As luck would have it I was brought here under the wildest circumstances. I’ve now found myself in the exact place I have sought out for so long. The Coroner’s Library: the burial place of all knowledge.
I looked out into the expanse. It stretched out into infinity. Filled with cracked and rotted wood that now only held dust and weathered bindings of books that once were.
The ground was littered with torn pages and piles of filth and old book covers. Only illuminated by the cracks in the decaying ceiling. What lay beyond those cracks I did not know. There was just dark blue light that expanded outward as far as I could see: no stars, no clouds, nothing.
There was a wooden spiral staircase to my right. Like everything else here it was in a state of decay so after giving it a slight test with my foot I walked down to the bottom floor. Down here the bookshelves towered over me like hollow giants. They looked so much smaller up on the balcony.
After walking for a bit, I started to hear whispered giggling and excited chatter coming from up ahead. It sounded like there were a couple of people talking to each other, however, when I rounded the corner I only saw a lone old man. His head was deep into a book and he spoke constantly to himself.
“Hey, what you reading there man.” I asked as I approached him.
The old man gave no response. He only continued to talk to himself. At this distance, I could finally make out what he was saying.
“Yes… Yes, it all makes sense now. The only way to make it is to combine two separate souls into one. Physically and spiritually, all energies can coalesce into one supreme entity. The Hermaphrodite. To think the solution to all of alchemy were within these halls…”
He trailed off as he spoke, his words turning into mumbles and then hums as he read on. The confusing part about this encounter was that he wasn’t reading an alchemy book, or any kind of science book for that matter. What he held in his hands was some kind of rendition of Marry Had a Little Lamb, except instead of a regular lamb there was a demonic red version of the animal on the cover with Mary in its mouth.
Not only that, but the book was in such a decrepit state that the cover and about two pages were all that were left. To which the old man kept flipping through back and forth continuously. The pages were all faded as well, there wasn’t a word to be read left on them, yet he traced his fingers along the paper as if he could see the invisible words.
He paid me no mind as I drew near. Never stopping his ramblings and never once taking his eyes off the book. It wasn’t long before I gave up on speaking to him and continued my venture through the library. Hoping that I wouldn’t end up consumed by knowledge like the old man.
However, while thinking of the old man’s fate a thought crossed my mind. Every one of the books in this library was almost dust. Words faded, old pages fell from their bindings, and covers torn to shreds. Yet, he was able to read them. This was the burial place for all knowledge after all, so what if…
I grabbed a random book off one of the shelves. Its cover was in taters and moths flew out of the pages when I opened it. The pages disintegrated between my fingers as I tried to turn them, but still, I persisted. I tried to envision myself reading this book, enjoying its contents, and basking in the knowledge that was within its pages. Gradually, the pages began to stiffen. Words began to fade in through the paper and it wasn’t long before I was reading through their contents.
My hunch was correct! It seems the key to unlocking the secrets to this dead library was to resurrect the books yourself. Through the pursuit of knowledge and the will to grasp it.
I quickly became engrossed with the book I was reading. It turns out this book was a compendium of lost mechanical machines and alternative ones of ones we’ve already created.
There were diagrams of space elevators powered by electromagnetism. They were encased in vacuum tubes, so without the friction of air they could move faster than the speed of sound.
Biological computers that the user could interface with their thoughts. You could drive a car, fly a plane, and download all the information in the world with only a thought to make it so. Hell, they even had pet rocks that spoke back to you.
These ideas and invitations were spectacular, however, they were not what captivated me. It was the fact that I could somehow understand the complex math and concepts that went into creating them. By no means am I mathematically or mechanically inclined. I can’t even change the oil on my own car, so in all reality, I should not have understood what I was reading. Yet the theorems and theories melted into my mind like they had always been there. Like an old memory that I had long forgotten.
It seems that not only does this library hold exquisite knowledge, but it somehow bestows the reader with the intelligence to understand them as well. So, not only can I gain a wealth of knowledge here, but I can gain heightened intelligence as well.
Though, for all the wonders this place may hold, it lacks one crucial detail. There isn’t any way of finding a specific book. Nothing here was labeled and there wasn’t any rhyme or reason to the layout as well. Just rows and rows of shelving and the books that lay inside them. Perhaps these isles were labeled long ago, but the paint has peeled away and the wood is now rotten.
I put the book back where I had found it, only to see that it disintegrated when I let it go. Oddly enough, I felt a tinge of sorrow when I saw the book crumble into dust. All that knowledge and innovation was gone, spread into the wind of these dilapidated halls. I would be the last person to ever see it.
I continued my trek through the dark dank hallways of the library for what seemed like hours. Tirelessly searching for the answer to the burning question that brought me here. The forbidden knowledge that once learned, could not be forgotten.
