《A Guide to Becoming a Pirate Queen》Operative - 34 - Post Mortem Clarity

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Bryce

I don’t know how long I sat there. It could have been hours, days, months, or even years. The entire time, the stars stayed stationary above me, an unchanging constant that brought me a sort of hypnotic comfort. The more that I thought about it, the more I came to realize that the effect must be intentional. Some sort of charm spell to help souls settle into their new routine after traumatic deaths.

I used that thought to pull myself out of the daze. Leaving Thea the way I did was by far the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. It felt like a part of my soul was left behind in her arms, and every time I thought of her, or how much I had no doubt hurt her, I felt myself being dragged back to the stars above me.

I forced myself to look away again. This was my afterlife, and as much as I wanted to spend it wallowing away in self-pity, I knew there were more productive things I should be doing. At least, I hoped that was the case. I couldn’t imagine spending the next eight-hundred years lying around doing nothing. Which was no doubt why Reiki had been so adamant about me not choosing Chorus’s afterlife. I was endlessly thankful to her for what she had done for me. Even if the end result was heartbreaking.

I shook my head to pull myself out of the depression spiral. I was in the domain of Tess, the goddess of magic. This was the time for me to explore, and learn, and master everything I hadn’t been able to in life.

Or I hoped that’s what it would be like, but when I looked around, all I saw was an endlessly empty parking lot that stretched into the distant void with a single four story tall concrete building in the center of it. It looked more like a prison more than anything, with metal bars over the windows and no decorative features across the rectangular shape. It was an aggressively utilitarian design.

The only exception to the lack of decor was a single long word above the reinforced entrance. I couldn’t read it, which served to remind me that I no longer had my implants to translate for me, because I was dead.

I pushed back that particular wave of existential dread before slogging across the parking lot to approach the heavy metal door. Being close to it didn’t reveal any more detail than what I had already seen from a dozen meters away, so I decided to just knock.

A few seconds later and the door opened to reveal a pale-skinned, blonde human woman wearing some sort of military uniform. I didn’t recognize the design or insignias, but it reminded me of how a low-ranking officer might dress.

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“Bryce, right?” She asked with a sad smile before stepping aside to let me pass. “Please, come in.”

I stepped inside and my heart skipped a beat as I took in the area around me. The building was much larger on the inside. We were standing on an elevated walkway, which allowed us to overlook a room with countless rows of shelves all lined with books as far as the eye could see.

“This is the library,” the blonde woman explained. “The sum total of all recorded knowledge can be found here, both fiction and non. My mistress is something of a hoarder.” She chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile at the joke.

“You’re a celestial, then?”

“Not quite. I’m actually a virtual assistant, although I fulfill many of the standard functions normally attributed to a celestial.” Her explanation pulled my attention from the scene of the library, causing me to appreciate her in a new light. “Most people call me Libby, but if that’s too informal for you, then just call me Librarian.”

“You seem incredibly lifelike for a virtual assistant.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.” She beamed with what seemed like pride, which only served to make her seem even more alive. “My mistress created me as an alternative to celestials and offered similar programs to the other gods. Most declined it though. Many view the creation of celestials as something of a badge of honor, I think. There are a number of papers on the topic. I can take you to them if you’re interested.”

“That does sound interesting, but Reiki mentioned there were caveats to choosing this afterlife that even she didn’t know. I was hoping we could go over those first.”

Libby’s eyes went wide, and she nodded. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. There aren’t many rules, but the few that do exist are very important. First, some of the information here can be quite dangerous, so to prevent its spread, you won’t be allowed to contact anybody outside these walls. That means no seances, resurrections, planar shifts, or summonings of any kind.”

I nodded at the explanations, but then realized the implication of what she had just said. “No summonings or planar shifts? Does that mean that I can use my other magic here?”

I hadn’t realized it before, but I still had full access to my mana. Which made a certain degree of sense, when you considered how closely tied the core and soul were, but still it wasn’t something I was expecting.

