wasn’t sure what was going on here—it was entirely possible this was some sort of elaborate illusion he’d been trapped in—but unless and until that was proven or disproven the former librarian was choosing to treat it as their new reality. If that was true, they needed to start coming together, not falling apart, either individually or as a group. "Yeah, well, it happened, so we need to learn to deal with it. And we need to take care of ourselves." While the former duke’s words might’ve been harsh, his tone was as kind as he could manage; they were all still freaking out, it seemed, and they could all use a bit of peace and calm. Unfortunately, he seriously doubted they were going to get it. Already Loren was regretting engaging with Ronin about patrolling: trust the former captain to throw himself into working to avoid thinking. It was a bad and nasty habit that the magician knew well, since he did it himself. Still, at least it made it easier to recognize it in others. "Oh yeah? And just who are you expecting to patrol with you? Or were you just gonna handle it all on your own, like you always try and inevitably fail to do?" Loren’s voice was equal parts teasing and chiding; if the other man wanted to take offense, so be it, but their previous discussion about Ronin’s downward spiral had been interrupted. This time the librarian wasn’t going to let the ex-captain off the hook so easily. Placing his hand on Ronin’s shoulder, the Launceleyn smiled at his friend. "I’m glad you’re holding up, but our problems here aren’t ones you can patrol or punch away." That wouldn’t stop the former baron from trying: Ronin seemed to have a talent for solving problems (that he usually created to begin with) with violence and workaholism. It was better than alcoholism, at least, but still not good. Yeah, light wasn’t the problem here. The problem was the books and scrolls themselves: there was no rhyme or reason to this place, either in terms of the languages, the contents, or the presence of this knowledge at all. "I don’t understand. Based on the dust in this place, no one’s been here in many years, but many of the volumes seem to be in good shape." The former duke wasn’t going to get into the specifics of that statement—he wasn’t sure Ronin would even understand—but Loren knew that this was an anomaly. "We’ve got more important issues to worry about. And I’m not sure what’s preserved these." What went unspoken was that they might not be alone here. Something had taken care of this place and managed not to leave a mark.