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“How many other people know for certain that this is the Library of legend?” Alex asked. “And are able to explore it?”

“Other than myself? Very few. From what I’ve heard, all current and previous headmasters of Akarnae are made aware of the Library’s existence, but they don’t necessarily have access to all of its secrets.”

“But I’m not a headmaster!”

Darrius chuckled. “No, you’re not. But the Library may choose to reveal itself to anybody who it believes worthy. You’ve been Chosen, Alexandra. You should feel honoured.”

Alex wasn’t sure what she felt, so she asked another question. “The guy who opened the academy all those years ago—Eanraka, right? As in, ‘Akarnae’ spelt backwards? Seriously, he couldn’t think of anything more creative?”

When Darrius didn’t respond, she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Anyway… You said he was a—a Meyarin? What is that?”

Darrius looked deep into her eyes and answered, “Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t have heard of them yet. Their existence is not openly discussed these days.”

Before she could say anything, Darrius stood and walked over to his bookcase.

“I’m familiar with some of the literature from your world,” he said as he rifled through the titles, “and as best as I can compare, you would understand those from Meya to be called ‘elves’ or ‘fair folk’, though no such translation exists here. They are simply those who have existed from the beginning. They are immortal beings, often referred to as ‘the graced ones’. They can be killed just like any other creature, but if left alone they’ll live forever, since their bodies are immune to illness and decay.

“Their race is unlike any other. They are beautiful to behold and blessed with inhuman strength, speed, agility and intellect. They can be either your greatest ally and most trusted companion, or your worst enemy and most treacherous adversary.”

It was all a bit too much for Alex. “Are you telling me that you haveelveshere? Because I don’t know what ‘literature’ you’ve read, but the only books that have elves in them are works of fiction. Elves aren’t real.”

She paused before adding, “And for that matter, how do you know I’m from another world? Or even what my name is?”

Darrius didn’t answer immediately, and she started to rise nervously from her seat. But then he let out a quiet, “Ah-ha!” and pulled a book from the shelf, turning back to her. “Sit down, Alexandra. You have no reason to fear me,” he said distractedly as he flicked through the pages. “I know who you are and where you’ve come from because the Library told me.”

He walked over to his desk and absentmindedly picked up a piece of paper which he passed to her.

Alexandra Jennings: third year transfer student, originally from Freya.

“Who wrote this?” Alex said, staring in awe at the ancient-looking calligraphy. As she watched, more words appeared on the page.

Is it so hard to believe in a sentient Library?

She gaped at the page as one final sentence appeared before it was wiped clean:

Embrace the wonder.

Darrius either didn’t notice her shocked expression, or he ignored it to answer her question. “I believe it’s one of the secrets of the Library that’s too difficult for us mere mortals to understand. I learned long ago that some things are meant to remain a mystery.”

Alex had no choice but to accept his answer, and she placed the now-blank paper to the side, where it immediately vanished.

“Now, where were we?” Darrius asked. “I think you were talking about your ‘elves’ not being real. And yes, I’m aware that’s true where you’re from. But history is different here.”

He handed her the book he’d found, motioning for her to take a look. The page was already open and the writing was in a language she’d never before seen, but it was the picture that he clearly intended for her to see. There were two people, one male and one female, standing in a forest clearing with the moonlight streaming down on them. Even in a two-dimensional portrait, they seemed to jump out of the page and demand her attention. They were both so hypnotically beautiful that Alex could have continued staring at them for hours.

“As you can see, they paint quite an enchanting picture,” Darrius said, closing the book and moving to place it back on the shelf.

Alex felt the loss as if it was a physical detachment and she stared longingly at the bookcase. “What happened to them?”

“No one really knows,” Darrius said. “One day they were amongst us, the next they weren’t. Their city, Meya, and its surrounding forests just vanished into thin air, along with their entire race. It’s one of our greatest mysteries, and while there are many theories, no human knows the complete truth of what happened.”

“How long ago was this?” Alex asked.

Darrius thought for a moment. “History isn’t so clear on that account. Thousands of years ago, at the very least. I would estimate the time to be perhaps a few hundred years after Eanraka discovered the Library. That’s not so great a time considering the Meyarin lifespan.”

Alex let that sink in and said, “Okay, I think I’ve had all the history I can take for, oh, the next five years.” He chuckled and she continued, “But thanks, Darrius, for answering my questions.”

“Anytime, dear child, anytime.”