K.T. Hanna (Arithion)
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LSRO: Chapter 353 - Conscious Choice
🕑 Added 2025-12-08 03:26:45 +0000 UTCTold you so! Two chapters today!
I've been really trying to tidy them up and tighten the prose a bit... (I'm on a pretty strict deadline to get this done - stupid damn pneumonia)
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Chapter 16
Conscious Choice
Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose, counted to ten, and let out a sigh. At that moment, the room was so silent, they could have heard grass grow. “Explain that to me like I’m five.” She seemed to ask that of people a lot lately.
Malakai glanced up at Drevicia, who shrugged and looked away. Lynx let out what sounded like a growl under his breath and then spoke.
“Since apparently no one else wants to go over this, I will.” He let out a long-suffering breath. “The splinter, as I’ll now call it, put several paths into play. While I can’t completely figure out what it intended, I know the underlying gist came from a desire to relinquish control. Not,” Lynx held up a hand to forestall anyone interrupting, “to let chaos roam free. The Library, thank everything, has never been about that. Instead, the confused part of the psyche didn’t want complete control. Not even with a balance like the Librarian or me. It wanted to spread the responsibility, to wash its hands of having so much riding on its shoulders. It sought to redistribute the power of filtration and spread it out. A wider net, in a way.”
“Oddly, that sort of makes sense,” Hal muttered. “But also not. A wider net, with less of a stranglehold on the filtration system, would eventually create holes. Ones that might go unchecked for too long and cause more harm than good.”
“Precisely,” Drevicia spoke up. “My concern, back when I initially had it, centered on too much power in my own hands. I also feared that I would become corrupted, potentially turning on the entire universe. And apparently my brother initially sought to make that a reality.” Her words held so much bitterness and disappointment, Quinn could taste them.
“So the splinter contacted others under the guise of being you?” Quinn asked, trying to wrap her brain around that concept.
“Precisely.” The Library wouldn’t make eye-contact with anyone, its own dejectedness palpable. “I reached out to the darigháhnish. Knowing they’d fought off chaos for so long, knowing they kept their own region of space clean and tidy, despite being on the outskirts, despite often being left to fend for themselves...”
“Wait,” Quinn interrupted. “What do you mean by that?”
“The outskirts,” Milaro said, surprise tinging his voice. “The filtration is weakest out there. Some rogue chaos energy still roams, still bombards areas. But it’s not a concentrated amount, even if it’s still dangerous.”
“So your conspiring involved asking these people for help?” Quinn turned to Drevicia expectantly.
“Nothing so noble. It involved my wanting them to help form a council that would take over the responsibility of filtering chaos.”
“Then... they weren’t trying to overthrow you, they weren’t trying to release chaos, they were attempting to do as you’d asked them as your splintered psyche and help take on the burden of filtering chaos. Do I have that right?” Quinn asked incredulously.
Lynx blinked and opened his mouth, but shut it again. Malakai did the same, and Milaro just gaped at her. Drevicia said nothing, her eyes swirling with whatever type of communication she was currently undertaking.
Hal laughed. It was a loud sound, joyous in its own way, terrifying in its intensity. “All this time, that’s what they were doing?”
At least his laughter broke some of the tension.
“Basically...“ Drevicia spoke the words reluctantly. “All this time, a part of me had been instructing them, leading them to believe they were working with us, not against us. Even Ardenil worked toward cooperation. To a certain extent, I think even Kajaro had spoken with her. Any control over the Library and the filtration of chaotic energy would have been a boon for him. If they could avoid self-destruction while getting their hands on some chaos energy... then wouldn’t that work for all of them and the universe? At least Kajaro and Ardenil were practical.”
“Arnekai,” Lynx leveled a sorrowful look at Malakai, who still hadn’t recovered from the revelation. “At least she appeared to want to continue her vigilance and help contain the chaos. Just like she has in her region for so long.” The underlying sentiment spoke louder than the words. That they should be proud of the role the darigháhnish played regardless of who realized it.
