ã€ŠThe Adventurer&#x27;s Librarianã€‹


 1. Johns Books

    John stood outside his new building. It was a little out of the way and didn''t look the best just yet ¡ª one-story, plain stone construction. There were a couple of holes in the front that were advertised as ''windows,'' but John was happy with his purchase.

    It wasn''t that he couldn''t afford something nicer, something more central in the busy districts in town. That just wasn''t what he wanted. He enjoyed having the more decrepit building a little out of the way and all the clientele that would hopefully come with that.

    The area was rather poor, not quite squalid but none of the other buildings nearby looked much nicer. It was a fairly bland district, lacking the vibrancy that came with bigger cities. No colourful signs hanging out of shops, no fancy magic pestering you to come look at this shop or that. Just a cobblestone road and other more different cobblestone buildings.

    He hoped to change that a little bit with his shop and add some life to the area. Not so much that the people living here couldn''t afford it anymore but enough that he enjoyed walking down the street.

    He waved his hand over the front door, magic flowing out and covering the wood. The magic settled into the door and it started to glow a dull orange, John''s favourite colour. He drew in the air with a finger and more magic settled into the door, a wisp of black spelled out ''John''s Books.'' John nodded, satisfied with his work and opened the door.

    Inside was an empty building, about 25 feet deep and 15 feet wide. The door was near the right of the shorter wall. He walked around, pulling dark wooden bookshelves with gold engravings from thin air and placing them in rows throughout his building. He made a gesture with his hands and books appeared, floating towards the bookshelves and filling them all up. A small wooden desk and his favourite chair he placed near the entrance to the building, before sitting down and staring at the door.

    Hours had passed with nobody entering, and John was getting bored. His claws tapping on the floor as he fiddled with a pencil. He had expected it to be slow, had wanted it to be slow even. But he didn''t want to wait for hours on end every day and never see anybody at all. He was about to get up when the door creaked open.

    A human girl walked in, her hair white as snow. She looked at him with some emotion John couldn''t quite place¡ªhe never did quite understand humans very well anyway. "Local Geography," the girl said, her voice shivering as she spoke. "Do you have any books on local geography?" she clarified.

    John thought for a moment, wondering about what scale ''local'' would mean to this girl. Did she want a map of the town? A map of nearby towns? Maybe she wanted a book describing the history of the planet. He finally realized that if he just moved all the books it could be to the same shelf, he could just let her decide for herself.

    John waved his hand and the books on the shelves lifted off, reorganizing themselves so that any books that may be considered local geography would be on the shelf closest to them. He directed the human girl to the shelf, her body shuddering as he pushed the directions into her. Not used to telepathy, he supposed.

    Most people around here weren''t he found, but the act of speaking just felt barbaric to him. It was how the people here worked though, and he would accept it, even if he didn''t understand it. Regardless, he didn''t possess the necessary physicality to speak and learning magic to produce sound in a specific language just so he could communicate less effectively didn''t seem like the best use of his time.

    A part of John reminded him he had just spent hours staring at a door, which also wasn''t a great use of his time but he pushed the thought aside. This was important.

    The girl returned with a book, placing it on the desk in front of John. "Um... How much is this book?" she asked, her hands rummaging through her pockets.

    He looked at the book, one filled with maps of mountains and cities within about 200km. John took a moment to build up the idea of payment¡ªone interesting story for the book, no lies permitted. He pushed the idea through to her mind, watching as her body shuddered once more at the sudden influx of information.

    "Oh... Um... What do you consider interesting?" the girl asked him, seeming to almost shrink into herself somehow.

    Stolen story; please report.

    Another idea was built in John''s mind, one of intrigue and mystery. Another of drama and excitement. Yet another of the most boring day he''s ever had. He spent a couple of moments building up an image of what he considered interesting and then pushed it once more through to the girl across from him.

    He almost felt sorry as her body convulsed, unable to control itself with the surge of memories flooding into its mind. Perhaps he would invest some time into learning to speak if only to not disturb his customers to such an extent.

    The girl looked at him, tears flowing down her cheeks. He recognized the emotion at last, it was fear. The girl was afraid of him, had been since she entered for some reason. He thought for a moment to send an image of peace and calm, to let her know that he wasn''t a danger to her but didn''t follow through on it. She was clearly put off by the telepathy and it might just scare her more.

    Instead, John drew the word ''Peace'' in the air between them with his magic. Wisps flowed through the word similar to his front door. The girl stared at it, her eyes wide before she started giggling. The giggles turned to laughs, as she fell to the floor clutching her midsection crying and laughing all the same.

    She stood up and looked at John, "How do I know the story I tell you won''t be spread to others?" She asked a spark of light in her deep red eyes that wasn''t there before.

    John wrote out the question ''Telepathy?'' in the space between them.

    "Are you asking if you can respond telepathically?" she asked, a hint of fear showing through her question.

    John nodded his head in response, a gesture he quite liked after he got used to it. A simple, concise response without requiring barbaric speech. She shivered for a moment and then also nodded her head.

    John thought for a moment about how to make the response simple yet believable. He didn''t want to overwhelm her again but he did want her to feel confident enough to share her story. He settled on his emotion, a pure interest in the stories of strangers. He didn''t know if it would convince her that he wouldn''t share her story, but it was the best he could do. The emotion was condensed, stripped of everything unnecessary before being pushed through to the girl. She shuddered once more but seemed to be getting more used to the experience, as she stood steadfast in the face of a foreign emotion flooding her mind.

    "Well, whatever. I guess it doesn''t matter that much anyway. I''m not from this world." the girl responded.

    John responded with his magical writing once more, ''Neither am I, which planet are you from?''

    The girl seemed surprised, excited almost. "I''m from Earth, where are you from?" she asked.

    John just shook his head, the name of his planet too long to spell out in this language. ''Too long to spell, Earth? How far?'' John wrote.

    "Oh. I''m not sure, I just kind of appeared here a little while ago and now I''m here. And a half-vampire or something apparently." She said, shrugging her shoulders.

    John was surprised, he thought she seemed strange for a human but to think she was a vampire, or whatever a half-vampire was. It was times like these that he wished he took the [Identify] skill, but he was still happy with his choice. Why take a skill to gauge the power of your enemy when you could instead take a skill to close that gap?

    The girl, or vampire, seemed to have noticed his surprise and continued with her story. "I was just in my bedroom trying to fix my stupid smart light when I got sucked through some weird portal thing and ended up in the forest nearby. I cried for a bit, and then a vampire attacked me and infected me. Something in the system broke though so I got a bunch of vampire skills and abilities," she showed her hands, extending the claws on the ends of her fingers. "But I didn''t get all the downsides of being a vampire. So I guess I''m lucky. The white hair has kinda grown on me too, I like it. Anyway, that''s my story. Is that interesting enough?"

    John smiled at her and nodded. ''Thank you. Enjoy the book.'' He wrote into the air.

    The girl nodded and picked up her book, walking out the door.

    John sat at his desk for a few minutes before he got up and started dancing. Excited about his first customer, and the interesting story she brought with her. To think somebody got all the benefits of being a vampire without the downsides. And what was a smart light even, he wondered. Some kind of torch that followed her around, perhaps? As he calmed down he noticed the same girl standing at the door holding in a laugh.

    "I forgot to say thanks for the book so I wanted to come back," she said, her words interrupted with little giggles.

    The girl smiled at him, "Thank you very much for the book. I don''t know if I could''ve afforded it normally anyway and it felt good to talk about what''s happened to me. Thanks." She turned around and left, the sounds of her laughter still audible for a few seconds after the door had closed.

    John felt pleased. His first customer seemed nice and was appreciative of what he had to offer. It was quite pleasant, John thought. He thought next time he would try to stay more calm afterwards, or at least lock the door. It was unlike him to not notice his surroundings like that. He thought for a moment before he got up and walked outside, closing the door behind him. He added some more text to the front of his building.

    ''Books available for the low low price of an interesting story. No lies permitted.''

    He nodded, proud of himself for the slight embellishment, then returned to his desk to wait for the next customer.

 2. Johns lights

    John sat at his desk, thinking about the previous day. A single human girl had come through, sharing an intriguing tale of half vampires. Something John would surely look into more himself when he found the time.

    She was afraid, terrified even, of John. And telepathy nearly broke the poor girl. John was no expert in business, but he recognized these as the problems they were.

    He made himself a plan for the day that he would work through during the downtime. Make his shop appear less scary, and figure out some way to communicate without telepathy. Or at the very least, keep the thoughts more simple so that the convulsions were less severe.

    The first problem was more manageable, John thought. Learning to speak would be complicated, but making his shop more cheerful would be simple. He looked around his shop, the gray stone walls contrasting the dark wooden bookshelves. The only hint of colour being the gold engravings in the bookshelves ¡ª enchantments to keep the books in good condition.

    He had acquired these bookshelves at a furniture store on the other side of town, thinking them to be quite nice. But perhaps a bookstore needs other things. Like lights, he thought, remembering the girl''s mention of her strange light. Torches were much too dangerous in a bookstore, but perhaps some magical flameless lights could be useful.

    He supposed some of his magic could be used to light the store, he''d heard that his writing was quite bright but it felt disingenuous to him. His shop deserved something beautiful, something crafted with love and passion. Not a bunch of ''O''s floating throughout the store.

    And so, John left his store, tapping on his door a couple of times to activate an enchantment. Closing the store during operation hours felt wrong to him, but there would be no point to trading his books if everybody he met was terrified. He walked down the cobblestone road towards the town proper, people staring at him as he passed them.

    Most of the population here were humans, and he was generally treated kindly but the stares got a little old at times. Part of the reason why he bought a building a little more out of the way. More privacy, and less people to be staring at him. He didn''t judge the people for it. He knew he was strange for this area, and people were naturally drawn to that mystery.

    People would even come up to him and ask him what he was on occasion, as though that was a question he could answer even if he wanted to. He often thought about telling them anyway, pushing through the idea of what he was and who his people were. Just to spite them. It was a fantasy of his, one he could never follow through on. It''s one thing to rend a person''s mind with information they aren''t prepared to handle in your fantasy. It''s another to do it in reality. One of them is much messier and just makes you feel bad, even if you think it wouldn''t when you walk down the street daydreaming of it.

    He arrived at the furniture store he bought his bookshelves at before, yanking him out of his dangerous fantasies. He''d never act on them, of course. But it was still his little joys to think about petty revenge. Or maybe not so petty, considering they would likely die. Yet another thing he''d never understand but tried to respect.

    He stood outside the store, looking around for a moment. This area was much wealthier, the stores made of varying materials. Some made of stone, yet seeming of much higher quality than anything in his district. Clean white, and of one solid piece instead of the mix of stone his buildings had. Another a single large blue translucent crystal. Wisps of magic floated through the street, calling John to different buildings. Flashing signs floating outside of each building, words describing the stores.

    John entered the furniture store, Soteco was the name, according to the sign above the door. It was much larger inside than John''s bookstore was, with three stories each of which taller than John''s single floor. It needed to be, he supposed, seeing the furniture contained within. Bookshelves, desks, chairs, light fixtures, clocks. You name it, and it was stuffed in here. Organized beautifully, each floor separated by an ornate wooden staircase.

    He headed up to the second floor where the lights were and looked around for something that would fit. He didn''t want it to be too gaudy, but something to match his bookshelves at least. He looked for light posts, maybe something of a lighter material than his dark bookshelves. Add in some contrast, he thought contrast would probably be good.

    A couple of lights stood out to him. One made of the same white stone some of the buildings were made of here. Marble, according to the piece of paper attached to it. The other was a somewhat off white wood with similar gold engravings to his bookshelf. He wasn''t sure what the gold did on the lights, but he made a note to ask the clerk if he chose this one.

    He thought he probably would, given that it matched his bookshelves somewhat while still providing the contrast he was looking for. But he spent a few more minutes looking around the floor. Nothing else really stood out to him, and he couldn''t decide between the two lights he had settled on. Maybe both, he thought? Would it be better to have different kinds of lights, or better to have consistency. If it was only one of the lights, he thought he would prefer the wooden one. But he did quite like the stone one too.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    John summoned a coin, one side having a single head and the other side having two heads. He would flip it, and if it landed with one head he would take the wooden one. If it landed with two heads, he would take both. He flipped the coin in the air, watching it spin. He could see the result already, the coin spinning terribly slow but let it land on the back of his hand regardless. One head.

    He headed downstairs to the front desk, seeing the same human man sitting behind it as when he purchased his bookshelves. The man flinched but smiled and greeted John asking to be lead to whatever it is he would like to purchase. John appreciated the straightforwardness this time. The last time it was this back and forth with the human insisting that they only did delivery and John couldn''t take the bookshelves himself. The man gave in eventually but it was still a frustrating experience.

    The man followed John to the light he wanted. He pushed a question through to the man, inquiring about the gold engravings on the light. The man flinched again but explained that the engravings were to help the enchantments keep the light running for longer. The marble one didn''t require it apparently since marble was already an excellent conductor of mana, but the wood required some assistance. John remembered seeing wooden lights without gold in it before but he wasn''t an expert on enchantments like the man before him was.

    The lights were 15 gold each and John summoned a small pouch full of coins, waving his hand over the lights as five of them vanished. The man took the pouch and thanked John for his patronage then hurried back to his desk. John had enough of walking through the busy streets for the day and so focused on his shop, teleporting back to the inside of it.

    He started placing the five lights throughout his store, hoping they would be enough to light up the place. Maybe he would have somebody with eyes come and help him set up the lights another day. A knock on the door interrupted him, and he remembered he never unlocked the door.

    John rushed over, opening it and seeing who was behind it. It was another human, a man this time. Red hair and torn clothes revealing his scarred body below.

    He looked at John, "Is this a bookstore?" the man asked.

    John looked at his door and the writing on it, remembering that not everybody could read. Especially those in a poorer district like this, he nearly slapped himself at the mistake. No wonder so few people came by.

    John nodded his head and moved out of the way so the man could enter. He went back to placing his lights around the store, paying attention to the man walking around. Perhaps he could help John ensure the place was well lit. John looked at the placement of the lights, satisfied that it was the best he could do and sat back down at his desk.

    "Do you have any books that are easier to read? I''m trying to teach myself to read and these all seem a little complicated..." the man asked, approaching John''s desk.

    Of course, John realized, if people here couldn''t even read his sign how would they read the books. He contemplated for a moment just sending the entirety of the written language through to the man but decided against it. He didn''t want to cause another of his customers to convulse as he did yesterday.

    But the thought of having to learn something that somebody else knew was just incredible. Yet another reason the spoken word was inferior, having to teach people instead of giving them the knowledge would slow progress down to an incredible degree. But that was why he loved it here, it was all so different. So strange, and that interested him. They were happy, they felt successful and powerful despite being so fragile.

    Right, the customer. John had learned from his experience yesterday and instead of debating over anything he merely waved his hand, causing the books to rearrange themselves. Some of the books floated back to John, vanishing once they were within about a meter. Other books appeared and floated towards the nearest bookshelf.

    The man watched in wonder, maw agape in shock, or perhaps horror. John directed him to the bookshelf he placed all of the easier books on. They ranged from children''s books to entertainment for younger adults. The man looked through the books, picking out one of the children''s books. A fun story of a rabbit that hopped around a field meeting lots of different animals.

    The man asked how much it would cost, and John pushed the idea he already had built through to the man. The man shivered, yet another not used to telepathy. He thought for a moment before he began to share his story.

    "I was captured by a group of bandits a couple of years back. They were quite nice though actually. I was given some of the most delicious food I''d ever eaten, had a certain degree of freedom to roam around the camp and one of them even taught me the alphabet. I had to help them with menial work in exchange, sometimes mining, sometimes cleaning up.

    "If we traveled I would usually get a disproportionate amount of luggage to drag along with me. And I couldn''t leave. It''s strange, I was without a doubt a slave of theirs. But I don''t resent them for it. One day a group of adventurers came and attacked the camp while I was off cleaning up some laundry at the nearby river.

    "I returned to death, the wildlife having come in to find what the smell was. I was attacked, and struggled to survive, running as hard as I could. Somehow I made it to this town but nobody''s willing to help me so I''m poor, starving and homeless. I had a much better life when I was a slave. I want to learn to read partly to honour Alicia''s memory, and partly to find employment somehow. Is that enough for the book?"

    John nodded his head and sent a simple thank you through to the man. The man thanked John and left with his book. Wishing to be a slave again just so he could eat. John thought about it for a moment.

    The story was too incomplete to draw conclusions. Perhaps the bandits were worse than the man made them seem, or perhaps the man just isn''t asking for help instead of people not being willing to help. John certainly would''ve had the man asked. But perhaps it is difficult to ask for help when you''ve been a slave for so long and the town should recognize the problem and have accessible options available to people anyway.

    But how common is the problem, John wondered. Is it worth investing the money into something that so few people are affected by? Or is it a more wide spread problem that shows a lack of care from the leaders? An interesting story, John thought. He hoped for more people to come in with related stories so he could piece more of the picture together.

 3. Johns Space

    John looked at his list of skills, thinking about which ones could be used to create some kind of sound illusion to speak with.

    He wasn''t willing to give up one of his precious slots just to speak but if he could make do with something he already had, he would. None of his skills had obvious pathways to creating a sound illusion. It was times like these that he envied the weaker species of this planet for the variety and freedom that their system provided. He had heard that there was no limit to the number of skills a person could have here, but from what he had witnessed they were also not very powerful abilities.

    Even his [Devastation] alone outperformed the strongest beings he''d seen in actual fights. Unless there were other more powerful beings hiding away somewhere, the pinnacle of power this planet had to offer was barely capable of destroying mountains. A pathetic showing, but then he wasn''t one for fighting anyway, not anymore.

    Perhaps the variety it provided would lead to a more rewarding life in the end. Variety was after all the purpose of taking [Runic Inscribing]. Being able to draw into the air was fun, but he learned early after taking it that if he wasn''t careful it could have disastrous consequences.

