Colm waved goodbye to Luke and Tessa as they exited the guild, their figures shrinking in the distance as the heavy doors swung shut behind them. A small smile lingered on his face—there was a sense of movement now, a direction forming amid the chaos.

Echoes. Making everyone stronger. Learning more… he muttered, letting the words hang as if saying them aloud would make them real. I'm starting to piece this puzzle together.

But the smile faded as he exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly. Luke's right. I'm missing too much… there are still so many damn gaps. A pang of disappointment stabbed at him. I really have just been jumping around, haven't I? He gave a short laugh. Back home, I'd be neck-deep in books, online videos, guides—hell, even forums—before I tried anything new. And here? I've been diving in headfirst without even checking the water.

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. I need to get a grip. This lack of preparation is going to bite me sooner or later.

With a deep breath, he rose and started walking toward the familiar hallway—the same path he'd taken when he first arrived at the guild. This place is overflowing with knowledge. I need to start taking it seriously. I need to understand more. If I want to survive… if I want to thrive… I can't afford to stay ignorant.

As Colm approached the library door, he felt a ripple of anticipation. The moment he stepped through, it hit him—the towering shelves, the aged scent of parchment, the golden light filtering through stained-glass windows. It was vast, quiet, and sacred. He couldn't help but breathe out in awe.

It really is impressive, he muttered, eyes wide as they scanned the endless rows of books. Where the hell do I even begin? he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

A voice to his right cut through his thoughts, causing him to flinch.

"I can help you with that."

He turned quickly, slightly startled, and found himself staring at a smaller, thinner figure. His gaze traced upward—delicate frame, silver-streaked hair, and pointed ears. With a jolt of realization, he instinctively activated Analyze.

Emma (Level ???) - Elf

He blinked. She's strong. The silence stretched, and he realized with horror that he'd been staring.

She cleared her throat softly.

"Ah—sorry," Colm muttered, cheeks warming as he scratched the back of his neck. "I'd really appreciate the help."

Emma gave a warm nod. "Of course. I'd be more than happy to. I'm here pretty often and know where most things are. I was actually just about to head out, but I couldn't ignore the sight of you muttering to yourself and looking completely lost. Honestly, it was kind of funny."

She stepped forward, offering her hand with a smile. "Emma."

How much do I really talk to myself these days? he wondered as his face flushed deeper.

"Colm," he said, taking her hand and giving it a quick shake.

"Nice to meet you," Emma said with a smile. "So, what are you looking for?"

Colm exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly? Anything. I'm still new here, so even the basics would be a huge help. Stuff you might think is redundant—I probably need it. I've come to realize just how lacking I've been lately. If you could point me to anything on the system, classes, Echoes or anything really, I'd really appreciate it."

Emma gave a thoughtful nod, eyes narrowing as she processed the request. "Interesting, interesting…" she murmured, half to herself. "I think I know just the books."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and started walking deeper into the library. Colm had to hustle to keep up, falling into stride beside her just in time to catch the tail end of her musing.

"…quite a selection here," she was saying. "I think I've got a few solid picks for what you're looking for."

She stopped suddenly, turning sharply to face a tall shelf. Her eyes scanned the spines before she reached up and pulled a dusty tome free. "This one might be good," she said, blowing off a puff of dust. "Bit of a diary from someone who lived through the Shift—lots of personal anecdotes, but buried in there is some solid info."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Before Colm could respond, she lightly tossed the book toward him. He fumbled to catch it but managed to hold on as she was already moving toward another section.

She stopped at another shelf, pulling down one book, inspecting it, then shaking her head and replacing it. After a moment, she grabbed a second. "Ah, here we go," she said, holding it up. "This one has a lot of info about the isles. Geography's underrated, in my opinion. Knowing where you are—and where you can escape to—is always useful."

Colm grinned as she tossed the second book. He stumbled slightly but managed to catch it again, earning a chuckle from Emma.

"Nice catch," she laughed. "Those two should give you a good start. The sections I pulled them from have plenty more, so if you finish these and want more, definitely dig in."