Malakai scowled, however. “All these years, and I’ve misjudged her. All these years, and she was fighting for us and not against us...in a way."
Quinn cringed inwardly, not wanting to remind him how she had treated him. It didn’t matter what grand plan she worked toward if she neglected and treated her son like crap. But maybe it wasn’t the time to mention that right now, however gently. So, she tried to veer the topic off onto another tangent. “Okay, so while your splinter managed to somewhat sabotage the singular focus of the Library, it doesn’t seem to have conspired with ... him.”
“True...” Drevicia seemed thoughtful.
“In fact, in a way, it was trying to spread the responsibility and help ease some of the strain placed solely on your shoulders, correct?” Quinn was warming up now.
“Yes.” Lynx’s gaze narrowed, and it was obvious he’d picked up on Quinn’s train of thought.
“So, essentially, the splinter didn’t actually do anything to sabotage the Library, it just wanted to delegate some responsibilities because of the overall fear of it not being safe for just one being to be responsible for such a huge undertaking, for the lives of bajillions of people. Right?”
Drevicia smiled sadly. “Sounds about right. I just didn’t think of it quite in those terms.”
“It’s not really self-sabotage when you’re trying to make things better, stronger, or run smoother.” Milaro chuckled humorlessly.
“Some might say ducking responsibility when I volunteered to take it on in the first place is cowardice,” the Library still sounded dejected.
Quinn smiled. “If some say is you saying it, then okay. Otherwise, delegating isn’t a bad idea. Heck, you do it to me, and to Lynx. To all of us here. We have assistants and allies. You’ve never really been alone. Maybe all this stemmed from you thinking you were alone from the very beginning.”
The library nodded slowly, as if truly contemplating the truth of those words for the first time. “You’re making sense that I see now. I’m not sure why I didn’t see it then. So all of them... Sarila, Ardenil, Arnekai... all of those people were trying to help me?”
Milaro cringed, his face pale. “I should have tried harder to understand her,” it seemed he couldn’t even say Sarila’s name.
“To be fair,” Quinn offered, “you were being attacked and one of your best friends was bleeding out in your arms. So like... Sarila wasn’t really listening to reason.”
“She was trying to stop anyone coming between the cause and progress.” Lynx muttered, his runed rings circling his body. “But that doesn’t explain everything. Sure, it tells us just what the splinter of your psyche orchestrated, but it doesn’t explain the other connections. We know Sarila was connected to the Balisor forest incident - to the rot and the parasite. I’m not understanding why.”
“Crossed purposes. Confusion as to my actual intention. I never spoke personally to Sarila in any of my forms about this. Perhaps my brother saw something there, an avenue to exploit; I’m not sure.” The Library sounded sad. Quinn knew instinctively that it felt sad for having, even inadvertently, caused at least one death if not more.
“Still, this was none of your fault. You didn’t splinter yourself; you didn’t consciously act against your best interests or what was best for the universe. We can work with that. Actually, it’s solid - it means we don’t have to split our focus as much.” Quinn pondered for a second and brightened up. “Actually, it really frees up some time and resources. We still need to follow the Balisor avenue because now the sludge appears inside the Library. We’ve only had three instances, and luckily none of them have infected a wider range of books. But I’d rather not have to immolate more books. It’s such a waste.”
“Immolate more books?” Milaro looked up in alarm. “What do you mean?”
“Books that have the potential of infecting others, in this case so much that they disintegrate into pulp and goo. Those are the ones I have to destroy beyond repair. Best way to do that is with Immolation. Don’t like doing it. Even with my new power levels, it leaves me slightly nauseous.” Quinn paused and looked around the room. “At least this way, short of asking your family if anyone else has contacted them, Malakai, I think we can safely rule out the darigháhnish as an imminent threat. Perhaps an eventual pain in the butt about logistics and delegation, but that’s a better conversation than if they’d betrayed you.”