    [Devastation] he might be able to replace but it felt wrong to him to give up so much power just for a skill to talk. Maybe one would be available that would be powerful and also let him talk, as [Runic Inscribing] did for his writing. But it wasn''t worth the risk.

    [Storage] was necessary if he didn''t want to haul millions of bags around with him everywhere he went. [Spacial Mastery] was the only reason he felt comfortable traveling as he did. And [Immortality] was a standard skill for anybody who wasn''t arrogant.

    Perhaps it was similar to his belief with [Identify]. If you don''t waste a slot on [Immortality] then who can kill you anyway? Other people who also did that, he reminded himself. At least without [Identify] the worst that would happen is he would suffer a bit of pain for a while.

    So none of his skills were replaceable, he decided. He would either make do with what he had, or figure out some way to make people less uncomfortable with telepathy. [Devastation], [Immortality], and [Storage] were off the table as options. None of them would allow him to speak.

    [Runic Inscribing] might be able to, if he could figure out a rune that would allow him to somehow produce sound on demand. If he had to draw runes to produce sound anyway it would probably be easier to just draw words. Maybe he can create a rune that automatically speaks the words he writes so people who have trouble reading can still understand what he''s writing. Using [Runic Inscribing] so freely like that is a bit dangerous though. It would be pretty simple if he needed to, but he wanted to avoid using it more than necessary.

    [Spacial Mastery], then. He thought about how it could be used to create speech. First off, what was speech, anyway? Speech is just sound waves in a specific pattern that are recognized as words. Could [Spacial Mastery] create sound waves, somehow? John focused on a small space in the air in front of him, wondering how he could create specific patterns of sound waves by shaking the air. That was all sound did anyway, so if he could shake the space it occupied in the specific patterns it would mimic speech, he guessed. He began to vibrate the air in front of him, creating a wind that flipped over a few of the pages in the book he had.

    John wondered why that was. He was vibrating the air back and forth but it wasn''t creating anything audible despite creating enough wind to flip over some pages. What was the difference between wind and sound anyway? Both were just moving the air around, would wind not be considered sound but not words?

    It wasn''t something John had ever thought of before, not something he ever needed to think of. And he doubted it would be something he would figure out quickly. He decided to shelve the practice for now, he was missing something important, a fundamental piece of how sound worked. Maybe he could find some skills that create sound and study them, or perhaps a book on the study of sound.

    He got up and went outside, looking at the front of his shop. His orange glowing door with the black text floating in front of it greeting him. The stone walls with large ''windows'' filling up the rest of his building. Something he wanted to fix at a later time, maybe he would replace the stone with the clean white stone he saw in the busier district. Or maybe some nice wood to match his current wooden furniture. Or maybe you want it to be different, for contrast. Contrast was good, he thought.

    Something new, something different. Something interesting. He wanted to put a book on the front of his door, but an issue he faced was that his magic didn''t allow him to just draw anything he wanted. He had to draw letters, at least in some language. And to create a book out of a bunch of letters using a skill that turns those letters into some magical effects wasn''t something he could do on the fly. He needed to practice and put together something that would be safe. He tapped on his door twice, locking it and focused on a particular section of space that he often spent his time at.

    Blackness surrounded him, a handful of stars far off in the distance struggling to reach the depths of space John had. He hadn''t been here for a while, and took a moment to appreciate the serenity of it all.

    Peace, with nothing to bother him but himself. It got lonely if he stayed here for too long but it was a relaxing space, and he liked being able to come here whenever he wanted. He should make time for it more often, though he thinks that every time he comes here and never does. The familiar black writing materialized in space as he wrote a series of letters from various languages, forming them into the shape of an open book.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    As he wrote down the final letter, the book began to glow, more than it already was. John cursed to himself. He had been so close, if he just used a different ''L'' shaped letter from another language, perhaps he would''ve got it first try. He teleported a ways back from the expanding book, watching to see what it would do.

    The book continued to expand, reaching a few hundred kilometers wide before the next moment it had shrank in on itself. A pulse of magic could be felt all the way back where John was, and then an explosion of pink and blue filled the vast expanse of space for as far as John could see. It took a couple of hours for the gas to dissipate, and John enjoyed the sight. A rune he would remember, and maybe something to test the destructive powers of. If it were harmless, it could be fun. Especially if he could manage to shrink the effect down to something more manageable. He redrew the rune again, but this time changing out the final letter for a different, similar shaped letter in a language from a planet he had visited a while back. The rune did nothing this time, the magic in it remaining dormant.

    John returned to his bookstore and drew the book into his door, making it clear that this store sold books, even if you couldn''t read. He wondered why that was necessary now, actually. If somebody couldn''t read, why would they be buying a book? Oh well, at least he discovered a new rune and maybe some more people would be coming in wanting to learn to read.

    He unlocked the door, and sat down at his desk again. He thought about how he could fix up the outside of his shop, would it be something as simple as transmuting the material? Or would he have to tear it down and rebuild it. He didn''t want to draw over all of it, that would be far too tedious, he was happy the book only took a few hours.

    His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, his third customer since opening the shop wandering in. This was another girl, dressed in lavish clothes, frills and bows covering her blue dress. Her blond hair tied back with a red bow with gold stitching. A butler followed her in, his suit pristine and untouched by the dust that was surely raised as they walked here. Magic to keep themselves clean, he supposed. The girl glared at the butler as he entered.

    "Ma''am, I can''t leave you alone. It''s already too much that we are here in this shop." the butler said, smiling at her.

    She continued glaring, "I''m your boss and I''m telling you to leave me alone in here. You can wait outside, I''ll take the blame if anything happens okay?"

    The butler sighed and left, standing outside. The girl looked at John and gasped, her eyes going wide. "What are you?" she nearly screamed at him.

    ''A Librarian'' John wrote into the air in front of him.

    "No no, I mean like what are you? You''re not human are you?" she said, rushing up to the desk and staring at him.

    ''I can''t say'' he wrote. A moment after, he wrote ''Book?''

    This girl was his least favourite type of person. He thought about simply removing her from the store but she seemed important and the recourse wouldn''t be worth it. He liked this bookstore and wanted to keep it, at least for now. Maybe one day he would throw the disrespect back in their face and say what he wants but for now he needed to be civil. She was a customer, she would buy a book and John would get an interesting story out of it.

    "Oh, yes." she said, her voice excited before she continued on in a whisper. "I''m looking for romantic stories if you have them."

    John waved his hand, filling the nearest bookshelf with what she was asking for. He directed her to it and she ran off to it, almost skipping along as she did.

    He watched her as she looked through the books one by one. Dozens of them, her excitement wearing off and turning to disappointment.

    The door opened once more as the butler poked his head in. "Ma''am, are you still alright in here?" he asked.

    The girl screamed at him, slamming the book she was holding onto the bookshelf, "I SAID WAIT OUTSIDE!"

    The butler closed the door, sighing once more.

    The girl approached John again, looking a bit more nervous this time. "Umm.. are there any romances with umm.. two girls instead? Maybe with pictures, even..." she whispered to him, barely audible to his ears.

    She wanted gay romance, he realized. He had misjudged her, putting only heterosexual romances on the bookshelf. He waved his hand again, replacing all of the books with gay romance instead.

    She ran back to the bookshelf, blushing but giddy with excitement once more. He wondered about the need of all the other bookshelves if every time customers ask for something he just moves them to the closest bookshelf anyway. He had thought he would have more people in at once but if it''s just one at a time maybe there''s a better way to do it. A thought for another time, he supposed.

    John watched as she picked through the books again, this time her excitement not wearing off. She had put three books aside by the time she went through all of them. She placed the three books in front of her and looked at them once more. She spent a few minutes deliberating over her decision and then put two of them back. She took the one book up to John''s desk, "So I just tell you an interesting story and I get it for free? Are you sure I can''t just pay? I have lots of money." The girl asked.

    John shook his head, writing ''Story'' in the air.

    "Okay, umm. So I was at a tea party one day, right? And it was just the five of us girls sitting around the table talking about boys and stuff. And I kinda realized that I just don''t care about boys, I guess? They all seemed so excited about marrying this boy or that boy and how cute he is or how nice he is. But all I could think about was how beautiful Angelica was and how much I wanted to kiss her. But I don''t know if I can marry a girl, that''s kinda weird right?" The girl asked. John just shook his head. "Oh. Maybe it isn''t. I don''t know any girls who have married girls though. Everybody always seems to marry boys and they all seem so happy with it. But I just don''t like it. Um.. is that enough for the book?"

    John nodded his head at her, pleased with her tale. She took the book and thought about something for a moment. "Do you have a bag for it? I don''t want anybody to see it, I guess." John shook his head, but summoned a thin metal wire. He wrote some words onto the wire and then bent it into a ring and handed it to her.

    "What''s this?" she asked. John took the ring and tapped it on the book, the book getting sucked into the ring and then gave it back to her. She put the ring on and the metal sunk into her finger, disappearing. She watched with eyes wide and asked John what he was again. He shook his head and teleported her outside to her butler. A final moment of pleasure for him.

    He didn''t think her story was that interesting, she can love who she wants and there''s nothing of note to it. But to her, this was the most interesting thing she could think to share. And that was always something John enjoyed. That disconnect. To think that in her social group, being gay was something to be concerned about. Or perhaps not, with how the butler smiled as he watched the girl tell her story. John thought about putting up a barrier to give the girl the privacy she wanted, but she never asked for it. And the butler seemed to play along with it despite being able to see just as well as if he were inside. He was glad he didn''t kick her out initially. Something about those two just made him hopeful.

 4. Johns Time

    John looked at his store, rows of bookshelves spread evenly throughout the building. He thought about how he could change it and make it easier for the books to be sorted according to what the people were looking for. Sending them to the closest bookshelf worked, but if that''s how this shop is going to work then perhaps there''s a better way to handle it.

    He still wanted to have the bookshelves laid out in case multiple people did come through at a time. But then he realized they''d have to wait to pay anyway, if everybody here is going to be using speech as they have so far. It''s not as though people can just grab a book and send an interesting story to John, they would have to wait in a line and tell their story which can take a few minutes.

    Maybe it would be best to just allow one person in at a time. But then what if a customer came in and browsed while the previous one told their story, and by the time the customer found a book they liked the previous one was done telling their story.

    He decided on keeping some bookshelves available for people to browse through but to set up the entrance better to accommodate the one on one interactions. He would have his desk sat by the wall near the front door, and then add another bookshelf next to where he sat that he could fill with books people want.

    The rows of bookshelves already in the building would remain as they were, this would just be an additional one added right next to where he sat. He looked at the space, his desk was already rather close to where the bookshelves went. And if he placed another bookshelf here on the wall, it would block off being able to access the one side of the bookshelf closest to the wall. A simple fix, however, as he focused on the space between his desk and the rows of bookshelves.

    The space expanded in a strange way. If you were approaching the normal rows of bookshelves it would look as though the newest addition were shrunk. Yet if you wanted to browse this new bookshelf, it would seem as though the original bookshelves were pushed farther back.

    John sat back down and thought about other additions he could make to his shop. A part of him thought about working on his speech again, but it was a frustrating venture.

    He didn''t understand how sound worked well enough to produce it and would need to study. A problem for another day, or perhaps he could pay more attention to how the humans that came by produced their speech. He never did care much for it, but he begun to think of speech as perhaps being less barbaric than he first thought. It was slow and inefficient, but complicated in its nature. That these beings could produce such sounds so effortlessly impressed him.

    One thing he could work on was his lighting, he still hadn''t quite figured out how that all worked. He supposed it was bright enough since nobody had really complained yet but he would still like to have somebody in to verify this or help him out at least.

    Advertising was another thing, but he wasn''t quite sure how to do that either. He could work on making some books that float outside his shop but would that draw in more people or just look strange? John wasn''t sure, and he was rather satisfied with the additions he had already made.

    He would want to change out the material of his building at some point but that was something he would have to plan. He needed to know what material he even wanted it to be, and then needed to acquire that material, and while he could figure out how to transmute it himself, it was better to find somebody who specialized in that. If only to keep the economy working as it was. John was already doing enough giving out free books, but he didn''t have enough customers for anybody to care about his little bookstore anyway.

    So the only thing he could do is clean. He thought about erasing all of the dust and debris that had floated in through the wide open windows when he realized he still had no windows in his shop. That could be something he worked on, of course. The windows could stay even after the material changed so he could go pick out some nice windows for his store in the meantime.

    He was about to get up and go shopping when somebody opened the door and walked in. This was another human. Most of them were human around here, he found. There were a few elves as well but they generally tried to stay hidden and he respected that. This person was without a doubt human, however. He wore a well fitted suit of silver armour with a sword at his waist. His dark brown hair tied back with a string. The man looked at John, his blue eyes seeming to judge every fiber of John''s being. An impressive human, John remarked to himself. The man exuded confidence and power.

    "Where is your boss? I''ve heard of an exceptionally strong warrior owning a bookstore here. I would like to fight him." The man said, glancing around the store.

    John responded with the idea of his ownership, pushing it through to the man''s mind. He felt more resistance here than he had with anybody else on this planet. A small bar to be sure, but it interested John nonetheless.

    The man scoffed at John, "You''re the owner? You''re barely even level fifty, and I''m supposed to believe you are the powerful owner of this shop? Please. Bring me your boss or I will slaughter you where you stand."

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    John thought about what to do. The man wouldn''t believe that he was the owner because he was too weak, a mistake that made John more than a little happy with his decision to not take [Identify] all those years back. This man must have had it, and were John to be less forgiving then the man would have paid for his mistake with his life.

    Maybe John would have taken the skill as well if he were human and didn''t need to sacrifice something else to have it. But this situation raises the question of whether it''s worth it even then. It is much safer to assume that everybody can kill you in the blink of an eye, or at least ensure you can''t be killed. John doubted this man had achieved immortality, humans very rarely did.

    And even when they did it was usually in the form of something like a vampire. Immune to the passing of time but not to raw destructive power. He thought back on the half vampire he had met and whether she had gained immortality or not. Maybe she would return someday and share more stories.

    "Hello? I''m going to give you ten seconds to tell me where your boss is before I strike you down." The man said, reminding John of his current predicament.

    John tested the man for a moment with his magic, trying to control the space he occupied. There was almost no resistance, he found. The man had some power, likely even one of the strongest humans John had ever met. Perhaps even the strongest.

    But that just didn''t mean anything, it was as though he found a particularly powerful ant that could carry a slightly larger leaf than the others. It was a shame the man was so aggressive, he would have some very interesting stories to share John thought. He put together another thought, one of peace. One of trading information and stories, and pushed it to the man. Again he did not flinch, despite the larger blast of information.

    The man scoffed once more and drew his sword. "No. I will be fighting your boss."

    He started to run towards John. From John''s perspective, the man was running almost in place. But from the man''s perspective, the distance between John and the man had extended, John visible as only but a speck in the far distance. The man''s face warped in confusion, unable to understand what had just happened. John allowed the man to run for a few minutes before he shrunk the space once more. The man suddenly jolting to awareness as John returned to his proximity.

    "What did you just do to me?" the man roared at John.

    John once more pushed the idea of peace and a trade of information to him. But the man scoffed and screamed at him, rushing to him again. John allowed him to approach and just as his sword was about to strike the man was teleported to the forest just outside of town. John shook his head and thought about what kind of windows he would like again, when the door was flung open by the same man. John sent forth the idea of banishment, of not being permitted to enter his store again. And then teleported him outside of town again.

    The man came back yet again moments later, almost ripping the door off its hinges as he threw it aside and leapt into the store, sword ready. He screamed at John and ran at him again. John gripped the space the man occupied, preventing him from moving. The man''s eyes went wide as he fought against the hold but found himself unable to move an inch.

    At this point, John was furious. He had insisted on peaceful trade, and when that failed even removed the man from his store safely. And then did so again and told the man he was not allowed. And now he is here again, damaging his building, insistent on seeking his death. He would give the man one last chance, but this time he would make it as clear as possible that the man was in above his head.

    John stood from his chair and approached the man. He built up the idea of death, of despair and sent it forth to the man. John drew a sign in the air, and his windows blacked out, all contact from the outside world blocked off. He pulled all of the air in his building together, concentrating it around the man floating next to him, isolating it from everything else. Then he teleported them out into the vast expanse of space, remembering to pull all of the air with him and keep it contained around the man so he wouldn''t die in the vacuum.

    John looked at the man and made sure he was watching before he pointed out in front with his finger. [Devastation], he thought.

    The two of them watched as space itself seemed to warp and tear, thousands of kilometers in front of them. Purple arcs of lightning bouncing around the tears for a few moments before there was a noticeable lack of existence in the space ahead of them. The universe seemed to implode in on itself as a wind rushed past them towards the non existence, filling it back in.

    John allowed the universe to settle for a moment before he looked at the man again and allowed him to move once more, confined within his air bubble. The man looked at John and cried, apologizing for his idiocy and thanking him for not killing him. J

    ohn nodded, satisfied the man had learned his lesson and teleported them back to his building. He allowed the air to fill his building once more and then drew another sign, the street outside returning to his windows. The man screamed and ran out his door. John wasn''t sure where he would be going, but he didn''t much care as long as it wasn''t here.

    He sat down at his desk, upset about what had happened. Not only did he not have anybody come in with an interesting story today, but he even had somebody actively seek to make his day worse. He thought about closing for the day but maybe somebody else would come in and share a story and make his day worth it. He supposed it was a little interesting to meet the strongest human he had seen yet, as disappointing as that was.

    With the variety afforded to them, John was surprised the man hadn''t taken all of the advantages he could get. He seemed to be somewhat resistant to telepathy at least but space magic seemed to be as effective against him as anybody else. If he had the option, why wouldn''t he take all of the skills he could get to make his prospects as good as possible? Impatience, maybe?

