Welcome to Discera
rating: +13+x

Dr. Wilbur Perduto let out a small groan as he crouched down to look at the lowest section of stone wall. Those ancient Mayan architects really weren't very considerate towards arthritic old professors. An intern could be doing this work, he supposed. Young, flexible, used to low standards of living. They had no problem navigating the ruined temples' tiered structures. Still, he wouldn't miss this for the world. Reading glyphs that hadn't been seen by human eyes in an age - it was still a thrill even after all these years.

So to his knees he went, using a brush to uncover the lowest writing. "Offering… Pass through… Serpent…" The archaeologist paused his mumbling, curiosity aroused. The writing on the other side of this wall was about science and collected knowledge. Kukulkan, the Mayan winged serpent god, often manifested as a warrior or caused an earthquake just to remind people he was still alive. What did a house of knowledge have to do with him? Dr. Perduto hastily stood up (with another exclamation of stiffness) and hurried towards the end of the weathered wall. There was a stone archway there, connecting to another long, crumbling wall. He ducked through the arch, intending to go back and check the other glyphs. It wasn't unlikely that his on-the-fly translation was incomplete. He wasn't exactly fluent in long dead Meso-American dialects, nobody was. But as the professor passed under the stonework, the blazing mid-day sunlight became more like a clouded evening. The humid air became crisp, still, and dry. He had time to think, am I home? before he registered the hooded figure staring directly at him. His last thought before fainting was that he smelled old paper. He loved that smell.

Sometime later, a tired looking young man appeared next to Shelf SouthWest 20N88W-CI, affectionately known as the "shelf with books about gods who actually, really, definitely don't exist, but who also might exist now that we gave them a shelf." He was greeted (read: intimidated) by the Docent Ven-Sel, and brought to the main hall. He was introduced to the giant, unnaturally tubular, and disarmingly friendly gigapede who resided there as a sort of administrator, and given a small brass "Library Card," which somehow had on it the ridiculous "middle name" he had given himself as a child. He was informed of the rules, some of which he recognized from any standard library (don't damage the books), and some of which he very much didn't (don't practice Bibliomancy around texts which are not yours and especially not ones that don't have copies). He inquired about getting back to where he came from, was given noncommittal answers as to if he would be able to. Upon trying to persuade them with the fact that he had college to get back to, he was cheerfully directed towards someplace called "Discera." He went in search of this place, perhaps they would know how to get him back home.

Stephen "Mind-seer" Trouver had spent much of his life reading fantasy, horror, and science fiction. He had played countless hours of Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. He legitimately thought he was psychic until he was eight years old. Perhaps that was why his mind accepted everything he saw so quickly. Ten armed men, skeletons wearing porkpie hats, and a kindly individual who looked for all the world like a human-shaped tomato, with a couple extra arms for spice. He walked past all these and more, rolling with them as easily as the culture shock from England to America.

The lycopersic man in particular gave Stephen the best and most coherent information on Discera, as well as directions to the main campus. Turns out it was a University of sorts, a "Multiversity," with schools from many worlds, including Physics, Stephen's current major. Perhaps he shouldn't be in such a hurry to leave this wonderful place.

Around the same time, a cheerful woman was wandering the shelves of the combination bookstore and coffee-shop she worked at. It was a very quiet shift, nobody on the streets this time of evening, and what was probably the last customer had finished their drink, bought a book, and left for home.

As she walked among the books, trying her hardest not to pick up one she had already read a dozen times, a melody came to mind. Unbeknownst to her, it was quite an old folk song, belonging to a "folk" which didn't exist long enough to earn a place in the records. So, alone in the shop, she began to hum. A simple melody, repetitious but not upbeat, and with no words.

Feeling privately like the beautiful, singing princess in a fairy tale, she reached out a hand to contact the end of a shelf. She sung the Apex of the melody while swinging around to the next aisle, under what could technically be considered an archway between bookshelves…

Serena Accentua remembered back to that moment a few years later. The Way had left her facing an open area in front of the Discera Admissions Office. Assuming herself to be dreaming, she followed the path which was very obviously laid out for her. Time went on, she studied whatever seemed interesting, and it became more and more clear that she was not, in fact, living a dream in the literal sense. Most helpful was a class appropriately titled "The Dream Conjecture," in which she learned to arrive at a conclusion for herself.

Shaking herself out of the daydream, she returned to the work before her. The translation homework for Dr. Perduto's class was due by the next time she saw him, and she wasn't making the pace she'd like to be. Ah well. She had always wanted to go to college anyway, and this is what she signed up for.

Welcome to Discera Multiversity.

This is a place rather off the beaten track of the common Library, an institution which seeks to promote learning of all kinds. Those who maintain it feel that it is well within the spirit of the Library itself to do this work, and make sure to offer any and all kinds of knowledge to any and all kinds of people.

This place has grown through the centuries, absorbing smaller schools and practices from Worlds and across Ways uncounted, hence the name. The teachers are near universally eccentric, the students almost as much so. The topics are endless, the studies are as light as dark and everything in between. The stories generated from just the residence area could fill an atrium, if an inspired reader should perceive my unwritten message…

Doctrina Enim Omnia.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License