Another coin gave a soft clack on the table beside the empty glass. A lone ruddy-colored fish focused on the motion with bright blue eyes from his large bowl at the table’s center. Wish slowly withdrew her hand back in time to gently turn the page as she read on with unbothered attention. Having read down a few lines on a fresh page she reached out, no longer surprised that the glass had once again filled with the wonderfully smooth raspberry juice she had been drinking. It had been an enjoyable morning, one she had not expected.
Her parents had insisted she get out of the house and do something today. Today. Of all days. It was her birthday, and the plans of staying in her room with her books had been removed by her persistent parents. As usual. As much as she had been annoyed at their continual reasoning of why she needed to get out more, she was glad they had. This place she had happened upon had been quite a find. The small sign pointing down the alley had been a questionable beckoning, but all the same, it had mentioned a library among its various descriptions of the establishment. Her interest peaked, she walked on down the alley, if only to have something to walk towards instead of the aimless wandering that had filled her morning. The alley ended in a small area that looked as though it had started to widen, only to be suddenly and abruptly ended by a mismatched wall of a new structure. Its placement would have required it to have been built later than its surrounding shops and homes, but it appeared to be aged far more than those around it. It gave the strange building intrigue and an anonymous purpose. The number of questions forming in her head began stacking up, a great rolling list of things she wanted answers for as she approached the door. Such a location surely held many stories, though she did hope that they were written. Wish disliked having to interact with strangers, even if it was to simply sit and hear a spoken story. She had slowly pushed the door open, using her best judgment to know whether it would be worth fully walking inside. Then again, if she found herself threatened, her parents would leave her be in her room for years to come with a continual supply of books in apology. It might be worthwhile no matter what was beyond the door.
She smelled the dusty scent that came not from abandonment, but of time. A place that was given attention but held far too much detail and age to remain spotless. Her favorite shops and rooms each had some variation of this, each unique to their gathered collections. Here she could smell something cooking as well, a final note which caused her to step fully inside. The interior was rather dim compared to the sunrise outside. She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the flickering candles, and the ever-shifting display of woven illumination and shadow. The borders of the room had shelves, cases, and displays; each packed with trophies, items, and books. She closed the door and began to approach one of the cases which was filled primarily with old books and tomes.
“Name?” a voice chimed out behind her.
Wish froze, one hand reaching up and clutching the old locket she kept tucked beneath her blouse, while she turned and faced the one addressing her. A man whom she had either completely overlooked or that had arrived soon after she had turned away stood patiently waiting behind a lectern, a magical quill flicking about at a record book. He was thin and stood in an oddly stiff posture which allowed Wish to return a quick smile.
“Need it be a true name?” Wish asked.
“Only that which I would call you by.” He stated.
“Then you may call me Wish.” she said.
There was a swift motion from the feather before it leaped back into its holder. The shop owner nodded and waved around the room.
“Feel free to browse.”
Wish gave a slight curtsy, a rather informal but simple motion that she hated to follow through within “proper” settings, but the action often helped end conversation rather effectively. When her eyes lifted, the shop owner was gone. Wish noted that it was too quick to be natural, but all the same, it ended the conversation without the awkward partings of two people crossing the same room. She went on to the bookcase she had wanted to search earlier. It took her no time at all to begin eagerly stacking up potential books to look through. Unlike most of the shops in town that had piles of outdated discovery journals, manuals, and poor quality stories, this collection of books was of high standard and quality. Well bound books of studies in other cultures, lost skills from extinct races, and adventure logs from explorers who had traveled afar. Wish found that there were books of fiction as well, wild imaginative stories of bizarre planes and settings. She found one that was written in gnomish and set it aside. Gnomes often had the most vivid imaginations, and she had made it a point to begin learning their language years ago when she had discovered that. She carefully shoved the other books back into their spaces. It proved difficult to fit everything back in place even with the sizable gnomish novel removed. Once she was satisfied that they had been left in a reasonable manner she picked up her choice of books and looked around for a spot to read, away from where other customers might pass by or sit.
The short hall along the front wall proved a suitable choice with a bench lining the length of a front window. She settled in and opened the first book.