    He had heard that humans live for a long time when they''re higher leveled, so it should be common sense at that point to rethink your perspective on time, John thought. Instead of rushing through life fighting the strongest you can, focus on yourself and build up your skills and possibilities first. If the man had spent a few decades practicing space magic, John may not have been able to trap him in an endless corridor. Maybe it comes from their short lifespan without the assistance of levels. They end up planning for sixty years then live for thousands, but struggle to ever shift their instincts over to the new timescale they have.

 5. Johns Universe

    John sat at his desk, looking at his windows. A part of him expected the man to rush back in and demand his death once more, but the man never did. A part of John wanted to go look for some windows to install into his building, add in something more to look at as people walked down the street. Something to draw their attention and make them look inside at the rows of books laid out for them to choose from.

    But he didn''t leave, annoyed at what had happened and not wanting to deal with the stares he would get if he were to walk down the street. He could teleport to the store and skip it all but he just wrote it off. He was in a bad mood and he would wait until he could enjoy his shopping trip. For now, he would think about other things.

    The hours passed as he thought about the customers he''s already had. A half vampire, a slave and a lesbian all walked into a bookstore. It sounded like the start to a bad joke. Or maybe, with how they reacted to it, the start of a bad nightmare.

    The thought saddened John, he wanted to be welcomed and accepted but it was difficult. There was always the option of disguising himself as one of them but that wouldn''t be him, they wouldn''t be caring for John the ¦Ì????????????????????????????????????¨_?????????????????????? but John the human. His self wallowing was interrupted by the door opening, a familiar face walking in. White hair, red eyes and claws that even John could respect. It was the same girl from a few days ago.

    The girl looked at John, her face drooping for a moment. "Hey bud, how''s it going?" The girl asked.

    John was surprised, nobody had ever asked him how he was. People never seemed to care, more interested in their own business and questioning what he was rather than how he was. It was pleasant, seeing somebody care. He remembered the girl had struggled with telepathy only a few days prior, so he built up a simple idea. ''Pleasant.''

    The girl smiled at John. "Good, you seemed upset when I came in."

    Did he seem upset, John wondered? He supposed he wasn''t in a great mood but he thought he had better control over these things. A pleasing reminder that the humans'' power lay in other areas than destruction. Empathy was something they excelled at. John often struggled to understand what people were feeling, it was unnecessary after all. Whether the people he spoke with were happy or sad, joyous or mad didn''t matter when all he would do was destroy. Now that he was settling down though, the benefit of empathy became more apparent.

    "So I''ve got an odd question. I still don''t technically have a class. The whole vampire thing was supposed to give me a vampire class but that kinda fell apart because of some weird bug. I''ve been working as help at a tavern nearby and got a bunch of tavern related classes but I dunno, I want something more, I guess? Where I come from there are these things called video games. And this world feels similar to that and it just... settling for a janitorial class feels so lacking. I want something more. Something a lot more. And I feel like I have an advantage because I''m a vampire without the vampire class so I just want something really good. Maybe I''m greedy but I''m going to live forever apparently so it just seems to me like I should spend more time on my class. Or does it not really matter anyway? Everybody else says to just take something and it''ll class up later. But all I have are classes that make me more effective at serving beer to pricks."

    Interesting, John though. This human had so quickly recognized her newfound immortality and the benefits that it could bring. John wasn''t the best at estimating a human''s age but she seemed to be a young adult, her life not having spanned more than twenty five years. Most humans as John knew acquired their class as soon as they were able to at the age of ten.

    He wondered why she didn''t already have a class, only having acquired immortality recently. Perhaps the world she came from operated differently. But that wouldn''t make sense, the system was created to work in all known worlds. So she must have just put it off even before acquiring immortality. But she seems to be only having tavern related classes, it seems entirely unlikely that somebody would her age and not have even a single other class.

    ''Did your world have magic?'' John wrote out between the two of them. An inquiry, his interest piqued.

    "No, not like this anyway. We had people who would use sleight of hand and call it magic but nobody could fly or write words into thin air like you can. Even cleaning wasn''t magical over there, we just had to pick up a broom and sweep." The girl responded.

    A world without magic, without the system. John would like to visit it one day, witness how society would grow without magic. The universe as John knew it never had the opportunity, the system encompassing all at a very early stage, magic influencing the progression of everything.

    John waved his hand, filling the bookshelf next to him with books on rare classes. Some books containing classes that humans could never get, the requirements far too steep for a human without assistance, given to show what could be. For as many advantages as the girl had, it was dangerous for her to assume she was the strongest. Some of the books were filled with simple classes, ones that humans would naturally achieve by reaching the age of ten, to show her the basics.

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    If she could piece together how classes worked, the relationship between requirements and abilities then perhaps she could forge her own path. The rest was filled with books filling up the range in between. Books that talented ten year olds would achieve, books that the strongest humans he met could achieve. Some even a little more, taking her vampire abilities into account. Some sitting right in the middle, a solid choice for any human to take.

    The girl spent a few hours browsing through the books, taking her time with almost every single one as night began to fall, darkness filling his windows. The girl looked at him, "Oh, sorry. Uh how long until you close? I didn''t realize it was getting so late."

    John shook his head.

    "So you don''t close? Like, ever?" She asked.

    ''Shopping.'' John wrote.

    "So you only close when you''re shopping? Wow... Ok, guess I''ll keep looking for a while. Thanks."

    The girl spent a few more hours reading through the books before bringing one up to the desk. It was a white book, cold to the touch. Filled with information on classes with a focus on cold magic.

    "I came to this world in a snowy forest so ice just seems fitting, I guess. The requirements seem the easiest too. Uhh, story for book right. Ah! OK, so I was at school one day, a while back. We were in computer class. Computers are like these machines that can show pictures and stuff. Like your lights but if there were billions of them and they were really really small and you could control what colour each one was. It makes a picture and the computers did all of that while you just controlled it with a couple of tools. One had all the letters of the alphabet so you could write stuff and the other controlled the focus, I guess?

    "Anyway, I was using a computer and watching a video. Which is like a flip book? But it was on the computer screen. And there was sound. Anyway the computer froze on a frame of an iceberg. Froze is like, it broke. The computer stopped working and the screen stopped updating so it was just frozen in time kinda. But not really any time shenanigans, it was just broken. I thought it was funny cause it froze on an iceberg, which is cold. So its like the iceberg froze the computer." The girl said and laughed. "Kinda fitting that I''m here looking for cold classes actually isn''t it?"

    John wasn''t sure how to respond. Computers? Lights? Videos? The world she came from was certainly quite different from anything he had experienced. And all done without magic, too. So it should all be possible here, and yet it hasn''t been done. People there couldn''t fly while over here that was rather common amongst the powerful and that''s just amongst humans.

    How different would the world really be, and was magic really the boon that John always thought it was? John was happy with his life, he thought. It didn''t really matter if there was another world where people were more advanced in some ways. But it was interesting.

    "Is that enough for the book?" the girl asked. John nodded his head.

    "Thank you!" she said, and rushed out the door.

    He had liked the girl on their first meeting, but now she interested him even more. He hoped to see her again one day, and maybe see what kind of class she ended up with. He had so many questions, an overwhelming number. He wanted descriptions of the cities they lived in, the species that they lived with, communication, languages. Everything.

    Another world she said, and he believed her to mean another planet. How ridiculous. This girl had come from another universe, one that would be filled with things he''d never seen. She said she came into this world in the forest, he remembered. Maybe there would be some remnants of the movement that he could identify, some way that he could visit her universe himself and see with his own eyes.

    John teleported himself out to the forest, flying through it as trees bent out of his way. He searched for any sign of space being torn, looking for the portal she had come through. A few minutes of searching later and he found something, a flicker in the space in a clearing nearby. He walked over, careful not to damage the fragile remnants with his magic.

    John looked at the flicker, almost imperceptible even to him, but there was something here. Now that he''d seen it, it was clear as day. He focused on the space, trying to peer through it when he saw an image of a room. Filled with flickering lights. He saw what looked like the computer screen the girl had described.

    John had a decision to make now. He could go through the rift, entering into the girl''s world. But he had no way of knowing if it could sustain him. No mana could be felt through the rift, but it was the first time John had ever experienced something like this so he had no idea if that meant there was no mana, or if it meant that mana couldn''t be felt through the rift.

    There was also no way of knowing if he could get back, having seen the space if the rift were to be closed. And leaving the rift open just sounded like a problem to John, this was an entire universe that had been untouched by magic, if the girl''s story were true. She certainly believed it to be true, but she could have just been unaware. To leave the rift open and risk exposing an entire universe to the despair of change was irresponsible.

    But if he closed it, could he get back? Exposing the universe to himself was also problematic of course, but John had priorities. Exploration was number one. Not destroying an entire universe came in at a close second.

    In the end, John decided to close the rift. He had seen the space, remembered the feeling. He recognized the rift. He would remember how it felt, and work to recreate it later when he learned more and felt more confident exploring.

    Closing the rift was interesting, were it to be somewhere else John would simply destroy the space it occupied. But to do so here would damage the planet. So he worked with finer control than he was used to, stitching up the rift bit by bit until he couldn''t identify anything strange with the space anymore.

    A shame that John could see such an interesting universe but be unable to visit it. His [Immortality] may not work if he had no mana to power it with, and the risk of permanent death was far too great. He would return to this venture another day, but for now he teleported back to his bookstore and sat in his desk, waiting for his next customer.

 6. Johns Child

    John decided to take a break, remembering wanting to spend more time relishing the serenity of space. He teleported himself out to his little corner of space and looked around. Small remnants remaining from when he cast his spell not long ago, space still seeming to settle in around the area.

    He looked around, enjoying the glowing stars in the distance, the near absolute silence that surrounded him. It was peaceful, and on days like today he needed some time to process it all. Frustrations welling up inside him. In part thanks to the annoying human he had to deal with, and in part due to the dearth of information he had about the new universe he was so close to visiting.

    To think that he would in one day discover the existence of something so important, and then actually find a rift to it, and then be forced to close it off. The stories those people could tell him, of computers and life without magic. Every single person he would meet would be so important to him, so meaningful. With a life so different than anything he thought possible. He could have reached out and touched it.

    He drifted through space, trying to keep himself from spiraling into a depression. There were people here who were interesting as well, he reminded himself. Somebody even from that universe, who might come by. Perhaps even people from other universes, just as different as hers.

    The thought had never occurred to him. Why had she been brought here, anyway? Was this universe somehow different than the others? Was there a draw in this universe, some kind of force that pulled through the mesh? If there were no magic in her universe, then that might mean that beings had never been brought from other universes.

    Perhaps if he lived in her universe, he never would have had the chance to meet her. Maybe it was good after all that he couldn''t visit her universe. If only he had some way of knowing he would be able to get back. The risk was too great though, he already knew that.

    It was time to return, John decided. He had spent enough time lost in his thoughts, and wanted to meet more people, learn more interesting stories. Perhaps the girl had come back with another tale of her world, or perhaps another traveler had come with a story of theirs. He had no idea of knowing how long had passed, no reference point out here to base it on.

    The first thing John noticed when returning was the layer of dust that had built up over everything. It had been a while, he felt. But it was good for him, to have time to process the frustrations. To work through his emotions in a constructive manner. He waved his hand, all the dust whipping through the air towards him before disappearing, and then he sat down at his desk.

    The familiar chair greeting him, conforming to his misshapen body. Comfortable, he thought. Of course, John could just float, removing the pressures from his body. But there was something about sitting in a chair that felt right, the cushions conforming to his body, not removing the pressure but providing a pleasant softness.

    A customer entered the store, an elf, John noted. Their ears pulled back and covered with their long blonde hair. Tanned skin and brown eyes looking at the rows of bookshelves that greeted them. The elf nodded to John and then went and looked through the books.

    Interesting, John thought, the first customer who didn''t ask him for something specific as soon as they entered. He watched as the elf wandered through the bookshelves, picking out a book and looking through it before putting it back. The elf took their time, looking through every bookshelf John had before they walked back to the first one and grabbed one, bringing it up to John''s desk.

    "I would like to buy this book. You take an interesting story, yes?" The elf asked, placing the book on the desk. It was a fictional tale, a human who stumbled onto a powerful class and shook the world at its roots. Creating structure where there was none, building relationships between the different species and saving the world from some powerful threat. John nodded at the elf.

    "Well, I''m actually an elf. Don''t tell anybody though." The elf said, brushing their hair aside to reveal the ears John had already seen.

    ''I know.'' John wrote.

    The elf was taken aback, "How did you know? What gave it away?" The elf asked, frantic.

    John wasn''t sure how to respond, so he just hoped the elf would have some resistance to telepathy. He remembered the elf walking in to his store, remembered seeing the elf, every separate piece that made up the whole. He pushed the memory through to the elf, satisfied they seemed to have some kind of familiarity with it as they accepted the memory without any visible pain.

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    "Holy shit." The elf responded, shocked at seeing themselves in more detail than they ever had before. "That''s how you see everybody? That''s insane. Alright, well telling you I''m an elf was kind of my plan, honestly. I''m not sure what else I could share that would be interesting. Lets see... Oh! hmm no that wouldn''t be interesting enough. I could tell you about that one time I, no that was boring. Ah!" The elf said, raising a finger in excitement as they seemed to remember a story.

    "So I was walking down the street one day, hiding my ears as I usually do, when I bumped into this girl. At the time I was still very new to this hiding my ears thing so I just had a hat on, a big hat. Anyway when we fell, my hat fell off in the tumble and she saw my ears. I was terrified at what would happen, the secret was out and I was going to have to find a new town to run off to. A new identity, everything. Then she just leans in closer and pulls her hair back a little bit showing that she was also an elf! I mean what are the chances of that? Two elves bumping into each other in the street like that? Absolutely insane to me. I thought it was over for sure!" the elf said, leaning back and chuckling.

    Another customer came in to the store, looking at John. A human girl, a young one.

    The elf looked at her then back at John, "Anyway, is that enough for the book?"

    John nodded and watched the elf take the book and walk out of the store. The girl approached John''s desk, her eyes just able to see over the desk to John.

    "Hi mister, mommy said I shouldn''t come in here because you''re mean and scary but you don''t look mean and scary to me. Are you mean and scary?" The girl asked John.

    He wondered how to respond to the child, telepathy wasn''t an option, there was almost no chance this girl would be able to handle that. Writing however, also didn''t seem like an option, the girl likely couldn''t read. But he would try anyway. ''Where''s mommy?'' John wrote into the air in front of her.

    The girl giggled and tried to touch it, John quickly making the writing dissolve. "What was that? Can you do it again?"

    John shook his head, he supposed the girl couldn''t read after all. He was unsure what to do with the child without some means of communicating. Another reason for him to put forth a serious effort to mimicking speech he supposed. Though he hoped very strongly that children wouldn''t often find themselves lost in his store.

    He extended his awareness outside of the store, the unpleasant smells and sounds reaching him as he did. He looked for somebody who might have lost a child, somebody frantic, maybe calling out a name. He wished he could know the girl''s name, he thought, looking at where the girl had been. She was no longer in front of his desk, he noticed, running through the spacial anomaly he created for the bookshelf next to him while she laughed. No matter, John thought. As long as she was in his store she would be safe.

    He took a moment to lock his door and block off the windows with a portal, anything entering it would be turned around. Confident the girl would be trapped within his store and nobody else could enter, he continued his search for the parent. It took a few more minutes, but he found two people looking for a daughter, both a few streets away from each other and his store. He watched them both as they asked people passing by if they''ve seen a young girl matching the description of the girl he had in his store.

    Confident he found her parents, he teleported the both of them into his store in front of him. They both screamed as their surroundings changed, and then screamed again as they saw John. And then yet again when they saw the girl, but one of excitement and relief. The parents rushed at the girl, hugging her, neither taking their eyes off John. They picked up the girl and headed to the door, trying to open it, their hands shaking as they fiddled with the doorknob. John teleported them outside, then unlocked the door and removed the portals in the windows.

    Not even a thank you, John thought. The girl had been safe, he found the parents, brought them to the girl immediately and the response was fear. He wasn''t sure what he could have done differently, to make them not afraid. He could have walked out and found the parents instead of teleporting them in, but that would''ve meant leaving the girl alone without supervision. And it would''ve just prolonged the time until they were returned together. He could have brought the girl to the parents but they weren''t together anyway. The girl herself at least seemed to be nice, maybe she would grow up and treat others with more respect.

    He wondered if there was anything he could do now to reconcile it. Could he chase them down and say he wasn''t mean? That would just scare them, he was confident of at least that. A part of him thought about disguising himself as human as the elf did, but it was again pushed aside.

    He was John, and he would stay John. People would just have to learn that he wasn''t here to hurt them. Perhaps being able to speak would help with these situations, being able to talk to the child may have given him more information that he could have used to calm down the parents. Being able to speak to the parents would have maybe let him show that he didn''t mean them harm.

    He thought about writing to them, but any movement he made caused them to twitch, let alone if he were to be casting spells so freely. He vowed to take his speech practice more seriously from now on. Even if it didn''t matter to him, to the people he was here to meet it mattered a lot.

 7. Johns Windows

    John sat in his chair, thinking about his options. He would accept that learning to speak was a higher priority than he at first thought, but it was still a topic that couldn''t be resolved in a day. Perhaps he could isolate himself and focus only on mimicking speech for a few weeks or months, come up with something passable.

    But that wasn''t his goal here, he wanted to learn of the people, of the things they did and the struggles they had. He already spent some time alone until just earlier that day, to go and dump another unknown quantity of time was unproductive. It would ruin him. He needed to learn to speak, but he needed to be around people at the same time.

    So instead, John decided to go for a walk down the street, wandering aimlessly as he paid attention to all the people around, with close attention on how they were speaking. One thing John noticed was that the muscles were vibrating far faster than he had when he first tried. The vibrations of the muscles themselves also weren''t producing any wind, or force themselves. At least not much, they were just there to restrict the air being pushed out by the lungs.