Malakai finally eked out a small smile. “Thanks. I think, though, that it’s a conversation best had in person with them. If I might just take my leave?”
A part of Quinn wanted to go with him, to lend him support the way he always gave it to her. But she knows she has far too much to do right now to leave for any reason other than something dire. And this has now moved off that list. Just as she was about to speak, Milaro stood and wiped his hands on his thighs.
“I will take my grandson to see his darigháhnish family. It’s the least I can do.” He inclined his head to each of them ever so slightly. “If there’s anything of use that we learn, we’ll return immediately. I’m sure they’ve garnered something in the last few hundred years.” His smile was self-deprecating, and he made to leave, but Hal stopped him.
The King of Halschius had a determined smile on his face, a melancholy tone present under it. “Ardenil is being held in our cells. I will have her moved to something more comfortable. Something more attuned to a patient than a prisoner.”
Malakai nodded, but Milaro smiled. “That’s much appreciated.”
“You should come and see her once you’ve spoken with your daughter-in-law.” Hal’s tone was low, filled with understanding.
“We will.” Milaro went to leave, but Malakai lingered, and moved toward Quinn. His grandfather waited.
For several seconds Malakai stood there, fidgeting with the pockets in his tunic. “I’ll be back soon.”
Those four words were full of promise and determination. Quinn nodded. They didn’t need to speak about it right then, because they’d come to an understanding. Malakai wasn’t a fool. He was fully aware of the relationship he had with his mother. It didn’t matter what he thought of her or what she’d done. She’d made a conscious choice to treat him like crap consistently. That wasn’t anything he had to forgive her for or talk to her about. That ball was in her court. No, this was all about having misjudged her for something she didn’t actually do.
Quinn could appreciate that. Before she could stop herself, she reached forward and pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t something they did often; hell; it wasn’t something she did often at all. But she knew also that hugs could be therapeutic, and Malakai had just learned some pretty hard truths about his mother and his life. About his upbringing. Considering she’d only recently found out about her parents’ deaths, she could imagine the sort of upheaval he was going through.
He clung to her for a few seconds, as if he didn’t want to let go. The height disparity was almost comical, though slightly less since she’d grown. But it was also comforting.
He pulled back and gave her a weak smile. “Thanks.” And then he followed his grandfather out of the room.
She watched him go and took a deep breath before turning back to the room. “Well... what’s our next step then?”
Hal laughed, the sound brightening up the room. “I have to get back home. After this minor revelation, not only do I need to make Ardenil more comfortable, I also need to talk to her. There are obviously things we’re missing. A lot of things. Not to mention Adrito.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”
“Just that I might be able to talk to him now. Or at least get him prepped so we can interrogate him through mind communication. Like you did with Kajaro. Pretty sure we’ve figured out how to extract him from that cube of doom he’s in without killing him. Can’t say much for what his quality of life will be like, but I think I can prevent his being impaled.”
Quinn cringed, knowing she was partially responsible for that. Or, to be more exact, it was her doing that he was still alive, frozen in stasis with an arrow gunning for his heart.
Eric was already out gathering allies and books and whatnot. Quinn turned to the Library. “And you’re going to?”
Drevicia smiled. “Keep digging into my alter ego and hope we don’t uncover more nefarious plots.”
Lynx laughed. “Pretty sure you only had one in you.” His smile held no bite as he spoke.
“What about you, Quinn?” Hal asked, surprisingly gentle.
She blinked at him, not exactly sure how to answer that. Aradie pecked at her hair and hooted, almost like she was laughing. “Oh... yeah. I’m going to see if I can figure out just what the link is between the Balisor parasite and our recent outbreak of disintegrating contagious books. I’ll be in the restricted vault. Fewer people find me there.”
At least they all had something to do.
~~
I mean it all makes sense in my head... which is good because I'm writing it, but doesn't always mean something.
Much love
KT
Comments
Rando Calrissian
Least it wasn't some hackneyed super sabatoge, just some misguided buck passing