Colm nodded, cradling the books to his chest. "Thank you, Emma. I really appreciate it."

Emma waved, already turning to go. "Happy to help. Best of luck, Colm."

* * *

Emma walked away, the soft creak of the library's floorboards beneath her feet, a smile tugging at her lips. Helping that strange man—Colm—had been an unexpected detour in her day. Gods, she thought, who would've guessed I'd meet a Morvyn in real life?

A small shiver of excitement rippled through her. They're so rare. Incredibly rare. She bit her lip, the scholar in her practically vibrating. Considering the infection's survival rate… he must've been absurdly lucky—or stubborn. Maybe both.

She stifled a chuckle. I mean, I heard him muttering. I had to help him after that, right? It's not like I just wanted an excuse to talk to a Morvyn. No hidden agenda at all, she told herself, trying to sound convincing—even to herself. None at all.

But then there was the class—Spirit Warden.

She frowned slightly, curiosity overtaking her amusement. I've never read anything about that. Not even a passing mention. What tier is it? What does it do? Her mind raced with questions.

This is exactly what I needed, she realized. Something different. Something unexpected.

Her life in the guild had settled into a predictable rhythm—quiet days among the shelves, organizing texts, helping adventurers who barely glanced at her twice. But Colm? He was an anomaly. A walking question mark with a rare race and an unheard-of class.

Hopefully, she thought with a grin, he visits the library more often. I'd be dying to learn more about the Morvyn race… and maybe snag a few tidbits about that Spirit Warden class too.

* * *

Colm watched as Emma exited the library, her figure slipping between the shelves before vanishing from view. A small smile lingered on his face. That was surprisingly helpful. He turned back to the books in his arms, contemplating where to begin. With a quiet grunt, he carried them to a nearby table and laid them out side by side.

Alright… the diary and the geography text. He tapped a finger against the worn cover of the latter. Better to start with the now. Understand where I am, the layout of the land… then dive into how it all changed.

With a decisive nod, Colm pulled the geography book toward him, cracked open the spine, and began to read.

The hours blurred as page after page turned, Colm skimming through the book's neatly inked lines and detailed maps, absorbing what current knowledge remained of the world. Time slipped by unnoticed until he leaned back in his chair, letting the weight of it all settle.

So it's basically what Jerry mentioned…

He flipped back a few pages, eyes landing on a map, and traced his finger across the parchment. I'm on an isle, he muttered. Brimhope Isle. Southwest corner of the known world.

Dozens of other islands dotted the surrounding waters, but according to the text, not all were documented. Even now, over two hundred years later, we're still figuring out how the world changed… He shook his head. That's insane. With all the magic floating around, you'd think someone would've mapped it out by now.

But it wasn't that simple.

Each isle had its own distinct threats. The one unifying element? The undead. Every territory seemed cursed by their presence, though some had additional horrors. His eyes lingered on a particularly ominous island to the east of Brimhope, marked by an etched skull. Apparently that one's home to monsters so extreme they destroy everything—except the undead.

How the hell do the undead survive that? he wondered.

His gaze drifted toward the center of the map, to an isle that dwarfed the others in size—at least three times the mass of Brimhope. He squinted, reading the name etched in swirling ink.

"Starfell."

He whispered it aloud. Sounds eerily beautiful.

The description chilled him: a place of eternal night, the skies aglow with thousands of stars, as though the heavens themselves had descended. The book claimed that was the origin—the epicenter of it all. Where everything began.

If I really want to help… to make a difference… I might end up there.

He sighed, a mix of awe and dread in his breath. But that's a long way off. If I ever learn to fly, or teleport maybe I'll find my way there someday.

Raking a hand through his hair, he exhaled. Well, that's enough geography. Can't believe I stayed focused this long, He chuckled, reaching for the next book: a thinner, more worn volume titled Dorian Varn: The Shift I.

Wonder who Dorian is, he thought, closing the geography book and sliding it aside. He opened the journal with quiet curiosity, the scent of old ink and parchment rising up to greet him.

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