    The air seemed to almost build up then squeeze through in a single forceful push before the muscles retracted again, and the whole cycle repeated. It was a careful, precise system where the muscles had to be blocking the air but only by enough that the air would break through almost instantly, hundreds of times per second in some cases. The muscles were pulled taught when people were excited, their voice reaching higher, the muscles vibrating more intensely. These blasts of air were then sent through the mouth where they would be shaped into sounds that were recognized as speech.

    The process in the mouth was confusing, though. John could see what was happening, could see the position of the tongues and the lips, the cheeks, and jawbone. He could see it all but he couldn''t figure out a pattern. Something was happening there that took the regular puffs and converted it to speech, but it wasn''t obvious.

    The creation of sound was, however. He could clearly see what he had done wrong, and he wished he only paid closer attention at another point, creating a sound may not have been as complicated as he thought. On his walk he had planned to maybe stop by a store and buy some windows, but an excitement grew within him. The possibility of speech, as inefficient as it was, consumed his focus. It wasn''t about being efficient or proper, about meeting some expectations by others. It was a challenge he set out to solve, and he could see progress being made.

    The familiar stone walls surrounded John as he vanished from the street, teleporting back to his building. He focused on a section of space in front of him, working to mimic the muscles he saw while walking around. He built up walls to keep the air in, and added a couple of flaps in space that would get pushed aside as he forced air through them.

    Then he started to compress the air into it, and the flaps he created began to vibrate as the air broke through them. At first very slowly, as he was unsure how much to press. The air pushed through in bursts, puffs of air almost unnoticeable coming out the other side. He pushed more and more air through it, watching as the vibrations got more intense, opening and closing about a hundred times every second. The sound audible at this point, a low hum resounding through his store.

    John almost screamed in excitement, were it not for the fact that he couldn''t scream at all. He jumped around, dancing through his store amazed at his progress. It was so simple, he realized. All he had to do was look at what was happening and recreate it. He was so upset at himself for not trying it earlier, too proud of himself to stoop to these creatures'' level. To recognize them as being superior in some way.

    And yet, they were. They could speak so easily, so naturally. For him it was a conscious effort, something he had to try and create. And even still all he had was a buzz, a hum. He could produce noise, not speech. And yet, he was proud, ecstatic even. If somebody knew morse code, he could communicate with sound. He supposed he could have done that already by tapping on the floor or his desk, but now he can produce the sound with his magic. It could be simplified, he knew. But he wasn''t sure how, and also wasn''t sure it was necessary. If this worked, then why would he push it more?

    He created his spacial voice box once more, but this time he made another section in front of the flaps, something to capture that buzz and shape it into a sound. He worked to create something that mimicked the inside of a human mouth. The specifics of how the mouth made speech was lost on him, but the actual shape of the mouth was not. An entire mouth was created in front of the voice box, all invisible to the naked eye, he opened the mouth and pushed air through the voice box. It almost sounded like an ''o'' sound, maybe an ''a'' sound. But it was a voice, a letter, maybe. He would have to watch people speak more and remember the specifics of how their mouths were shaped to make the sounds, but he was close. He could feel it, he had something that would work if he just spent some time fiddling with it.

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    John sat down at his desk again, manipulating his space mouth and trying to make various sounds with it. He felt confident on producing the vowels but the consonants provided issue. Some in particular he just couldn''t create at all no matter what he tried, the vibrations from his voice box just seeming to never quite create a ''p'' sound no matter what he did, among others.

    But he would figure it out, in time. It was high on his priority list now, to pay close attention to the way people spoke with him when they came in. But he needed a break, the constant excitement was doing nothing for his progress. He would figure it out in time, but for now he wanted windows. John thought about watching the people in town as he walked down to the store, but there was something exciting about figuring out the rest of the puzzle from the customers that came in his store. Something felt rewarding about having each customer maybe be the final key to the puzzle. So he ignored them, making his way down to the furniture store he frequented.

    It was a different person working today, an older lady with short gray hair and a brown dress. She greeted John as soon as he walked in, "Hello, I''ve been told of you. I''d prefer if you kept the telepathy to a minimum please, it''s rather painful for me."

    John nodded his head, not wanting to annoy the poor lady, and gestured to the windows nearby.

    "You''re shopping for windows?" The lady asked. John nodded his head. "Well, typically the windows are made to order. Glass is expensive and we don''t just keep it lying around. Do you know the dimensions of what you need filled? It would be best if we could come see what you need, even, if that''s alright?"

    John nodded his head, and thought about teleporting her to the store, but remembered the distaste the parents of the child had to being suddenly teleported. The lady already seemed averse to some of his powers, it wouldn''t do to subject her to teleportation without consent either. ''Teleportation?'' he wrote.

    "I can not teleport no, but these old bones will make the walk anyway." She said, walking to the door.

    John shook his head and pointed at himself and then her.

    "Oh, are you asking if you can teleport the both of us, perhaps?" She asked, receiving a nod from John in return. "Well sure, as long as it''s still in town and you don''t have one of those weird teleports with ill side effects."

    John teleported the both of them to the inside of his shop, the lady looking around when they arrived. "Rather convenient that, isn''t it? Why do you walk around when you could just arrive wherever you want immediately?" The lady questioned, looking at John.

    ''Boring'' John wrote.

    "I understand, there''s something that just feels right about doing things the hard way sometimes. Even if magic can make it easier. It would sure be nice to have it available when I want it though, if I weren''t so old I might think about a new class. I suppose these are where you want your windows?" She said, pointing towards the empty holes in his walls. John nodded.

    It was always interesting, John though, to know these humans could just take another class at will. John was never given an option in the first place, apparently he already had the "best" class and shouldn''t be upset about it. But he always disagreed on what "best" really meant, sure they might have the most powerful skills but that was just one definition.

    He wondered what would happen if a human were to live as long as he had, accumulating achievements and power, patiently biding their time as they continued increasing the power of their classes. Would they ever reach his power? Or even exceed it? He never had the opportunity to grow, from a numbers perspective anyway. He reminded himself that his recent progress on creating speech showed that there was more to skills than meets the eye.

    "Well, these are pretty big windows so it will cost you a pretty penny. But I''ve heard that you don''t seem bothered by the cost of things anyway. This is our selection of frames and glass, though if you want something more specialized you can always speak with our manager." The lady said, pulling out some small samples of glass and various materials that would frame it. Wood and stone frames mostly, of varying colours and textures. Paired with glass of different translucency and colours, some perfectly clear and almost invisible on his desk, while others almost impossible to see through.

    John thought about what the final building might look like, what material it might be made out of. He rather liked the white stone that was used in the more expensive districts and thought he might go with that. Or perhaps a lighter wood to match his lights. Regardless, a darker frame made more sense and he picked out a darker stone. Slate, the lady called it. For the glass, John wanted it to be clear that glass was present, but not disturb the visibility inside, so he picked a clear glass with mild imperfections littered throughout it.

    "Sure thing, John, I assume? We can have this delivered here by next week. It will cost you fifty gold pieces right now, plus another ten for labour that you can pay after it has been installed." The lady said, putting away her display of window components.

    John summoned sixty gold coins, the cost not mattering enough to him to worry about paying them later.

    "All upfront then, I see they were right about you. Thank you very much John, I hope you enjoy your window. And uhh, if it''s not too much to ask could I get a lift back to the furniture store?"

    John nodded and teleported her back to her store. He looked at his windows, imagining the windows he selected filling them up. He quite liked the image, he thought, and was excited for next week when he could see them for real.

 8. Johns Fish

    John was wandering through his bookstore, looking at the assortment of books he had out. He had never really done so, before, just pushing random books out into the bookshelves without a care but as he wandered around he was realizing that perhaps the people here wouldn''t be able to read many of these languages. It was a good thing that most of the people who came in asked for specific things and John was able to help them, or he feared they may have just left his store without finding anything of value. A story lost to an inability to plan.

    He replaced the majority of the books he found with ones written in the most common language people spoke here. A few were left of other languages ¡ª Elvish, Dwarvish and a couple other lesser known races'' languages. And a few still left of languages he thought nobody on this planet could speak, or at least very few. Something to show his customers that there was more than meets the eye here, something to inspire them to ask John about it, to bring them to his desk and initiate a conversation.

    This was a process he could''ve done from his desk, of course. A wave of his hand replacing all of the books almost instantly with ones that would be more fitting to the area. But there was something satisfying about doing it by hand, John found. The more time he spent here, around these people and watching them live their lives the more appreciation he had for the little things.

    He would live forever, there was no rush to have it done right now. This way he got to appreciate each book he found. Most he couldn''t even remember when or where he got ahold of them, just more matter to hoard as he traveled the universe. A shame, John thought. He wished he had taken more time to appreciate every world he visited, every item he hoarded. The meaning lost on him now as he wondered whether a book came from this planet or some other.

    The door opened, as a man walked in. Red hair tied up neatly behind his head, a well fitted green suit framing his body. The man walked with finesse and confidence, striding into John''s store and smiling at him.

    "Hey John, how''ve you been?" The man asked. John was confused, pleased with another to care for him, but confused with who the man might be. The man chuckled to himself as he walked up to John.

    "I was here a few years ago, though I was in much worse shape than I am now. Torn clothes, smelling of death and wishing for nothing but to learn to read. I''m not surprised you don''t remember me, but I certainly remember you." The man said.

    John thought about what he said, thinking to the customers he had. One did meet the description, and he built up a memory of a customer who bought the children''s book about a rabbit exploring a field, sending it through to the man. The man''s only reaction his smile widening.

    "You do remember me! Oh this is great news. I had come by a few days later for another book and you were closed. I came back every few days after for a while, a couple of months. I visited other bookstores in the meantime, none of which very nice to me at the time." The man scoffed, "Their loss, really. I learned to read and ended up working in a tavern for a little while. I took the little money I made and started traveling around. Buying goods from one place and moving to the next to sell and repeat. The lessons I learned living as a bandit''s slave kept me alive, I think. Knowing how they operated, what morals they were willing to bend and what they weren''t. The fears they had, and what would make them push past it. Everybody''s different of course, but I knew how to travel through the wilds, knew how to avoid the stronger monsters'' habitats.

    "And when I was attacked, I knew how to keep myself alive. I became quite successful as a result, rather quickly even, as I''m sure you can see." The man said, raising his arms and twirling around in place, laughing. John nodded his head.

    "And I always think back to you. You didn''t do much, really. But you listened, you heard my story, and you appreciated it enough to even give me something in return. You valued me, and the troubles I faced. It made me feel human again, it made me feel like I had a place in this world. As though no matter what happened, I mattered at least as much as a children''s book." He chuckled. "It''s sad, isn''t it? That I was so uplifted by feeling like I was worth as much as a few pieces of paper meant for kids. But I was. Everybody else threw me out of their store, calling me dirty and worthless." The man summoned a book to his hand, the same one of a rabbit that he bought but worn with use and time.

    "I still carry it with me everywhere I go. A reminder that even at my worst, my voice would still be heard." The man looked at the book, with some emotion John couldn''t understand, before it vanished.

    John was pleased with the man''s story, his goal with the bookstore was never supposed to be about helping people. But now two people have come in once more, talking about how much they appreciated him. From John''s perspective, all he did was sell them books. But from their perspective that alone was meaningful enough to change their lives in some small way. Or perhaps large way, as he looked at the man in front of him. If he could do some good by selling books, then it would only make his bookstore more interesting John felt.

    "Well I suppose I will find another book and share with you another story then." The man said, beginning to wander through the bookshelves looking at books.

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    John walked back to his desk and sat down, glad the man had taken the initiative to remove himself. These situations were challenging for John, for as happy as he was to know the man appreciated him, John also had no idea what the proper response to that was supposed to be. He was much more comfortable listening to their stories and contemplating it in silence afterwards.

    The man grabbed one of the books from the shelf and looked through it. Various pictures of creatures even John had never seen paired with descriptions of them in a language from some other planet. It was one of the few books John left to inspire intrigue, and it was working, John thought. He was glad he did it. The man placed the book on the desk and asked, "What language is this?"

    ''Unsure'' John wrote, regretting once more not paying more attention to where his hoard was acquired.

    The man laughed once more. "Well, I''ll take this one then. At the very least I''m sure somebody will pay a pretty penny for the gibberish. You need a story for it, right?"

    John was satisfied with what the man had already talked about, but it felt like the man wanted to share more, so John just nodded his head.

    "Right, well have I got the doozy for you this time, my friend. So I had just left this coastal town way up north, my carriage filled with plenty of the local specialties. Fish and salt, mostly. Though there was some jewelry made of the shells found along the beach, some clothing. Fascinating really, the nobles inland pay an incredible premium for clothes worn by commoners all along the coast. Traveling around and seeing so many different cities and people has been a great experience. I can see why you take stories as payment.

    "Anyway, so my carriage is filled with fish and salt, and when you''re taking fish inland you''ve gotta be careful. Otherwise you''re left with rotting fish and a broken enchantment you spent a pretty penny on. So I''m taking the safe roads, sticking to what I know. And the weeks pass in safety, the fish preserved perfectly with the enchantments, just a few days out from the town I''m heading to. When suddenly a bear ¡ª a bear, of all things, charges my carriage. Not some monster or unknown horror, just a bear. Honestly I''m not even sure if it saw my carriage or if it was just running blindly through the forest, it seemed so confused after it hit my carriage and then ran off again. I mean, a bear, really? It didn''t even attack my horse, it just rammed my carriage and then ran off.

    "So my carriage is knocked over, and I''m checking on the enchantments. Broken, all of them. The salt had spilled all over the fish, just absolutely covering it in a ridiculous quantity of salt. I wanted to cry, honestly. I had expected to be hunted by bandits, or by some terrible monster. But to be done in so horribly by a bear? I had money saved up in safety, it wasn''t the end of the world. But it was just a bear! If I had slightly stronger classes I could''ve just yelled at it and it would''ve run off. I mean, a bear!

    "Right, so I figured I might be close enough to get to town and maybe salvage some of the stuff. The fish was gone, almost definitely. Covered in salt and with no preservation enchantments to keep it. But the clothes still seemed okay, the jewelry was okay and some of the salt lived. It was salvageable. I do what I can to fix my carriage, yanking it back up and hammering some spare planks on it to keep it at least somewhat sturdy. The roof was fucked though, and I almost thought about throwing the fish out, but had some na?ve hope that it might survive the trip and maybe I could sell it as dog food or something.

    "But get this, when I got there, the fish was fine! It didn''t even smell bad at all like fish normally does after a few days in the sun. It was dry, incredibly dry. And it just felt salty, but it kinda seemed okay? So I cooked some of it up just to try it, and it tasted fine. Really really salty, but not like bad fish. Just salty. So I got my carriage fixed and the enchantment reapplied, then filled up a barrel with some water and let a piece of the fish sit in it for a few hours while I sold my goods.

    "And get this, when I came back the fish was almost back to normal! It looked like fish, like normal fish. A little discoloured, the texture was a little bit off, but it didn''t smell worse than normal fish. So I tried it again and it tasted really good actually. I was confident I was on to something here but I mean, I can''t go selling bad fish if it''s bad fish right? So I kept it to myself for a little while. A couple of months and almost all I ate was this weird dried fish, and I never got sick off of it. I did some more tests with it, keeping it in the enchantments or outside of the enchantments. Tested out making it, how much salt was actually needed, was the sunny day needed. Or was it just the sunny day that did it and not the salt.

    "Actually if you can believe it, if the sun''s hot enough you can do almost the same thing without the salt. Crazy, I know. So I started to sell it and one thing leads to another, now I''m almost exclusively a fish merchant. Not what I expected but it''s working out really great for me. I don''t need the enchantments anymore which is a huge cost reduction. The fish is cheaper, lasts longer, and is easier to transport inland. I''ve completely revolutionized how the trade of fish works, and it''s all because of one stupid bear that knocked over my carriage. I swear if I see that bear I''m going to give it the best meal it''s ever seen."

    The man finished his story, laughing. "I mean really, a bear attacks me and now I''m filthy rich. What are the chances really? Anyway that''s my story, is that good enough for the book?" John nodded his head in response.

    "That''s great, thanks again for the book. See you around pal." The man said, the book vanishing as he headed out the door.

    John thought about his story. The man had called John his friend. Were they friends, John wondered? They had seen each other twice. Perhaps it''s a figure of speech, but John found himself pleased with the idea. Seeing the same person again and seeing how they changed was interesting.

    The man had been so distraught before, so broken down. And yet he seemed so happy now. All in such a short span of time, truly incredible, John thought. He hoped to see some of his other customers again someday, see how they changed, how the books they chose affected their lives.

    He wondered about the elf that had come in, were they still keeping themselves hidden, or had they been discovered and moved on to some other town in another identity? The vampire girl was looking for a powerful class and John wondered what happened with that. Had she found a class to fit her or was she still looking, years later? John wasn''t even sure how many years. Next time he takes a break, he decided he would be sure to keep track of that.

 9. Johns Frustration

    John had paid attention this time, as his customer was speaking. The story was certainly interesting, and John looked forward to seeing the dried fish fill the markets soon. Maybe he would take a walk down the street and look at it soon even. A reminder of his customer every time he saw it. But no, what was most interesting was how the customer spoke.

    Many of the sounds the man made were not produced from the muscles in the neck but instead from a similar type of mechanism formed with the lips or tongue. The letter produced from air that pushed through the restrictions imposed on it in the mouth, not the neck. A ''p'' sound coming from air breaking through the lips, while a ''t'' came from air breaking through the tongue. An ''m'' was formed with close lips while the neck muscles vibrated, while ''n'' was the same but with the lips open and the tongue restricting the flow. The letter ''s'' came from pushing air through a small hole formed with both the tongue and lips. And the letter ''k'' was formed similarly to ''t'' but with the tongue restricting the air flow much further back in the mouth.