“That’s actually rule number two. Unlike other afterlives, you can cast magic here, but we ask that you keep anything destructive or experimental to the basement arenas,” she explained before turning deathly serious. “And absolutely no soul magic. There are books and grimoires on the topic available, and you’re more than welcome to study them, but no casting anything related to mana or the soul. If you even try it, then you’ll be forced to pass on without a chance to appeal.”

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“I understand. Was there anything else?”

“One more thing. In order to prevent a stirring event, souls are limited to eight-hundred years here. After that, you’ll need to pass on.”

I frowned at the ominous warning. “What’s a stirring event?”

“Trust me, it’s not good. If you want to know all the details about the last one, then I’d suggest reading volume nine of the Nemesis crisis. Particularly the last eight chapters or so, but starting from the beginning would give you more context.”

“I’ll definitely add that to the list. This is all a bit overwhelming to be honest.”

Libby laughed. “Yeah, it is for most people. If you think it would help, a number of denizens have documented recommended research tracts. The shortest you could probably get through in an afternoon, and the longest, is about five hundred years of material, assuming, of course, you don’t get too distracted along the way. There are also lecture halls on the second floor if you’re looking for inspiration, or debates on the third if you’re motivated by competition. Please, just try to keep the discourse civil. I don’t want to have to break up another fistfight.”

“Now that you mention it, I thought I saw four floors from the outside,” I pointed out before laughing at the absurdity of it. “Although it’s definitely a lot larger on the inside, so that probably doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, no, you’re absolutely right. There are four floors, well, and a basement, but the fourth is actually a cafe. Nobody here needs to eat or drink, but my mistress is obsessed with coffee, and plenty of people like to read with a glass of wine or a cup of tea. It’s common enough that there’s a whole floor dedicated to it. Personally, I recommend the chocolate brownie cookies. They are to die for.” She cringed at her own joke. “Sorry, too soon?”

I chuckled. “No, that’s alright. I’ll have to try them later.” Honestly, the idea of curling up with a novel and a glass of wine sounded heavenly, but there was one thing I wanted to do first. “If there's nothing else, then could you show me any books you have on the meta-physical anatomy of a djinn progenitor?”

“Now, that’s an interesting topic.” She smiled up at me before turning on her heels and walking towards the library floor. “Please, follow me. I’ll take you to that section.”

~~~~~

My spell worked. Or rather, it could have worked. Mother’s anatomy was different from what I observed in Ithnaa, but not by much. When I factored in my firsthand experience of her magic resistance, it felt reasonable to assume that the spell took hold, but that didn’t necessarily mean that it was going to do what I expected. I was going to need to do more research.

“Libby,” I called out, and the virtual assistant appeared near the table I was studying at.

“Hello, Bryce. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did, or most of it at least.” My wrist was starting to ache after reading through paper books for hours on end, so I massaged it as I explained. “I need information on meridian systems. Ideally, focusing on blocks or flow interruptions stemming from the core and known adaptations to overcome them.”

“Absolutely, however I am obligated to remind you that experimenting with spells that affect the flow of mana isn’t allowed.”

“Thanks for the warning, but I’m not actually planning on casting anything. The research is just something of a retrospective at this point.” I stood up from the table and a chill ran down my spine, which served as a reminder of how cold it was in the library. “Would it be possible for me to get a sweater or a blanket?”

“Um, yes? Are you feeling uncomfortable?” Libby sounded concerned, but I just waved her off.

“It’s nothing, really. I just run a little cold.”

“Okay, I’ll look into it. In the meantime, you can borrow this.” She produced the ugliest sweater I had ever seen. It had alternating red and green stripes with little books patterned across it. I couldn’t help but laugh as I saw it.

“Thank you. I love it.” I took the sweater and pulled it over my head. It didn’t help much with the cold, but it was amazingly comfortable.

“No problem! Just don’t spill anything on it, please. Otherwise, we’ll both be in for it.”

I froze at that. “Wait, whose sweater is this?”

“I borrowed it from my mistress’s closet.” She tilted her head as she answered, and I pushed back a wave of panic that was threatening to take over me.

“Is Tess going to be okay with that?”

“No. She’s not.” The annoyed voice of a woman came from behind me, and I slowly turned to see an angry goddess glaring at the two of us.

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