Why do certain Classes or Skills function differently, despite their names being identical to each other? Largely, I attribute the nuance to be a consequence of the individual. We attain a Class that defines us, rarely does one ever deny one. Why should it not be possible that we define the Class? Or Skill?

- The Origin of Skills and Abilities, The Untethered Tomes

Class Obtained: [Learner] Level 1!

Skill Obtained: [Search: Library]

I awoke in a puddle of drool, a terribly accurate indicator of restful sleep. My mind barely registered the fact though, instead, it focused on my gains. Like all Skill and Class gains said advancements occur at the moment upon falling asleep or more accurately falling unconscious. While the topic is debated hotly a wide majority attribute the timing of these occurrences to coincide with rest and inactivity as the body adjusts. There have been enough testimonies of deep meditation, which was known to mimic the effects of sleep, reproducing the same effects that this particular theory was generally accepted.

I was a [Learner] apparently, deemed so. In fact, I couldn't argue with the designation. It's all I had been doing since I arrived. Ordinarily, two Skills and a Class in less than a week would be profound, and while I'm sure many researchers especially those who doubled as authors in the books I had been reading, would be very interested in my case. The fact of the matter was that I was in a stressful, challenging situation with nothing to do but learn. It was like putting a man in an arena with nothing but a sword and to task him with defending his only stockpile of supplies against hordes of monsters and not expecting him to attain the [Gladiator] or [Survivor] Class. Of course, I'd gain something related to my situation, it was foolish to think otherwise.

Perhaps my one recent bottleneck would be obsolete given my new Skill.

[Search: Library]. Books on golems, constructs, enchantment were on my mind as I invoked it. What burst forth from me was akin to a gentle shockwave, emanating from my center and expanding outward to encompass the entirety of the library. Of greater note, was when the shockwave impacted what I assumed was my target, in which case it was as if it hit something solid and hollow. The feedback was both auditory and visual but more, it tapped into my spatial awareness.

In short, it was a ringing glow that I simply felt, just five minutes walk from where I was. And, judging from the section I found myself moving towards. the object of interest was somewhat hidden. There were other, less vibrant pings, but something in me knew they weren't as focused, as niche, as what I sought. The brightest ones in my mind stole my attention away.

After all, no books I've so far come across have been misplaced, so why was I heading towards a section of the library dedicated to history?

The history section was largely destroyed, which might've also hinted as to why I had such a small selection of books related to culture and civilization, though they were implied heavily enough throughout my readings for me to have a general grasp. I shoveled through broken wooden bits, moving large chunks of wood that could've conceivably been part of a shelf, to get to the glow. Unfortunately, two parallel shelves had fallen neatly on each other, collapsed again, and now whatever I was getting at was barred by splintery wood crossed over each other as if to purposefully deter me.

I frowned, recognizing the problem and turning away, understanding my own two hands would be useless here less I wanted to collapse either shelf on me in the process of removing the other. Fire was an immediate thought, and likewise immediately thrown away. While the golems might've been able to be directed I didn't have the knowledge to instruct them. I examined the wreck as if it were a puzzle, piecing the parts in my mind and finding what affected what. Testing the pieces was easy enough if I recognized I was in a safe area where nothing could collapse one me, harder when I recognized I wasn't in which I case I needed to prod the wood from a distance with a metal rod from the combat hall.

Eventually, I had the wreck down to the pieces that were actually stuck. All else was thrown to the side and I had a much more manageable puzzle to ponder. The shelves leaned on each other heavily, somewhat still laden with books that seemed half-destroyed or ruined. If I had the strength to move them I still wouldn't have since doing so to either would trigger the collapse of its opposite. But perhaps I didn't need to.

My Skill [Search: Library] had since worn off and another attempt at invoking it failed, though somehow I knew it would, yet I memorized the location it had shone from. It was between the shelves, therein lied the problem, but more, it was surrounded by splintered wood. That kind of damage was common through the library, but this time it seemed as every piece was pointed outward aggressively. More, each piece of wood looked less and less natural upon closer inspection, the pointed spikes had thorns.

I returned with gauntlets, as the combat hall did indeed stock full sets of armor. But pulling on the wood netted no results, they were firmly set, and for the first time, I pondered what else might be hidden in this cache. By now, it was obvious to me this was some sort of psuedo-safe, a last-ditch effort to hide things from what ruined the library. It would be ironic if indeed what I suspected was true; that I had caused all this as my previous self, and that now I was prying this knowledge open as a new man.

I sighed, sitting. I had not the means. My back tingled as it did every time I remembered how far removed I was from anything. My eyes drifted to where I knew the opening into the library resided and I shivered as if a real chill had assaulted me. Was I truly so hopeless? So lost that a few errant spikes of wood would stop me? How could I expect myself to rise to the surface and see the sun, if even this stalled me?

I did not think myself a man to mope. As it turned out, I was not.

I began the tedious process of lightening the shelves whilst preserving their balance against each other. In short, removing a single book from either one painfully slow book at a time. The process was exactly as I had thought it was, terribly boring, so much so that I opted to read every short walk to and fro. The Art of Trapping led me to some brilliant insights regarding the delicate nature of balance and potential energy. Perhaps not so brilliant, admittedly, but certainly applicable. I'd first reduce the mass of each, thereby reducing the weight, and thus the potential energy. I stopped once one of the shelves was void of books even though the other still had some, right now they were in equilibrium and that was all that I required. I was able to find high tables and chairs and propped them up against the less tangled shelf. In this, I'd distribute the weight between these supports once I shift the opposite shelf.

Now all that was left was doing just that.

Fortunately, the high tables were up to my shoulder so I could duck down if need me and hope they caught the weight of the shelf. Positioning myself near the center of balance of the opposite shelf, I pushed hard. There was a concerning creak and a powerful thump, and then a crash. The bookshelf toppled over loudly and I cringed if for nothing than the sound being one that was loud in the immutable quiet of a library. I turned around and the other shelf had fallen against the tables. I managed to topple that one over as well, once I moved a few pieces of now-free wood that had kept it from budging backward.

And then I was staring at a ball of wooden spikes. Quite literally, a spikey ball of thorny wooden spikes. I frowned, then indeed this was someone's work to hide valuable knowledge. At the least, I knew inside contained books on constructs and golems as well as enchanting, all went in hand in hand, but I wondered what else.

I thought magic at first created the safe, but more and more I knew it was a Skill. The compendium of Skills I had browsed through was a valuable boon but the preface of the book was that it was simply impossible to catalog every type. And so, instead of listing everything it could, though the author did try, it listed every known occurrence and testimony toward a particular utilization a Skill could function for. For example, [Slash] was one that might take on a variety of effects such as [Quick Slash], or [Greater Slash]. While I didn't recall any Skill that might function as a vault there were some that served to protect certain things. Like a [Treasure Hunter's] famous [Secret Stash]. This one might indeed be something of that vein.

It was enough that I revealed it. I may find a way to pry it open later, but truth be told, it was unlikely. The fact that this was born from a Skill meant I had little hope to open it. A Skilless Level 1 [Learner] was ill-prepared to go about breaking open vaults.

That didn't stop me from approaching the problem from every conceivable angle over the coming week.