    The letters ''b'' and ''d'' confused John. They seemed almost identical to ''p'' and ''d'' respectively, and yet there was something else happening that he couldn''t quite place. Something that made John identify them as different letters. They were close enough anyway, and John was pleased with what he had learned, so set out to work on it once more.

    He formed the spacial voice box and mouth he was used to now, and worked on practicing his new letters. These ones weren''t a constant vibration like the muscle in the neck, the air blasting through only once before the rest of the word continued as normal. It was a bit tricky to get it working, being so used to the rapid oscillations of the other muscle, but with a bit of trial and error he got something working.

    There were still a few letters that John struggled with, a few sounds that he couldn''t quite figure out just yet. Some that he could make work sometimes but not every time, but he had something now. And he was excited for his next customer to try it out with.

    It didn''t take long for another person to come into John''s store, the door opening less than an hour after he finished with his day''s practice. He fiddled with it a little more but there was nothing like putting it into practice to figure things out, John felt.

    A human girl walked into John''s store, her light brown hair resting at her shoulders, framing her tanned, scarred face. She wore well used but maintained metal armour with leather straps holding the various pieces together. Some thin, well fitted dark clothes sitting below and leather gloves covering her hands. A scabbard hanging off her waist, rocking as she walked in the store. Two more men were waiting outside, dressed in a similar garb.

    John formed the now familiar spacial structure as he prepared to speak. The woman''s hand rushing to the sword at her waist as he did.

    "Stand down." The woman said, and John obliged, his magic fading away. He wasn''t sure why she would need him to not speak but she must have her reasons.

    "We have been allowing you to stay here despite numerous disruptions to our town, but a kidnapping has forced our hand. I must ask you to come with us for questioning." The woman said, her hand still resting on her sword.

    John was confused, to say the least. He had been nothing but kind, he felt. He helped the people who came by, gave them books, listened to their stories. He certainly never kidnapped anybody. Sure, at times he may have felt like killing people but these were fantasies, things he recognized as harmful, things he would never do. And kidnapping was never one of them. What use would he have for a child? He can''t eat them even if he wanted to, and even if he could eat them it''s not as though they would provide any meaningful sustenance. The power contained within one was hardly of worth to John, useless for any kind of rituals.

    He didn''t understand. And he sent this confusion, this desire to understand through to the woman. She flinched back in pain and drew her sword.

    "Sir I said stand down. If you attack me again I will have no choice but to use lethal force." The woman said, sword pointed at John.

    This was beginning to be frustrating for John. He thought about just killing the woman. It would be so easy, he thought. Just erase her from space, be rid of this pest once and for all. But he couldn''t stay here if he did that, and he liked it here.

    John nodded his head, resigned to his fate. He would do what he could to maintain his presence here and if it didn''t work, he could just release his frustrations on this lady and go find another place to set up his shop. Maybe it was time to go learn about another planet''s people anyway.

    The woman lead John down the street towards the center of town. People staring at John even more than normal as he was surrounded by guards being paraded through the streets. They spoke in whispers, thinking he couldn''t hear the terrible things they said about him.

    He just wanted to sell people books, John thought. He wanted to set up a nice little shop and talk to all his customers who came through, learning about who they were and what they''ve done. And in return he''d get to give out books, his collection making its way back into the universe piece by piece. He didn''t understand why it had to be so challenging, so difficult. Why he had to put up with so much vitriol to do it.

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    But John was nothing if not patient, the years would pass and people would forget. As long as he could clear up this kidnapping thing, his life would go back to normal eventually.

    The woman led John inside a large stone building, ''Courthouse'' written in wooden lettering above the front of it. A clerk sat at a desk inside, eyeing the group as they walked into the back, dropping john off in a small room with metal bars blocking his passage. They closed the door and locked it.

    "Wait here until we have time to question you." The woman said, before walking away.

    John wondered why they would bring him here just to tell him to wait. They were the ones who wanted to question him, why should he have to wait?

    A few minutes passed as John sat in the room, wondering how long they would be. Surely if they brought him here now to question him, it would be soon, right? An hour passed, and still nothing. Nobody coming to his door, nobody apologizing for the wait.

    John didn''t see the point in waiting any longer so he left, appearing back in his bookstore. When they were ready, they could come and get him. To force him down to the courthouse just to make him wait until they were ready? Offensive, John thought.He sat at his desk for another couple hours, practicing his speech. He was getting pretty good at it even, he thought.

    His practice was interrupted by his door being kicked down, thrust into the store, smashing into his bookshelves and knocking over the books. A dozen armed guards running into his store, lead by the same woman he saw earlier. More still waiting outside his store, surrounding it.

    "Sir, I don''t know how you escaped or why in the hells you chose to come back to your bookstore when you did. But you are hereby under arrest. Do not resist or we will have no choice but to use force." The woman said, nodding to one of the guards.

    A man with thick iron chains approached John, struggling to secure his limbs with cuffs. John helped out a little bit, extending the space around the cuffs so they would fit a little bit better. He had nothing against people just doing their job, but the woman who broke his door down and damaged his store would not get off so easily.

    "Follow me to the courthouse, again. And this time you will not be escaping." The woman said, leaving the building.

    John was tired of being stared at on the street, and this larger, almost army sent to capture him would not make that any better. To hell with the consequences, John thought. He had been nothing but kind and respectful in his time here. And if the people in charge couldn''t understand that, it was their problem.

    Instead of making the long, shameful walk back to the courthouse he simply teleported the entire group to inside it. Many of the people ending up in his caged room with him. Most falling to the ground or running to the corner in fear.

    "What the hell did you just do?" The woman asked.

    The woman pressed her sword up against his neck, stopping John as he tried to write in the air. "You will not be casting magic. Stand down, this is your final warning." The woman said, almost spitting her words out at John.

    John focused on the space around the woman, gripping it with his mind and moving her away. He could see her struggling against the force but didn''t care. This had gone too far, and he had every right to be able to communicate his side.

    ''Teleported. Didn''t want to walk.'' John wrote in the air, the woman''s eyes going wide with fear as the black writing appeared in the air. He released the woman who screamed at him and ran at him with her sword.

    John merely pushed her back again and extended his awareness to cover the courthouse. Looking for somebody important, somebody powerful. He saw somebody in a room upstairs, filling out paperwork. Several people running towards the room and talking about the sudden arrival of a few dozen people.

    This was the person, John thought. He teleported to the man''s room, appearing in front of him. The man''s eyes widened as he stood up.

    "Who are you?" The man asked.

    ''John'' John wrote.

    "Ah, you''re the creature we''re supposed to be arresting for escaping prison. I see." The man sighed, and sat back down. "I frankly don''t get it. You could kill all of us on a whim and you haven''t, even after you''ve been treated so poorly. But the higher ups are calling for your arrest so we have no choice. Apparently some noble child went missing recently, and she was last seen in your shop. I don''t suppose you know where she is?"

    John thought about the child who was in his store recently. He thought he found her parents, but he didn''t really verify that either. Or perhaps she got lost again immediately afterwards, if those were her parents they weren''t very careful with her. He sent an image of the girl to the man, as a question.

    "Ah, yes. That''s the girl. She was kidnapped very recently. The current theory is that you ate her. Did you eat her?" The man asked, smiling as John shook his head. "I didn''t think you would. We would''ve had a lot more disappearances if you were going around eating children. She belongs to a noble family here, and they won''t rest without either your death or their child returned. You wouldn''t happen to know where she is would you?"

    John shook his head, but wrote ''Find'' in the air.

    "You can find her?" The man asked, as John nodded his head.

    His awareness spread, covering the entire town. He could see every single person, every family living their lives. Some people were cooking, some were sleeping. Others still playing some kind of game in their yard. But the child, and the people he found was nowhere. He extended his awareness further out, covering the forest and land nearby. Mountains, caverns and forest filling his mind. Monsters prowling their lands, stalking their prey. Creatures far beneath the earth, resting in a near eternal slumber. But still he could not find the child.

    Even further still, nearby cities and rivers reaching his mind, but nothing. It wasn''t until he was nearly a quarter of the way around the planet that he found the girl, further than he expected any humans could travel in that time frame. Curious, he thought. He was so sure they were humans.

    The girl was working in a mine, hands covered in blisters as she smiled and giggled between coughs. Other people, of various ages were in the same mine, digging deeper and deeper. They all seemed so happy, despite their injuries.

    John teleported the girl to him, the man reacting as soon as she appeared.

    "Well that was certainly easy. She seems to be under some kind of spell, we''ll need to get a healer in here. But everything should be good now that we have her, I''m sorry for the interruption." The man said. John nodded his head, and teleported back to his store.

 10. Johns Patience

    John looked around his store, seeing the destruction. His door laying in the middle of the building, on top of and partially inside of a bookshelf it smashed through. Several of the other bookshelves had toppled over with it, books splayed out on the floor. Some of the books were torn, rent apart from the force.

    He was furious. John had done nothing wrong, a child came into his shop. The child wasn''t his responsibility. He did what he could to help her and let her on her merry way. Sure, they weren''t the girl''s real parents, perhaps. But was he supposed to interrogate every single parent of every single child he saw? Was he supposed to rip every child he saw from the people they were with and bring them to the guards for questioning?

    It wasn''t John''s fault that the girl was kidnapped. He had no means of knowing, his mastery was that of space not the mind. A part of him wanted to destroy the town, erase it from existence and all those who inhabited it. But he knew that most were innocent. He would regret that afterwards.

    John calmed himself down and teleported back to the man he spoke with previously. He was out of his office now, walking through the courthouse with the woman who had accosted him. When John arrived, he pushed the memory of his store''s destruction to the man and woman, both reeling in pain from the surge of emotions.

    The man looked at the woman. "I told you to be gentle. Why did you smash his door through his merchandise?" The man asked, a hint of fury betraying his calm exterior.

    "He escaped prison. We arrested him and he just left, back to go run his silly bookstore." The woman said.

    "Did you tell John that he wasn''t allowed to leave when you brought him here?" The man asked her.

    "Did I tell him he couldn''t leave?" She scoffed. "No. Of course not. I locked him in a fucking cell. Of course he''s not allowed to leave. He was in jail. I told him to wait, and he fucking left. Escaped. In what universe am I supposed to be gentle to an escapee? If he didn''t want his stupid store destroyed he should have sat down and behaved himself." The woman said, seething with rage.

    The man sighed, and turned to John, "Were you aware that you were in prison, and that it was illegal to leave?"

    John shook his head. A prison, he thought? Those flimsy metal bars?

    "What the hell did you think it was?" The girl screamed.

    ''Strange design?'' John wrote.

    The man laughed, putting his hand on the woman''s shoulder as he turned to look at her, "See? You weren''t clear about the terms. John here didn''t escape, he left. There''s a difference. I told you to be gentle, I told you to be clear what was happening. You were neither. Return to my office, we will discuss your punishment later."

    The woman nodded her head and left, walking back towards the stairs.

    "I''m deeply sorry for the damages she caused to your store. I know you had an eccentric product line so I''m not sure if we can replace the books, but we can replace the bookshelves and the door at least. As well as a monetary reimbursement for the damaged books." The man said, turning back to john after the woman was out of earshot.

    John thought about it. What was he really upset about anyway? He had a few more of the bookshelves, and they were hardly expensive. He would have to buy a new door but that wouldn''t be expensive either. All of the runes on it were done by him anyway so he could replace those. He had a veritable wealth of books to replace the damaged ones with. He wasn''t even sure which ones were damaged yet anyway.

    He was upset that it happened. More upset than he thought he could be, even. But the result of what happened wasn''t all that bad, if he were to have instead worked to fix it instead of come here it would already be resolved. And yet, he didn''t feel like that would quell his anger. The rage he felt about what was done.

    Did he want revenge? To cause the woman harm? He did, if he was being honest. He wanted to rip her limb from limb and throw her pieces into the depths of space. But would that make him feel better? Probably not. So what did he want, John wondered.

    ''Its fine'' John wrote.

    "Are you sure? We would be more than happy to make reparations. It was our own wrongdoing that thrust this upon you, after all." The man said.

    John pushed through the confusion he felt about the situation. His inability to understand what he wanted, or how to process the pain he felt. The complete lack of impact anything they could buy him would have to his finances.

    "Ah. Well in that case I thank you for your generosity and patience. And I deeply apologize for the pain we''ve caused you. Rest assured she will not be let off easy for this."

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    John teleported back to his bookstore, expecting to feel disappointment and rage again. But he was greeted with a familiar face, a young girl with skin white as snow and eyes red as... something red.

    "Dude what happened here? Are you alright?" The half vampire asked as he arrived.

    John looked at the girl, she hadn''t aged a day and yet felt more confident. More sure of herself, power radiating from her, almost seeming to freeze the air in his store. She must have found a class she liked, John thought.

    He formed his spacial voice box, excited to speak with somebody for the first time, "Arrested, apparently." John spoke.

    The girl tilted her head and looked to John''s side where he was manipulating space, "You can talk now! I think I can handle the telepathy now though if that''s easier. Wait, arrested? What do you mean? What happened?"

    John formed the memory of his arrest, from when the woman first arrived to when he teleported back here and saw the girl again. Worried about a repeat of last time, he removed a lot of the unnecessary frill, keeping it to a simple outline. He pushed it through to the girl.

    "Ahhh. So some noble brat ran away and you got screwed by it, eh? That sucks man. But you''re good now right? Off the hook?" She asked, pleased when John nodded, "Great! So I need a book about nearby dungeons. I think I''m just about ready for my 124 evolution but I want a three hundred solo kill first. Got any books that might have info on that?"

    Level 124 already, John thought. He wasn''t sure how long it had been anyway, though. A few years according to the merchant he spoke with but that could be two or it could be five. John wasn''t sure. He supposed he could ask the girl, but it wasn''t all that important anyway.

    He waved his hand, the bookshelves standing back up, books floating to their spot. More books flew out from around John to fill the bookshelf he kept next to his desk. He hoped one might have what the girl was looking for, feeling a fondness for her. A familiarity. And more than a little hope he may one day visit her universe.

    The girl browsed through the bookshelf, reading through books about monsters and dungeons that might suit her needs. One in particular she seemed to linger on, bringing it up to John''s desk. It was about a frigid dungeon nearby called The Frostbitten Dwelling.

    "This one seems good. It fits with the whole cold thing I have going on already. Overcome some big bad cold dude and become even more big bad cold queen? Maybe?" She said, giggling. "So still just one story for the book, right?"

    John nodded his head.

    "Right. Well I don''t know if this is interesting or not, but I told you about computers forever ago, remember? You could play games on them too, not just watch things. You''d use the keyboard/mouse thing I told you about, I think? They plugged into the computer and you could push buttons on them, which would tell the computer to do different things.

    "Well, video games were like movies except you could interact with them, moving a character around, making it do things. And then the computer would control the other characters. I think I talked about them before, not sure. But it''s like this world except I would be sitting in my room at my computer pressing buttons to make me move, and the computer would be controlling you and everything else to react to what I did.

    "One of the games I played released a new boss a while before I got yoinked into this world, and I was spending hours every single day trying to kill it. For weeks, man. Just awful. I don''t know why but something about that one was just too much for me. I never did kill it in the end, finding myself here in the forest one day after getting too frustrated with it.

    "But I''ve been thinking recently about how, I dunno, ironic that is, I guess? Cause at the time I felt like that was a huge amount of time I wasted dying over and over to this boss. Weeks of my life gone, with nothing to show for it. And then hours later I''m immortal and my sense of time is completely changed. What''s a few weeks when I''ll live forever? I just think it''s cool how quick that changes for somebody."

    John nodded his head, satisfied with the story. The girl picked up the book from the desk, "Thanks again for all the books John, I''ll see you around!" She said, heading out the empty doorframe.

    Her story had strange implications for John. She compared the world to video games again. Last time, John didn''t know what video games were well enough to understand. But this time he had memories of seeing the girl''s room, or what he thought was her room anyway. And she explained what they were better.

    In the girl''s world, his entire existence could be summed up as a video game, a form of entertainment available en masse. Toyed with. It raised the question of what this world was, if it was real or simply a video game the girl got pulled into.

    John had memories of almost the entire existence of this universe, but could those have been inserted into him, as he has done to others? It didn''t feel like it, but John wasn''t an expert mind mage, this wasn''t something he could be sure of anymore.

    He could access the girl''s world, or he could have at least, at one point. It was palpable, and the memory of it would haunt him until he found another way there. So at the very least, even if this world was just a video game then it was just as real as the world the girl came from. Otherwise, how could he have exited.

    But then, he realized, he never did exit. He only saw the ability to. Could that have been faked? Just to trick him into believing he was real? And even if this place was just as real as where the girl came from, who''s to say that there isn''t yet another universe in which the girl''s home is a mere video game, and she was a character playing a video game?

    There would be no end to it, no conclusion. No matter how high you go there would always be the possibility that all of it was just a simulation of some even higher power.

    Did it matter, John wondered. Did this change anything for him? No, he thought. He was as real as he always had been. He ran a bookstore, he met interesting people and learned interesting stories. It didn''t matter if there was another world above his, controlling his every action. To John, he acted on his own will. Made his own decisions, and that was that. It was interesting to see a new possibility, however haunting it may be though. And seeing the girl worry about him helped reconcile some of the pain he felt earlier. A pleasant end to the day, John thought.

 11. Johns Door

    John had spoken, only moments ago. He had put together words during practice before, but he actually spoke. He said something, to a person. And they understood him and responded. Mind you, they responded by saying telepathy was ok, but that was besides the point. He had spoken to somebody. With his voice! It was exciting.

    The excitement was diluted as he looked around at his still damaged store. He had picked up the bookshelves and placed books where they were supposed to go in a hurry for his customer, but he didn''t fix anything. Bookshelves were still scratched or bent, the books themselves had some tears. The anger he felt had subsided, more of a disappointment now. At having to deal with this mess that shouldn''t have come about at all.

