Just Another Wanderer
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A sticky note is stapled to this page and reads: "If I ever find out who wrote this one, I'm gonna be paying their reality a visit! - A.V.


Deep in the farthest reaches of the Library where the light did not reach there sat a man, a quill held tightly between his fingers. To call him a man was a bit of a stretch, as his current body was that of a old and bleached skeleton. His soul though was that of a human's, for those with such an ability to see it. He was busy at work transcribing the last bit of an ancient tome, the cover depicting a ferocious dragon with a man between it’s teeth and the title, Tales of Valor: 5th Edition.

“Oh, almost didn’t see you there!” He exclaimed as he turned around in his seat. However there was nobody in his immediate vicinity, only insurmountable amounts of tomes and texts.

“No, I mean you!” he said, pointing a bony finger at one of the bookcases directly behind him. He sighed, his palm coming to rest on his forehead.

“This is a story, isn't it? Just leave me be for a few more minutes, alright? I gotta finish transcribing this last part,” he oddly said to nobody at all in an exasperated tone.

“I’ll show you oddly….piece of crap….” the odd skeleton mumbled to himself, continuing his work. Twenty or so minutes passed before he turned in his chair once again, facing the bookshelf behind him.

“So what, want me to tell my life story or something? Is that what this is about?” he said, his whiny voice full of annoyance as he spoke to thin air.

“Whiny!? Oh, you son of a…..fine. I’ll talk about myself, will that make you happy? The name’s Anton Volek, Professor at Derosena University. Don’t even ask where it is, I don’t remember anyway.”

His introduction to the wall was rather short and didn’t address his most notable attribute, that being his skeletal body. To the Docents that no doubt heard his ramblings, he was probably thought of as an odder patron.

“Ramblings?! Ever heard of timing? I was just about to get to that! Don’t rush a good story. The reason I’m like this is because of those damn Ways. Y’know, those things that you use to get in and out of here? See, I got this special condition that sorta…transplants my soul sometimes when I use one. So, this is my newest body!"

Volek grabbed his skull and in one quick motion detached it, holding it in one hand around his ribcage. "Pretty freakin neato, right?! Kinda reminds me of this one time…."

The skeleton continued to ramble on for twenty or so minutes, supplying useless anecdotes of his childhood that had little to no relevance to his current condition or his reason for being in the Library.

“Did you just skip me? Don’t fucking skip me! So what, you want to get to why I’m in the Library? Fine, we’ll play by your rules you little shit. I’m here because I’m researching things and making…this!” Volek withdrew a large tome from under the table and slammed it down onto the table.

Its cover had no art, engravings, or any other depictions. It merely stated in golden and fanciful letters, "Professor Volek's Compendium of Mysterious Pieces and Tales." Compared to many of the dusty and decaying works in the Library, the Compendium was rather impressive.

“Why thank you! It’s my life’s work after all.” he said with ill-hidden smugness.

However, there were no doubt others on a much grander scale elsewhere in the Library.

“Why’d you have to add that part?” Volek said in an dejected voice as he thumped his forehead on the cover of the book.

“Anyways, yea, this is what I’m working on. I go from place to place collecting works to put in my compendium. So, I make a stop by the Library every now and then to grab a copy of something that draws my fancy.”

Many were no doubt left wondering as to why this strange skeleton with rambling anecdotes was going through all of this effort to put together this compendium. There were countless works in the Library, so why go through all the trouble?

“Alright, gonna ignore the first part. I’m putting this together because…I’m bored, I guess. It gives me something fun to do. Some things don't need grandiose excuses.”

It could hardly be considered a good reason and left many with-

“Oh, shove it.”

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