I quickly glanced at the mirror besides, and I could not recognize myself. It felt like I was dreaming, yet I knew this scenario well.
"Who knocks at this hour?"
I could hear a silent gasp coming from behind the door, along with a thumping of horse feet. I did not spare an instant to light the lamp, and carry a sword in my spare. I knew this was not going to be some favorable news.
"Please, hurry." He was short, was my first impression of him. Shorter than where the doorknob was attached. I could not see much with my waking eyes, but he seemed to have not much with him except a dagger and a drinking pouch. Unusual for someone coming this far into the woods.
"We must hurry. The town is in great peril. Attend to your horse quickly, and follow me." He did not spare me any details. It felt strange to me that I had grabbed my sword beforehand, as if I knew exactly of this situation. Anyone could've been at the door, and for me to pick the right tool for the job felt quite peculiar to me. The horse, I remembered, I had parked beside the house and not inside the stable coincidentally out of the great hassle that it is. Everything just seemed too perfect.
The road was clear of any cattle. In no time, I could see the town. And it was not in great shape. Fire was everywhere, and it had spread to the gate. There were orcs everywhere, swarming around houses. The magic from the library did not seem to be doing much against them.
"How long has it been since the orcs arrived?"
"Half a day, sir."
"Is there any hope?"
I could feel it. The screams of hundreds of innocents moaning in despair, and the fires consuming their dead bodies. The ash evolved into the air, and I could hear the air scream. I could feel the mud soak the blood, and hear it laughing at this tragedy. At us. At me. At you. It was only for an instant, but I could feel it all.
I did not stop, and rushed towards the library. I wasn't much of a good fighter. The only way I could help was to go to the library, and find out what was wrong.
"Try to take as many as you can, and return to the woods."
The forest was protected by a spell. It should work until I stay alive.
I took the right from the town gate front. The people and houses were all ruined with the orc's footsteps following. The trees were all leaning towards the road, and their leaves shed as if they were lamenting. The grass did not give enough foot to travel quickly, especially with a horse. The air started to thicken, and I could only see white clouds of fog. I became preoccupied with fear and dread again. What if I was there half a day ago? What if I had been killed today? Was it by pure chance that I was alive? Yet, I knew that if today the townsfolk had not been killed, the orcs would have gone to the forest following the trace of mana. And, then I felt terror.
I could see the entrance now. It felt like I had completed a long journey, even though it must have been only a few minutes.
The library gates seemed quite old. The pillars were rusted, leaving the doors with that same silver color. The embroidery still remained intact as well, despite there being scratches all over it. It did not seem like the orcs were able to enter the place though, since there were no foot marks near it.
I lit the torches lying at the bottom of the pillars, and cut open a wound to let my blood drop onto the forest floor. Now, the night had come, and I knew that the town could not be saved. The smell of wood ash traveled till here, along with mana of the corpse. Soon, I will be able to feel their pains, and their lives that they had led. The wind will carry it all, right where I am standing. The library is said to open only after the miasma from death cleanses the soul, after all. Sooner or later, I thought, I too will mix with the air, and become dust, and become nothing. I would become one with all, notwithstanding who I was before. And to experience all this, and be able to think only about myself, is truly sickening.
The library opened with a grand thumping noise, and a wind estranged from within. From just a peek, I could tell this was not just a library made for town protection. The grand sight felt haunting, accompanying a nostalgic feeling. From the touch of the books near the porch, I was able to recall each and every word as if it was written by me. But these thoughts felt fragmented, missing character and place names.
The library seemed to extend to many floors, and many chambers. At the entrance, there were two chambers facing opposite to each other, and from just a glimpse, I could see they seemed to extend infinitely in one direction. I felt that it was futile to choose one over the other.
I stood in the midst of both chambers and looked at their fronts. There seemed to be bronze-plated signs attached above the doorways, on which it was written in stylized scripture. I looked at the two plates twice trying to make a choice from them. But they were both the exact same letters. The exact same word.
'Ego'
Then, I knew. I entered the large chamber which led to multiple chambers. Each and every sign: 'Ego.' I felt futileness at choosing one over the other. But I could tell from afar that each chamber had different books; the book designs looked different. I sat on the floor, confused, and I closed my eyes. I felt nothing. I opened my eyes, scared, and I could feel 'myself' again. Even though I am here, and I am….. me. I closed my eyes once more, and suddenly, I was in the woods again. And I opened it, to find myself in the library. This time, however, I noticed a painting hanging from the walls of the first floor, and my eyes landed at it directly. It was a painting of me amongst myselves. Each figure had a mirror, and they looked at it firmly with determination that they were looking at themselves. Besides the painting were names: 'Skold,' 'Stephen,' and so on, with the last name being 'Immanuel.' Except the last, I knew each and every of these names. After all, they were the people from the town. And then I realized why all this felt too coincidental and perfect. From me being in the woods, to being called to save the town. All were futile. I could have done nothing from the start. "If I came earlier perhaps" was the first thought that came to my mind. Yet I knew that could not have happened. Even if I knew all about this library, all I could do was gaze at it. Everything else is a futile game. A gamble. And when all becomes nothing, I will continue to look at the mirror, with determination that I am looking at 'myself.' Then, I looked and searched for a book near my hands which I knew was here.
'I am.'