    But, this was his store. And he couldn''t sit about moping all day, so he waved his hand and pulled all of the furniture towards him, books included. Everything vanished as it got close to him, leaving him with an empty building, barring the desk, chair and bookshelf he kept next to him. It was far enough away thanks to the added distance his spacial manipulation added to not get caught in the mayhem.

    Walking around the store, he pulled out newer bookshelves, placing them down where the old ones were. He bought extras as he didn''t know how many he would need, but if these were destroyed as well he would need to go buy more. Hopefully they would survive longer, though.

    The lights he bought seemed to survive just fine, having been placed outside of the domino bookshelves rather than in between, and he put them back where they were. He waved his hand, putting all of the same books back where they were before.

    John decided he would take the time to walk around and examine each book himself, replacing it if it was too damaged. Maybe he would see if there was a way to repair books, they were just paper, it shouldn''t be too outlandish, he thought.

    It was a time consuming process, he found. Pulling off each book, one by one, flipping through the pages to check for rips or missing pages and then either putting it back or replacing it. It could have been done with a wave of his hand but more and more, he found solace in these small things.

    His catharsis was interrupted, the older lady he met at the furniture store walking into his building through the empty door frame.

    "Hello, you ordered some windows recently, we''ve got them all made up if you''re ready for installation today?" The woman asked.

    John nodded his head, looking at the empty space that his windows would soon fill with a sense of excitement and intrigue. He had seen the bits and pieces that would make up the larger windows as a whole, but struggled to picture the finished product in his mind.

    "Alrighty, I''ll go let them know and we can get started right away." The woman said, walking back towards the door. "By the way, will you be needing a new door? We could do that as well if you''re alright with one of our prefabs." The woman asked.

    John was planning to head down and buy a new door today anyway, so this worked out quite well for him. He nodded his head at the lady.

    "I''ll be right back with some samples then. Just going to go get them started on the windows first to get that done." The woman said, leaving his building.

    She came back not long after, with a few more people wearing matching outfits. Uniforms, John thought. Belts filled with tools, sturdy clothes with ample pockets covering their body and leather gloves on their hands. They set up a few tables and started working on what John thought would be the frame of his window.

    "Right, while they''re doing that, I''ve got some doors for you to look at. If you would like custom engravings or enchantments, we can also provide those at an additional cost but it will take a minimum of two days for either of them, and for more complicated designs could be upwards of a week or two." The woman said, pulling out some doors and resting them up against the wall near John''s doorway.

    The doors were all made of wood, of varying colours. Some had intricate designs of flowers, animals and monsters. Others were plain wood, the stain highlighting the natural textures of the wood. Some had windows, and one was even made of an almost transparent wood.

    John liked his book, though. He spent time making it and was proud of it, so he didn''t want the door behind to draw too much attention. He wanted it to look good and clean, providing a nice backdrop for the runes he would draw on top of it.

    The transparent one was nice, but his black writing would have trouble being seen on top of it because of the darkness behind it. For a similar reason, all of the dark coloured doors were unusable. All of the doors with beautiful, attention grabbing designs on them were also removed.

    That left John with only three doors to pick from. One white door, the painting obliterating any texture the door would''ve had, leaving behind a smooth white surface. A solid black knocker set just above the center. His writing would stand out, a strong contrast to the near pure white backdrop of the door. But it was plain, boring. He kept it as an option but it wasn''t ideal. He wanted some kind of texture, something of interest but just not too much.

    The second door was similarly plain, but without the thick white paint. The texture of the wood created small shadows that drew your attention just the slightest bit, some large knots in the wood providing interest, and all coated with a light white stain. This door didn''t seem to come with a knocker, nor was it as white as the previous door, more of a dull off white. But it was beautiful, and it was light enough that his writing would pop on it. It was a strong contender.

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    And the final door was another one with thicker paint coating it, covering the texture of the wood. But this time it had some markings on it, bringing back some life to the door. A vine crept around the edge of the door, a couple small flowers seeming to bloom from it. Just above the center of the door was a small knocker hanging below a rabbit''s head carved in a darker wood. It was almost too much, for John. But the center of the door was kept clear of designs so he kept it anyway.

    John decided to cut the first door, he didn''t like it nearly as much as the other two. But the other two were close. One was simple, beautiful wood. And the other was a gorgeous work of art. In the end, John decided to go with the third option. It would provide greater contrast for his writing, and he felt like that was the most important part.

    The woman put the rest of the doors away, vanishing into whichever storage ability she had, "That will be thirty gold, and I will have them install this as soon as they are done with your windows." She told John.

    John summoned the gold, paying the lady for the door and watched her take the door outside to one of the women working on his windows.

    They had got a surprising amount done while John was choosing his door, one of the holes filled in already. It looked plain against his current cobblestone building, the gray slate blending in with the stone surrounding it. The glass looked beautiful, clear enough to see through with enough imperfections to not just walk through it.

    It pleased John, seeing the holes in his wall finally filled in with something nicer. He would need to redo the material of his building soon, he thought. It just didn''t look proper with the stone on stone frame. But it was certainly better than empty holes.

    He watched as the group finished building his remaining window. The stone being carved on the spot, people measuring everything over and over as others cut things to size. When the frame was finished, they assembled it in his window without the glass.

    One of the people who had been sitting down got up and grabbed a large chunk of glass, manipulating it to float through the air towards the window, flattening and filling in the space perfectly. When it was done, the man sat back down out of breath.

    Interesting, John thought. They used a glass mage to fill in the glass and yet the stonework was done by hand. Was there just no stone mage around to deal with it today, or was there another reason that part was done by hand, he wondered. He supposed he could just ask, but it was never pleasant asking questions. People reacted poorly when he showed interest in them usually.

    With the windows done, most of the group started to pack up their tables and tools, heading down the street towards the furniture store they must have come from. The few that remained headed to his door frame, pulling out some of the wood that was mounted to the cobblestone building.

    They cleaned all the debris up, leaving an empty hole where his door used to be. Then they brought out the door frame of his new door, mounting it into the doorway. Strange that doors were all the same size, but windows were made to order, he realized.

    And at last, they put John''s new door into the new frame. They spent a few minutes opening and closing the door over and over, as they adjusted some of the screws attaching it to the frame, and then they were done. All but one packed up their stuff and left.

    The one remaining approached John, a human man. Rough, brown hair covered in dust and brown eyes.

    "Hey, so we''re all done here. If anything happens just come let us know and we''ll fix it for you. We might need to charge you depending on what happens though but something like the magic holding your window in dissolving after we leave would be free for instance. It should stabilize by tomorrow though.

    "While I''m here though, I was thinking about getting a book. Do you have anything on knitting? I''m gonna be a dad soon and I''ve been wanting to make her some cozy clothes to keep her warm when she''s here."

    John nodded his head, and with a wave of his hand filled the bookshelf next to him with various books on knitting.

    He watched the man browse through the books with a vigour he''d never seen before. It seemed he was in a rush, John thought. He came to John''s desk with an entry level knitting instruction book, teaching the barest of basics.

    "Alright, I''ve gotta get back to work real quick, but you take stories right?" The man asked, John nodding in response.

    "Okay, so I met my wife at the adventurer''s guild actually. She''s a pretty high level actually. But I was building some tables for the guild since some adventurer destroyed them or something, happens all the time. One of our best customers, believe it or not. And she came up to me while I was building, just sitting there watching me for a while.

    "Beautiful, I tell you. I was so nervous and kept hitting my thumb when I was hammering in nails. Every time she''d giggle a little. And then she spoke to me, said she''d never actually seen how the tables get replaced. Never thought about it, even though she saw people get thrown through them all the time.

    "I told her that most people just ignore us usually, go about their business or find a job to do, make a party or something. And we just kinda fall to the background. She laughed and agreed, saying I did seem pretty small over here.

    "She asked if she could help out and I showed her what to do, and she almost destroyed another table trying to hammer in a nail way harder than anybody has any reason to. I told her to keep to the adventuring and let the pros handle the hard parts.

    "And then, for whatever reason, I asked her out to dinner. And she said yes! One thing leads to another, and now she''s pregnant with our soon to be daughter. Sometimes I feel like I hold her back from her dreams, honestly. She hasn''t gone out on job in a long time now, and with our daughter I don''t think she will any time soon either. But that''s how I met my wife, is that good enough?" The man said, beaming with happiness as he talked about his wife.

    John nodded his head and watched as the man grabbed the book and ran out the door, barreling down the street. He wondered how romance would work between people like that. If the woman was high enough level, she would live longer than him. Far longer. Perhaps the woman wasn''t high enough level yet to extend her lifespan much. Maybe that''s why she hasn''t taken jobs, not wanting to live a life without her family. The thought bothered John. Or perhaps both were quite low level and the woman just found something more meaningful than adventuring. A shame he had no way of telling. Maybe he would help them out if they ever met again.

 12. Johns Sheep

    John left his building to look at it from the outside, take in his new additions as one would when they walk down the street. The windows looked bland, he thought. Near clear glass surrounded by stone that blended into the gray material making up the rest of his building. He reminded himself that the material would change in the future. Near future, perhaps. To something white, contrasting the dark stone surrounding his new glass.

    The door looked stunning, John thought. The white paint drawing his attention, the border of vines pulling your eyes to the center. Empty for now, barring the rabbit knocker. John redrew his book near the center of the door, careful to use the right letter at the end to not create an explosion of colours. He wrote ''John''s Books'' near the top of the door and stepped back to look at his work.

    It was better, he thought. He was still bothered that there was a need to replace the door, but this felt better. Looked better. It was clean, it grabbed your attention, it felt premium and quality but not gaudy.

    Satisfied, he returned to his store to continue the time consuming work of checking every individual book for damages and replacing them. It took him another day to work his way through them all. Most of the books had survived pretty well, a fold in a page here or a slight scratch in the cover. Many had even got off unscathed entirely. It was only the few at the point of impact that had been damaged beyond redemption.

    John thought about where you would go to repair books. When his door was damaged, it was the furniture store that replaced it. If his windows broke down, they said they would repair it. As a bookstore, if one of his books was damaged, would not his bookstore be the place to go to fix it?

    And yet, John had no means of repairing them. He was a traveler, hoarding wealth as he roamed the universe. He had wares, but no means to fix them. It was something he could learn, given time. Most things were, that was why he had taken [Runic Inscribing] in the first place, having that freedom to do anything with enough time was important.

    But fixing books wasn''t something John was passionate about. It didn''t excite him, he didn''t even know how they were made in the first place. A bunch of papers bound by a thicker piece of paper? Simple construction, and he was sure he could make something passable but he''d never actually seen himself how they were made. Perhaps magic was involved, perhaps it was done by machine.

    While he was daydreaming about book repair shops, a couple of customers walked into his store. Two humans, one male and one female. Both wearing leather armour, packs with rations and supplies hanging off their backs.

    The two walked up to John, the woman asking a question, "We''ve been hired to take out a vampire that''s been seen in the area. If you have any information we''d be willing to pay a substantial sum for it.

    "No sorry." John said, the two customers looking to his side where the sound came from. Perhaps John would find a way to condense his magic down so he could create the sound in front of him and avoid this someday.

    "Well that''s fine, thank you anyway. Do you know if you have any books on vampires and their weakness, hunting patterns, and so on? We''d like all the information we can find." The woman said to John.

    With a wave of his hand, the books moved themselves through the air to fill the bookshelf next to John with everything he had about vampires. He watched as the two walked over to the bookshelf, surprised at the space it was contained within.

    "This one seems good maybe?" The woman asked the man in a whisper.

    "No, I''ve never heard of vampires weak to moonlight. Can''t trust anything else in the book if they say that." He responded.

    "I don''t disagree but that''s the only thing that contradicts what we know about them too. Maybe they just met a different vampire? She asked.

    "Maybe they did, but we''re not hunting a different vampire anyway. I can''t trust it, it''s not worth it." He said, putting the book back on the shelf.

    "What about the bookkeeper? Do you think he knows more than he lets on? How could a guy like that know nothing about vampires, when he has all these books on them?" She asked, glancing over at John as he sat motionless in his chair.

    "If he knows more, he''s not telling us. And I don''t want to push him outside his comfort zone. Just focus on the books." He said, looking through another book he pulled off the shelf.

    "Right. You don''t think we could take him? He''s only level fifty, what could he do?" The girl asked, looking away when John turned his head towards them.

    "Maybe, but are we going to attack a bookkeeper just because he doesn''t tell us everything he knows?" The man asked, shushing the woman.

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    "We''re going to go fight a monster that could kill us if we make one shitty mistake, and he might know something that could keep us alive. I''m not saying we attack him, but maybe apply a little pressure?" The woman said, keeping her voice as quiet as she could, almost inaudible.

    "No. Levels aren''t everything, you know that. This bookshelf shouldn''t even fit here and yet it does somehow. And the worst part of it all is that for some reason it doesn''t even feel like anything''s happening. It just fits, so naturally. If he can do that just to fit another bookshelf in his store, we can''t risk angering him." The man said.

    "But he coul-"

    "No. Keep to the books" The man said, cutting her off.

    Their conversation continued for a little while, looking through books and debating whether or not the book is trustworthy. They finally settled on three books, bringing them up to John''s desk.

    "How much for these three?" The man asked.

    This was the first time a customer wanted multiple books, and John was unsure how to handle it. One story for a book was fair, he thought. But if they wanted three books, would they have to tell three stories? He supposed it was only fair. But if they pushed for two stories he''d accept it, he felt. Two stories was better than no stories.

    "One interestink story per book." John said, ''g'' being another sound he didn''t understand yet.

    "A story? Huh. We''ve got plenty of those." The woman responded.

    "How ''bout that space one from a few years back?" She asked the man.

    "Sure," he responded, "I''m a space mage, and a few years back I was really engrossed in my study, watching the fabric and how it moved and flowed. When there was suddenly a surge, everything around me rushing forwards for a moment before it all settled back down. I have no idea what happened, but it drained my mana almost by a third and I levelled up three times in that moment. Three times! I wish I knew what happened so I could make it happen again, but I haven''t seen it since. Maybe it happens all the time but I can''t keep my spells up all the time and I just miss it.

    "But whatever it was, it was the most powerful spacial shift I''ve ever seen. Everything seemed to warp for a moment and then it was just fine again. But different, the fabric had changed forever. Nobody else noticed anything, but I swear it happened." He said.

    "Two more stories, lets see... Oh there''s that one time with the headless horserider too." He said to the woman.

    "Right, yeah. A few months ago we were traveling down the road when we see this person on a dark horse, blackness flowing behind them and there was no head poking out of their pitch black clothes. We were so sure it was a monster of some sort ready to wreak havoc on society, so we got into formation ready to defend ourselves. It stopped just in front of us, the black dripping off the horse, staining the ground.

    "The rider hopped off and approached us, asking if we had a water rune on us. This dumbass says yes and throws our only fucking water rune at the rider." She said, poking at the man next to her before she continued, "And the rider just sprays down his horse, all of the black washing out of the horse revealing a totally normal looking brown horse.

    "Apparently, he was trying to make a magical darkness rune but just ended up covering them both in some kind of black fluid. And then when he tried to clean themselves up he made an invisibility rune. He gave up and was heading back to town to get somebody better to fix them up. Thank god we found him first, they probably would''ve killed him if he rushed into town looking like that." The woman said, shaking her head as she finished.

    "Hmmm. One more story. Oh I guess we could share how we met." She said, looking at the man as he shrugged.

    "So there''s actually four of us, the other two are off buying more supplies for our hunt. But we met four years ago in a tavern. Some old guy just runs in screaming about some chicken or something. Or was it a sheep?" She says, looking at the man.

    "I think it was a sheep," he said, "Apparently the guy pissed off some wizard and as revenge the wizard turned his wife into a sheep. So he runs into this random tavern begging people to fix his wife, the sheep."

    The woman continues, "Yeah, I mean there''s magic guilds and adventurer''s guilds and so many better places to go, but he runs into this tavern for some reason. The four of us all get up, interested in what''s going on. It might be a trap, but I didn''t really care. It would be fun, whatever happened.

    "He takes us down to his house on his farm and in his living room is a sheep just sitting on a couch. It looks over at us when we enter and waves at us." She said.

    "Yeah! Just a sheep, sitting on a couch waving at us when we entered. I was flabbergasted, I thought for sure we were all going to be attacked as soon as we entered. But nope, it was all true." The man said, laughing.

    "Who the fuck goes to a random tavern for something like this, like seriously. Anyway, one of the four of us happened to be pretty good with this kind of magic and he prepares this ritual in this guy''s living room. Drawing all over his floors with chalk. I swear it looks like we''re sacrificing a sheep to some elder god or something.

    "But then the magic surges, and the sheep transforms into a woman, on all fours on the ground, naked as the day she was born. The man covers her up and offers us a few gold as payment which we took and then left. After we were outside the four of us just died laughing at the whole situation. I mean, what kind of wizard turns somebody''s wife into a sheep? Why a sheep? What do you have to do to piss off a wizard enough for petty revenge like that, but not so much that they just kill you?

    "We talked amongst ourselves on the walk home and it turned out we were all looking for party to join, and we happened to make sense as a party so we just stuck together. We call ourselves the Heeps now." The woman said, finishing her story.

    John pushed the three books towards them, nodding his head. The two took their books and were almost out the door when he realized something. He did in fact know a vampire, a half vampire anyway. And he was quite fond of her.

    "What does your wampire look like?" John asked, the ''v'' sound giving him pause.

    "Same as any other vampire. Red eyes, white hair. A younger woman this time, a damn shame. She was seen in the area a few days ago and after the whole vampire thing a few years back they''re taking sightings a lot more seriously now." The woman said before they turned around and left.