Although, with no way of navigating the unknown, these corridors quickly became a maze. Soon, I feared they would become my tomb. Here I was surrounded by all the knowledge lost to the world and beyond and had no way to get to exactly what I wanted. Perhaps that knowledge was lost as well. A thought accrued to me… If indeed the knowledge was lost then logically I would be able to find it here in the library.
I quickly began scanning the rows of books, looking for one that wasn’t as lost to time as the others. It didn’t take me long to find one. It was a book with a blue binding with a golden title in a language foreign to me. When I picked up the book I could feel a warmth emanating from it. It was subtle, but it was there. As I thumbed the cover I could feel a certain energy coming from the book. Like it was excited to finally be opened. Like it just couldn’t wait to be read.
I aimed to open it sure, but there was a hesitation within me. I remembered the first book I had opened here and how the rush of instant knowledge and understanding felt, it was intoxicating. In truth, I’m not sure how I was able to put it down.
Even now, as I caress the cover, I can almost hear the book calling to me in a silent whisper. The lettering on the title changed into English, just enough to entice me to read what I could make out. Curser’s Lament by- I could not yet read the author’s name.
Through with the anticipation, I threw the cover open and feasted my eyes on the very first page which again read the title. Although, this time I could see the author’s name clearly. Curser’s Lament by Cosmo Pyke. I wasted no time turning the page and starting the story, wondering what kind of hidden knowledge lay within. It reads as follows:
In the late dusk and just before dawn my thoughts sway to you. Like a wake in the ocean and the spots on the sun, I cannot be rid of my thoughts of you, because they come to me just as naturally. To be rid of the emotions I have for you would be to rid myself of the very air I breathe and the very water I drink.
I often remember that cold night at sea. The one where we first met. I was having a brandy portside, lamenting in my loneliness. The voyage was an arduous thing. Many were lost and that many more were dead. To my entire family of 8, I was the one god chose to live. He also chose David, family of 7. Almer, family of 4. Goren, Family of 3. Witner, family of 9. So on and so forth. There were 25 left. Only 25 were left out of the 350-person manifesto.
Of these 25 men were myself and the now Captain, Lemont. Lemont joined this voyage as a deckhand. I would often see him running around doing chores and such. However, once the bodies started to fall he quickly rose above his stated rank and was named Captian because of his experience at sea, or rather our lack thereof. Lemont was now the only man aboard that could get this vessel to any sort of land. A boy of only 16.
It was Lemont that I saw out on the far end of the deck opposite me. I could barely make him out in the dim moonlight, but he was there. Perhaps looking to the stars and plotting a course for our escape from this tomb of water. I approached him and asked his thoughts on the timeline of ending our voyage. Though, when I approached him he paid me no mind.
Again I tried gaining the young lad’s attention, but he was only fixated on the small waves out at sea. I got closer and looked the boy over and he was in bad shape. I could see that he was tense all over. His fingers were digging so deep into his palms that his fingernails pierced through his skin and blood pooled at his feet. He was biting into his lips also. So much so that he barely had any lips left at all. Just raw and managed flesh where they should have been.
I backed away slowly, making sure to avert my gaze to what he was staring at out there in the ocean. It was obvious that Lemont was now afflicted with the same madness that had affected the others before their demise. I knew it was coming. I could hear it, yet I didn’t dare look.
That familiar swirling just below the surface of the still water. The heavy taps on the side of the ship that reverberated through the hull and throughout my body. Then the silence. Deafening and absolute. I shut my eyes tight and crouched down. Once I opened my eyes again, Lament was gone.
As I read, images of the ship and the people flashed through my mind constantly. It was all happening too quickly to make out exactly what I was seeing. Men gathered on the deck discussing something. A scared-looking boy who wore a huge hat. The blood and guts that were swept overboard. The faces of the damned and deranged that tore at their flesh, and finally the beast.
The thing that creeps below the surface of the water. It hides in the reflection of the moon on still-waveless nights, but you can still make it out if you look hard enough. However, once you get a good look at it, it gets a good look at you.
It was through the eyes of these damned souls that I saw the beast that lurks under the waves. Through their eyes and past the pages of the book, the beast could see me too.
I dropped the book on the ground, but I had yet to notice. The eyes of the horror beneath the waves were seared into my skull and I could feel myself gnawing on my bottom lip. I knew that soon it would take me too. It seemed that the dangers of knowledge were far more potent than I could ever have hoped to realize.
So I write these words and place them on the infinite shelves that are the expanse of the Coroner’s Library. In the hopes that a traveler much like myself may stumble upon them and heed them. Not only can you gain knowledge in this place, but by doing so, you may have given something else knowledge of you.