 13. Johns Story

    They were looking for the half-vampire girl that frequented his store, John thought. The description matched, and she was indeed here a few days prior. The two hunters he just saw were hunting one of his few customers, and John didn''t know how to feel about that.

    Did John have the responsibility to defend the girl? He could, it would be simple. He could stop these two from hunting her, but it''s not as though they were the only danger the girl faced. She was at present either preparing for or actually fighting in a dungeon taking on creatures far above her level.

    But John knew of this danger, he knew their plans, he knew where she was. It was different when she was facing danger she chose to be a part of, that John wasn''t aware of. But now? He felt something, and he didn''t understand it. And that bothered him.

    The thoughts distracted him as he went about his day, adding his blurb about the cost of books to his door once more. He realized he forgot it when the people were asking how much the books cost. He tidied up his store, removing all of the dust that accumulated, and taking the books off the bookshelf next to his desk. It wasn''t a big deal, but he realized people might not want others to know what they were looking for.

    And the entire time, John was thinking about the vampire girl. He barely knew her, but she made a lasting impression. His first customer, the first time he learned of other universes, the first person he spoke with.

    But stopping the two hunters wouldn''t change anything. They would send more hunters. Perhaps even more powerful ones, as the last ones were stopped. Could John talk to the leaders and have them rescind their request? He could force it, but would he do that every time he noticed something wrong?

    He forced the thoughts aside. The girl would live, or she would be hunted to her death. It wasn''t John''s problem, she had her own life and would face her own consequences. John was a silent observer in this world, not an active piece of the game.

    There were more important things to do than worry about a human''s life. Such as helping the customers he saw approaching his door outside.

    A girl rolled into his store in a chair with wheels, she had short brown hair with a freckled face, wearing loose-fitting clothes. A woman pushed her from behind, looking much the same but a little taller, even if the girl in the chair were to stand up.

    "Hello." The girl looked at John, her brown eyes soft and timid. "Do you have any books of adventure? Just people going out and exploring the world and writing what they saw?"

    John waved his hand, filling the bookshelf near his desk with books of adventure and danger. Some were fictional tales written by overzealous authors wishing they could be something they weren''t, others bardic tales passed down through the ages. And the rest were journals written and kept by adventurers with a penchant for documenting their journeys.

    He returned to his desk and sat down, watching as the woman pushed the girl over to the bookshelf and pulled the books down, handing them to the girl. The girl glanced through them and handed them back.

    They came up to John''s desk and the girl placed the book she chose in front of him. A fictional tale of a girl living in another world and inventing modern medicine.

    "This one please!" Her eyes lit up, as a smile beamed on her face.

    "You need to share a story with the..." The woman paused, looking at John for a moment, "John?"

    "Oh yeah. I used to be able to walk around but then an accident happened and now I can''t. I don''t really wanna talk about that though, but afterward, I got really sad and started reading a lot. I got a new class I''ve never heard about, it lets me read things better. I dunno how to explain it but when I''m reading I feel like I''m in the book, almost like I get pulled into another world. I get to be a character in the world, but not like one of the ones that exist. Another one, I get to be me just in the book?

    "Does that make any sense? But that''s what happens. It''s really cool and I get to walk around and fight monsters and stuff. But if I die the book gets destroyed and even if I find another copy of it I can''t go back in." The sadness permeated the room, as she remembered a book she lost access to.

    "But that''s okay! Mom always gets me another book and then I can read again." The girl turned to the woman behind her and smiled.

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    "Is that really all you need for the book?" The woman asked John.

    John nodded his head, curious as to why people always seemed to wonder. Their stories were interesting, so of course it was enough. A thought to work through later.

    "Thank you so much, we will definitely be back in the future for more then."

    The two left John''s store, leaving him alone with his thoughts. A curious tale, exploring the world of a book. He wondered whether the act of writing created an entire world with predefined events, or if her class enhanced her imagination and let her explore what she thought to be true, in the rules put forth by the author.

    If she were entering a world that already existed, then that was further evidence of John''s worrying simulation theory. He could be in a video game in the other girl''s world. Or he could be in a book being read by somebody in yet another world. Perhaps merely a side character in some hero''s journey of power, or maybe he''s destined to be the villain. Or perhaps he''s the main character, his bookstore the primary focus.

    Did it matter, he wondered? Would he be more powerful if he were the main character? More intelligent, with deeper worries and stronger emotions? Something for the readers to grasp and relate to? If he were a side character, would his life be less fleshed out, with holes and gaps littering his history?

    He thought about himself, about where he came from, and who he was. And he couldn''t identify any obvious holes, any patterns indicating that some author never filled in the gaps. But could the author not just write that he felt that way? And would he be happier if he knew he was the main character, anyway?

    More and more, John was realizing that he may have less free will than he thought he did. It didn''t feel like he was forced into choices, everything he did was because he wanted to. But he could just be in a video game, or in a book, or a song a drunk bard wrote one night. Or who knows what other forms of story are created in other worlds. Maybe he''s just a memory, shared amongst people and when the memory is finally forgotten, he''ll cease to exist.

    The possibilities were endless, and few of them made John happy.

    Perhaps there were an endless number of universes, all next to each other, equal in their realness. That would make John pleased, being able to explore any number of places and meet people with entirely different histories starting from the beginning of time. Himself being as real in each as he was here.

    But perhaps they were layered, each universe being one step above, one step closer to being real. And only at the end of it all, would John truly have free will. But even then he supposed it could just be what he was made to do.

    He wondered when he could truly consider himself real. At what point would John know that this world was true, and his will his own?

    John was glad he started this bookstore. The dread that he found himself filled with at the moment was terrifying, the thought that he may be lines on a paper or just a bunch of lamps squished up next to each other was unpleasant. But that he was aware of the possibility made it worth it.

    There was nothing John could do, he would either have free will or feel like he did while he danced to another''s tune. But regardless of what happened, to John himself, it felt like he made his own choices. And he knew that he would accept that in time. Perhaps he would bump up traveling between universes a little higher on his to-do list, just in case he would gain some insights through it.

    At the very least, he needed to calm down and accept that the world isn''t as set in stone as he thought it was. The thought of not being as real as he is would be something he needed to accept more freely if these revelations were going to keep coming as often as they were.

    His thoughts shifted to more pleasant thoughts. How can he make people feel more confident when sharing their stories? As long as they didn''t lie, John would be satisfied with anything his customers thought to be interesting, even if he himself didn''t see it as such. But how could he communicate that?

    He had an idea, and stood up from his chair, turning around to face the wall that was normally behind him. In large lettering, he wrote on his wall, ''One interesting story for one book. Do not lie. Your story is enough.''

    John sat back down, nodding at his work. This would surely clear up the confusion some of his customers felt, and he was excited to find out as another customer walked in his door.

    A younger human, or not quite human, John noticed. Her body was lithe, with tufts of fur on her wrists, with her ears protruding from her head much like a cat''s. Her eyes were fierce, a thin black pupil cutting through the yellow iris.

    "Any books on classes that change the body? I, uhh, made a wrong choice and want to undo it if possible." The girl said.

    The bookshelf next to John was filled with books on classes with more tangible effects. With studies done on corrupting effects, the potential dangers and precautions one can take.

    The girl took her time browsing through the books, reading through a couple of pages of each one she pulled off the bookshelf. Then she turned around and walked back towards the door. "Thanks, have a nice day!"

    Curious, John thought. She didn''t take anything, but still thanked him. He was hoping to give his new sign he made a test run, see if she would understand that her story was good enough without having to ask. He didn''t mind the question, but the same question being asked over and over made him feel like he did a bad job of communicating with them.

    But instead, she just took a look at a few books and then left. Perhaps he didn''t have anything to help her, but he could have switched them out for different books if she had asked for something more specific. Whichever the case, it didn''t matter. He already had quite an interesting day.

 14. Johns Irony

    That was the first time a customer didn''t want anything, John thought. He supposed there was the stronger human who challenged him, but was he really a customer? It wasn''t that important, he didn''t think. Not everybody who goes into a store is going to buy something.

    He shifted his thoughts to his store, his progress was coming along pretty nicely. He had some nice bookshelves, a well-lit environment, he thought. Nobody had complained about the lighting, at least. Some nice windows, and even a new door he didn''t expect. The only thing left, he thought, was fixing the base material that made up his building.

    Something cleaner than the cobblestone that it was built out of now. His thoughts wandered to the white stone that some of the buildings in the richer district were made of. He liked that, and he wanted to change his building to that. The translucent crystal also spoke to him, but he wanted the contrast with his new windows.

    And so, he set out down the road once more, locking his door behind him. The whispers and glances didn''t bother him as much this time, as he appreciated the speech for what it was. Sure, they weren''t being all that nice, but they were doing so with something John struggled with even now.

    His walk took him through the bustling streets, to a different district now. Still closer to the center than John''s bookstore was, but not quite in the same affluent district he bought his furniture from. This was more of a commercial district, buildings dedicated to the crafts flanking him as he walked down.

    A couple of magician''s guilds, each one dedicated to a different branch of magic. In a woodworking guild, some students were watching a master carve something out of a tree stump. A chair, perhaps? The shape wasn''t quite there yet but John had no doubt it would form in time if he watched.

    And finally, a building dedicated to construction, with far more finesse put into each piece that made up the building. It stood out from the rest with engravings and inspired a certain stability that other buildings didn''t seem to have. This was the one, John thought.

    He walked into the building, greeted by an older man sitting behind a desk near the entrance.

    "Hello," the man said, looking at John with a quizzical expression, "what can we do for you today?"

    "I would like to change the material of my buildin''."

    "Change the material of your building? Like the whole thing?"

    John nodded his head.

    "Uhh, okay. We can tear down your current building and then rebuild it out of a different material if you like?"

    John shook his head. He didn''t want the building to be rebuilt, he only wanted the material to be swapped with something else.

    "So you want the building to just be changed to another material, without it ever actually being taken down entirely?"

    John nodded his head. That was exactly what he was after, a new material but with no disruption to his business. The loss of an interesting story was a price too great to pay just for some aesthetics. Some pointless gold would be much preferable, however much it would cost.

    "That is going to be incredibly expensive, you know? I mean, even disregarding the cost of materials which you will have to cover as well. Just the labour alone for something like that."

    John nodded his head again.

    "Right. And you want it switched to which material, sorry?"

    John pushed the memory of the white buildings he saw near the furniture store to the man.

    "Sovereign marble? Are you sure?"

    John nodded his head.

    "Wow. Okay, this is well beyond my pay grade I''m afraid. My boss will have to handle this herself, but she''s out on another job at the moment. I can send her down to your shop in a few days when she has time to go over the specifics if that''s okay with you?"

    That worked fine for John, and he nodded his head before leaving. He enjoyed his walk back to his store, looking into all the other stores he passed on his way. And he noticed something as he did.

    The other stores largely didn''t have plain flat walls. They had decorations, shelves, sconces, paintings, and other things hanging off of them, breaking up the monotonous view. Something to keep in mind, he thought. Maybe he would get some hanging shelves or paintings once his building was remodeled.

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    His walk back to the bookstore was uneventful, no merchants were pestering him to sell their goods, no fights breaking out, no carriages racing down the street. But it was peaceful, and he enjoyed it nonetheless.

    A customer was pacing back and forth outside his door, muttering something to himself. They nearly jumped when they noticed John approaching.

    "Hello," John said.

    "Oh hi. Are you the owner of this bookstore? Is it really books for stories?" The man asked, racing through his questions.

    "Yes." John unlocked the door and led the customer inside.

    "Great. I need a book on ghouls, please." His foot tapping on the floor.

    John waved his hand, filling the bookshelf with everything he had on ghouls. He watched as the man rushed up to it, his eyes darting from book to book before he grabbed one and brought it to John''s desk.

    John walked to his desk, the tapping of the man''s foot beginning to grate on his senses.

    "This one, please. One story. Uhh, keep it a secret but I found this really intricate chest in a dungeon I was exploring. But it''s guarded by a ghoul so I couldn''t get to it. Just the chest alone would make me live a life of unlimited wealth let alone whatever must be inside it. I knew exploring random dungeons would pay off someday but I really gotta go and figure out how to get past this damn thing. And I swear to god if you tell anybody about this I will find you and I will kill you." The man grabbed the book and ran off down the street.

    Out of curiosity, John extended his awareness a ways outside the city, looking for a dungeon nearby. There were a few, and he looked through them all, searching for a room like the man described. One did fit the description, a small stone room deep underground. An ornate golden chest sat in the back, with a ghoul standing dead still in front of it. Not quite a ghoul, John realized. A mutant of some kind, it seemed.

    Well, perhaps the book would help the man, or perhaps he would be greedy and overextend, losing his life in the process. It wasn''t John''s problem, though. Funny, he realized. This was a customer as well, about to face certain death and he wasn''t bothered at all. He wondered why the vampire girl being in danger bothered him. He couldn''t understand it, he valued both of them the same, and yet somehow the girl had this strange pull to her.

    He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the chest that pushed the man to such lengths. A mimic, he realized. Perhaps that''s why the ghoul had mutated, the two monsters growing together. The mimic lured adventurers in to fight the ghoul, thinking the chest must be real as mimics were almost never seen around other creatures. And then when their guard was down, the mimic would leap in to finish them off.

    A fairly strong strategy, he thought. Until they bit off more than they could chew, the distraction wouldn''t work if a particularly careless mage threw a large area of effect spell into the room hitting both of them. It seemed they''d at least claim one more victim though, if the man didn''t realize that something seemed off.

    It was pleasing, he found, to view the dungeon and think about how its denizens would handle the invaders. Not something he wanted to spend all of his time on, but something he had never done before and found enjoyable.

    Another customer entered his store. A larger elven woman, her dark skin contrasting her short blonde hair. Her ears pointing up through her hair.

    "Hello," she said as she wandered over to the bookshelves. John nodded at her.

    She browsed through the books for a while before she came up to John''s desk.

    "Not really sure what I''m looking for. Got anything you think might be interesting?" She asked.

    John hadn''t thought about it before, most of the books he had he never read, and the few he had weren''t particularly interesting to him.

    "Interestin''?" John asked the elf.

    "Yeah, you know. Adventurer, mystery, horror? Something that keeps you on the edge of your seat? Excitement, I guess."

    John waved his hand, filling the bookshelf near him with what might be considered exciting.

    The woman browsed through the bookshelf, placing some of the books next to her as she did. She let out a groan after a while and picked one of them up, bringing it to John''s desk.

    "This one, I guess. I dunno man, it all seems so boring but oh well." The book was about a younger man in school, trapped in time, destined to save the world from some ancient horror.

    "I was walking down the street one day, reading a book and not paying attention. When this elven man just runs into me, knocking us both down. His hat falls off and reveals his ears and he seems to panic, looked like his entire world ended. I''ve never seen a man exude such despair before. So I leaned in close and showed him my ears too and he almost died laughing at it. Couldn''t shut up about how unlikely two elves running into each other like that was.

    "It always kinda stuck with me though. He had a point, y''know? Not something that happens every day. Never saw him again after that though, so maybe he ditched town anyway. Wouldn''t blame him, people weren''t as nice back then as they are now. Still aren''t, get plenty of stares walking down the street but I''m sure you can relate to that. I''d like to see him again someday though. Maybe we''ll run into each other again in the street." She smiled.

    "Anyway, thanks for the book. Have a nice day." She took the book and headed out the door.

    How interesting, John thought. He had met another elf who had an identical story but from the other perspective. Perhaps they had met before, and John had somehow met both of them as customers, sharing the same story. However unlikely it was to have two elves run into each other like that, John thought it was even less likely that both would come to this bookstore and share the same story with him, years apart.

    Was that irony, he wondered? He never really understood what made something ironic. What separated irony from a funny coincidence? Perhaps one day he would learn properly, but it never seemed to be used consistently anyway. He wondered about what that meant for the word. Meanings changed with time, how long would it take for the meaning of irony to shift to something else? And would that scale matter to John?

    He supposed it didn''t matter. It was just a word. Whether their story was ironic or coincidental or some other term didn''t matter. John found it interesting, and that''s all that mattered to him.

 15. Johns Gift

    A woman entered John''s store, wearing a dark red suit, and black hair in a ponytail behind her. She looked around at the store, shaking her head a few times as she did.

    "You''re the one wanting your building rebuilt out of sovereign marble?" The woman asked.

    John nodded his head.

    "You understand that sovereign marble is incredibly expensive, not to mention the labour costs of replacing it all without tearing your building down first?"

    John nodded his head again.

    "And you understand that sovereign marble is usually formed to the shape, instead of put together piecemeal as we will have to do with your building? There will be dark shadows breaking up the marble surface where we join the pieces together."

    John wasn''t aware of that, he thought that his building would be solid white as the other ones were. When he thought about it though, he quite liked it. The dark shadows would provide contrast, which he thought was good. He nodded his head.

    The woman shook her head, "I will have some guys come down to take measurements, and we''ll get a price together for you. For the materials. The labour you will be paying per day on an ongoing basis. Will that work for you?"

    John nodded his head.

    He was beginning to get excited, as the day drew closer to where his building would be completed. There were so very few things left for him to do with it, and this was the biggest one. And it was here! It was happening, the woman was setting it up and getting him the final price of it all.

    The price itself was irrelevant to John, but knowing that it was coming was enough for him. He had been working out of this bland gray building for long enough and was excited for a change of scenery.

    The woman returned several hours later followed by a group of men. They were dressed in similar attire to the people from the furniture store, though the colour was a dark red and they wore thin black cloth gloves.

    She spoke with the men, pointing them in different directions, and they went off to different sides of John''s building. Each had a black stick that they poked the edge of his building with, before magic surged from them, surrounding his building in a pale red light that faded as quickly as it came.

    The men returned to her, and she gave them more instructions as they spread out around his building once more. This time with small tools that had a long and flexible extension they dragged around, making marks on his building and writing in booklets they carried in a pocket.

    The woman entered John''s building again. "We''ve got the general idea of your building now so we can start to work on sourcing the material. You''ll need about forty-five tonnes of sovereign marble. Which at a rate of one hundred gold per tonne will run you just about five thousand gold. I will need payment upfront for this. I refuse to take on the debt of sovereign marble."

    John summoned a wire, forming it into a ring and filling the ring with enough space to hold that many gold coins. He then filled the space with said gold coins and handed it to the woman. She took the ring, and John could feel a pulse of mana enter it as her eyes went wide in shock.

    "Did you just create this?" She asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

    John nodded his head. It was a simple thing to make and carrying so many gold coins would be inconvenient, he thought.

    "Can you make more of them? How big can you make one? How many people know you can do this?"

    If John had eyes, they would be rolling, he thought. To be pestered over something so insignificant, the greed from the woman almost palpable. He formed his speech spell, "No."

    "No, you can''t make more of them? You would just give something so valuable away like this? I can pay for the materials if you need more, can you make me an even bigger one?"

    "I do not wish to," John said.

    "I can pay you. As many stories as you want."

    It was almost tempting, but the woman disturbed John. Something about her made him feel that this trade was not in his favour. The greed, the lack of awareness she had. He regretted having made the one ring for her already.

    "You ha''e the money. Please just build my buildin''." John said to her, almost wincing as he struggled with some of the letters. He would need more practice.

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    "Yes sir, anything for you, sir." She said and headed back down the road from where she came.

    A frustrating individual, John found. He was glad the other lady he gave a ring to was less egregious. Perhaps because she had been born into wealth, she never truly understood the value of it. Not as though John understood much better, a simple ring as that being worth such a reaction was incredible to him.

    He watched the people around his building continue to drag their tools around, marking his building at fairly regular distances. They talked amongst themselves as they worked, making plans for drinks later. Whispering about the monster who ran this building, thinking John couldn''t hear them.

    The experience was mostly negative, for John. He was excited for his building to be finished, to have something he could be proud of. But the process through which it got there was much worse than he expected. A greedy owner, and lax employees with no respect for the person they''re working for.

    Were money to be something he was worried about, the slow work of the employees would bother him more too. It bothered him a bit anyway, because the slower they worked the longer they spent near him. But to think they would charge him by the day and then not work hard. He was paying them to talk and lounge around, poking his building on occasion.

    Now that he thought about it, he was still annoyed at it. Even if the money itself wasn''t a concern, the principle of the matter just felt wrong to him. They should have some respect, he thought. But it wasn''t a huge problem. Things would work out, and he would have his completed building in time. He just needed to be patient, and that was something he was a bit of an expert in.

    Hours more passed as he watched the men work around his building, covering it in dark lines. As darkness fell, they packed up and left, leaving John alone to his thoughts once more.

    It was a nice break, he found. To be free from their incessant babbling and judgement. On a normal day, he kept his awareness firmly within his building, often extending out in front of his door a little to see who was coming. Anything not in his building was largely unnoticed by him, and he was free from the bustling noise of the street.

    But when there were people he was hiring to work on his building right outside, it was difficult to not keep an eye on them. He tried to pull his awareness in closer a few times, but the worry overwhelmed him and he would always take a look outside again shortly after.

    The stress was something he wasn''t used to. There was nothing they could do to him, but there was plenty they could do to his building, and he liked his building. It was his own, something he was proud of.

    A customer entered the store, interrupting his thoughts. An older man, his back bent as he hobbled in. Short gray hair and a long gray beard, wrinkled skin and black eyes that looked at John.

    "Hello there. I''m looking for children''s books, do you have any?"

    The old man watched with childlike wonder as books flew out of John, filling the bookshelf next to him.

    "What a useful spell that must be. Though I suppose I would just never get out of my chair again." The man coughed as he chuckled, walking over to the bookshelf. "Oh my, it''s so much further away than it seemed before. Is this some more of your magic?"

    John nodded his head.

    "You''re an interesting chap, you know that?"

    John hadn''t thought himself interesting before, but he supposed from the perspective of a human he would be quite unusual. He didn''t respond, watching the man browse through the books.

    "Oh ho ho, yes I remember this one. My mother bought it for me when I was just a young boy. I read it all the time. A little bit much for the girl now, but maybe I''ll be back again." The book was a tale of a girl who fell in love with a farm boy. The plot was near inconceivable, John thought.

    "Ah yes, this one will do fine." The man said, bringing up another book to John''s desk. It had a few pages talking about all the different letters, a couple of pages on animals one might see around town, and then a couple of fun adventures. A shorter book without much substance.

    "My daughter''s giving birth soon, finally. I was worried I would die before I saw the day. Though I guess there''s still time." He laughed. "I lived a pretty mundane life, working on the farm with my parents. I took over when they died, but my daughter was too eager to go out exploring and I''m too old to do it myself now so I''ve retired. Sold the farm to a younger man with bright ideas and bought a little place near town.

    "I''m gonna be a grandfather soon. I really never thought it would happen. I didn''t fault her for it, of course. I''m proud of her and who she is. But I always hoped, to myself. And here we are." He coughed. "She''s settled down with somebody she loves and is having a daughter of her own. Maybe I shouldn''t have given up the farm so easily after all, but what''s done is done." He smiled at John.

    "Do you have any family?" He asked.

    "Far away," John said.

    "Ahhh, I''m sorry. Well, thank you for the book, John. I need to get going before it''s too dark out." The man said, and headed out the door, hobbling his way down the street.

    John thought about the man. He liked the man, he thought. He looked at the book on the shelf that the man paused on, the one he said he had as a younger boy and teleported it to his desk, reading through it. It was a nice book, he thought.

    He extended his awareness out of his building, seeing the man walking down the street. He teleported the book in front of the man, making it float until he reached out and grabbed it. The man turned towards John''s bookstore and smiled, thanking him.

    It felt good, John thought. But he wasn''t sure exactly why. Something about what he did made him feel pleased, made him feel satisfied. He gave the man something freely, without wish of payment in return. But John felt the man had shared two stories regardless, one of his daughter and one of his childhood. And yet, it felt different.

    This was his own decision, a customer didn''t pick it out. This was a gift, he realized, from John to the man. Was it the first gift he had given, he wondered? He gave the gay girl a ring, would that be considered a gift? The ring to the woman building his store was payment, he thought.

    The ring the girl was given was requested, she asked for something to keep her book a secret. That wasn''t a gift, but something else. He wasn''t given anything in return though, so was it different? He thought it was, but he couldn''t quite understand what it was.

    What he was sure of, was that he enjoyed it. He liked meeting the man, and he liked seeing the man happy with the gift he gave him. There wasn''t anything more to understand, John thought. Everybody ended up happy, and that was enough.

 16. Johns Danger

    John watched as another group of people approached his building. Many dressed in similar garb as the ones who marked his building the previous day, but some were wearing looser robes in a matching dark red colour. They walked around his building, pointing at the marks they made, arguing amongst themselves about the best way to approach the problem.

    A few hours passed as the group wandered around his building, drawing figures and plans in their books, before one of the men entered his building¡ªa shorter man, with brown hair and tanned skin.

    "Hey, so we''re all ready to get started whenever you give the okay. This will probably take a few days though, maybe a week." The man said, leaning in the doorway.

    John nodded his head, and the man went back outside.

    "All good! Let''s go!" He yelled to the group.

    A couple of the robed individuals began charging some magic before bursts of wind slashed into the walls where the marks were, cutting through the stone. Other robed individuals¡ªmages, John thought¡ªpulled the stone section out of his wall, the sun shining through the newly formed hole at the bottom of his wall. The small stone block collapsed onto itself, folding over and over as it was squished into a bag one of the mages held.

    The same mage pulled out what looked like white clay, almost liquid in its form as it draped over her hand in clumps. Another mage surged with magic as they willed the white clay into the same shape as the new hole in John''s wall. Sweat beaded on their brow as another mage came up and pushed some of their own magic into it, the white clay solidifying into solid stone. The group took a break for a half hour, and then the same mage who formed the white clay pushed it into the hole, perfectly fitting.

    The group repeated the entire process over again, creating a hole right above where the white stone sat, moulding another bunch of the clay to the exact shape and then solidifying it. But this time, as they took their break, another mage grabbed some similar-looking black clay from the storage mage''s bag and spread it on the top of the white stone.

    When their break ended, they pushed the white stone into the hole, the black putty squishing between the two pieces, dripping down the sides. The regular workers without robes scraped it away with metal tools, and the mage who solidified the white stone clay did the same process to the black putty between the two pieces, gluing them together to form one solid piece with a thin black line between them.

    It looked nice, John thought. He was excited to see the finished product, there was sure to be a lot of pleasing contrast, and that was a good thing, John thought.

    He watched as the workers continued their process of ripping out sections of his wall, forming new blocks of the white marble and gluing them together with the black putty. It was fascinating, he thought. To see all of them working together, each one having a specific job, a dedicated thing that they excelled at.

    The material seemed like it would even give John some trouble to work with, the fluid state it seemed to be stored in would require some work. He thought he could teleport the clay into place, with a spacial barrier to keep it from flowing around. But the magic that imbued it with solidity was something John couldn''t figure out just by watching it. The material would be useless if he had to maintain his space magic constantly just to keep his building from melting.

    He wondered if he would even be able to do what he thought, or if the material would squish into itself and end up uneven. The blocks that were being inserted seemed perfectly even, not one spot being denser than the other. If he just let it float in a barrier, the bottom section would be compressed, at least a little. He had no means of manipulating each individual molecule, at least not without a lot of planning to create a rune that could do it.

    The humans impressed him once again, he found. Doing something that even he couldn''t see an easy solution for, although not quite without a considerable effort this time at least, he thought as he watched sweat bead on the white stone mage as they manipulated it into a block once more.

    The day passed, as John watched the group work through a small section of his wall bit by bit. Each block took a little over a half hour to finish installing, and was not much larger than a person''s head. The group worked the whole day from dawn to dusk with nary a break, bar the time they spent resting after forming each brick.

    Not one customer came into John''s store that day, to his disappointment. He wondered if it was because of the group working on his building, perhaps they were scaring his customers away. He hoped not, he was still open after all. The entire purpose of doing it this way was to not have an unnecessary interruption to his service. The side benefit of course was that it produced a better-looking product in the end, he found.

    He wondered why more of the buildings made of this stone didn''t do the same thing. Perhaps it was something they hadn''t thought of before, and John was a brilliant innovator. Perhaps it was because of John''s refusal to shut his business down that this method even became viable in the first place, and nobody else was so stubborn about their hours.

    Regardless of why, he was pleased he got to take advantage of it. He looked at the small section on one of his walls, the white and black patterns drawing his attention. It was pleasing, and he was quite excited about the finished product. It seemed a week was a bit of a generous estimate though, he thought. If this was all they did in a day, this would take many weeks.

    The days passed, as John watched the group return in the morning and work through the day, to head home at night. Four days later and they had almost finished an entire wall. Some days they showed up with more mages, able to work on multiple sections at a time.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Towards the end of the fifth day, the owner woman showed up again, much to John''s disdain.

    "Hello sir, just here to make sure everything''s going well for you, sir. Do you have any questions or concerns, sir?" She asked.

    John shook his head and then realized he did have a question. "Labour payment?" He asked. The woman told him that he would be paying per day on an ongoing basis, and that had never come up.

    "Ah, yes sir. We haven''t yet run through the gold you gave us for the materials and it''s been enough to pay for labour as well. If we need more we will let you know, sir."

    John nodded his head. "Anythin'' else?" He asked.

    "No sir, that''s all sir. Thank you, sir." She said and left to go speak with some of the people outside. Telling them to make sure they don''t offend the owner and do anything he asks, then headed off back down the street.

    She was less grating today, but something about her just irked him. He couldn''t quite explain it, couldn''t quite understand it himself. But she just felt wrong, to him. She was human, he knew. She wasn''t powerful, there weren''t any illusions. But there was a feeling of wrongness about her that bothered him. Something fake, disingenuous. But he wasn''t sure what.

    To his surprise, a customer walked in shortly after the woman left. He hadn''t been expecting any while the construction was ongoing, disappointed that it seemed to scare them all away. But that wasn''t the case, he found. Perhaps only some were bothered by it, and he would still have some interesting stories while his building was redone.

    "Hello," the woman said, her black dress almost reaching his floor as she walked towards the bookshelves.

    John nodded his head.

    She took her time browsing through the bookshelves, looking at various books of all different genres. Some fiction, some studies or documentation on creatures and landscapes. After a while she just spun around in place with her eyes closed and then pointed at a random book, bringing that one to John''s desk.

    "I''ll take this book, whatever it is, I guess." She placed the book down in front of John. It was a book describing the tools used by leatherworkers, both the production and usage of said tools. It didn''t seem to be the de-facto standard on either, but it was competent enough at illustrating both.

    "I''m an adventurer, I go exploring the world finding horrors to fight. Sometimes it gets boring though. Not the fighting, that''s always enjoyable." She smirked. "But the finding the monsters part. That can be boring. So I started bringing along books to read now and then and got the [Dangerous Reading] skill if you''ve ever heard of that. Lets me read faster the closer I am to dangerous monsters. Don''t really care about the reading faster part, but a side benefit is I can tell if there are dangerous monsters nearby depending on how fast I''m reading. So now I just kinda drift around while I read and if I suddenly speed up I know there''s something fun around.

    "Gets extra boring though since the books don''t last that long anymore. By the way, I''ve never read even nearly as fast as I can read here. You must be quite the monster." She said, smirking at John.

    A challenge, he thought? Less brazen than the previous one. And she shared an interesting story. It was still not worth his time to fight with her, nor was it something she should be entertaining if she wished to keep her life.

    "I will not fight you if that is what you are askin''," John said.

    "Damn. Well thanks for the book anyway." She vanished, appearing a few streets away, tossing the book into the air a few times before she flew off.

    A skill that lets you read faster the closer you are to danger was quite interesting, John found. He wondered how the danger was defined since the girl was in no danger in John''s store. There was almost no chance that John would harm a customer, let alone risk his store. And yet her skill seemed to recognize him as being the greatest danger she had been near. Perhaps it was just recognizing powerful mana forms nearby, rather than an abstract concept of danger.

    Though for the girl, perhaps stronger creatures would be dangerous, as she would always challenge them. And the system recognized this, calling it some form of danger sense. It was interesting to see how the system would shift its behaviour depending on the person interacting with it. Would the other girl with the reading class have acquired the same skill, but called Mana Reading, or something of the like?

    Perhaps the other girl already did have something of the sort. Though with how she seemed to be reading, speed wasn''t very much a part of it anyway. Maybe she didn''t have something similar.

    And to think it was just a skill she acquired by reading while she was out adventuring. For it to be so simple to acquire new skills, new abilities that can completely shift how she lives her life. John was almost envious.

    The following couple of weeks passed without another customer, the woman the only one unbothered by the construction it seemed. Disappointing, but he at least had one interesting story in the downtime and got to watch his building transform which was also enjoyable.

    The most interesting part for John was his ceiling. It was the final piece they worked on after all of the walls were completed.

    Many more mages were brought in on the final day, and they ripped out the entire ceiling in one piece. Several stone mages held up a thick gray stone just below where his ceiling would be. And then several more mages formed the white clay into one solid piece filling in the ceiling. The black putty was formed all around the edge with even more mages, and then a few more solidified the whole section in place, creating one solid white block that John called his ceiling.

    He was disappointed that they didn''t do the same process as the walls, the black and white patterns were something that he quite liked. The smooth white ceiling was less interesting to him, but he supposed it wouldn''t be seen as often either. Not by most, at least.

    The group left afterwards, and the owner woman showed up about an hour after.

    "Hello sir, your building''s all done, sir. Is everything to your liking, sir?" She asked, handing him back the ring he created for her. A handful of gold coins were still inside, he found.

    John nodded his head, the building was better than he had ever hoped for.

    "Good, great. If you ever need more work done, sir, you know where to find us. And if you ever change your mind about selling more rings then you know where to find me. Thank you very much, sir, have a great day, sir." The woman left, looking back at the building as she was a little way down the street. She shook her head and then continued towards her own building.

    It was done, John thought. His building was complete, there would be no more workers disturbing his customers, nor him as they rested and whispered about John. He looked around at the black and white mesh that made up his building now, satisfied with what he had. No longer was he surrounded by the gray cobblestone. His windows in particular looked excellent, the dark slate contrasting with the white marble just as he had hoped.

    He sat in his chair and waited for his next customer. Now with his much nicer building, he was certain he would have many more customers to learn about.

 17. Johns Honesty

    The hours passed as John sat in his chair, content with his life. He was nearly done with everything he wanted to do, he thought. There would be other things to fill his time once his building was completed, but this had been a project that kept his attention for a short while now. And there was a certain gratification he felt from it.

    A man walked into his store, rough dark hair and ragged clothes covering his short frame. "What''s the most expensive book you have?" He asked.

    John thought about it, but he wasn''t sure. He hadn''t paid for any of the books, and to John, they all had the same value. One interesting story was enough for any of his books, regardless of what humans might value them. He hadn''t thought about the cost of his books in gold before.

    Humans tended to value superfluous ornaments and decorations much higher than knowledge or practicality, he thought. A flood of books filled with various metal markings and text flew out to fill the shelf next to him. The man''s eyes widened as he rushed to the bookshelf, grabbing two that were covered in gold.

    "If I share a super interesting story can I have both of these?" His voice filled with an eagerness John hadn''t seen often before.

    John nodded his head. There were very few times he would refuse an interesting story. The cost of an extra book was nothing compared to learning more about these people.

    "I used to be an adventurer long ago. I was known throughout the lands as the fleet-footed flame, and one day a king hired me to take out a dragon that made its home in a corner of his kingdom. I took the job, for free of course. Money means nothing to one such as I when there are poor citizens at stake, their lives meaningless in front of the raw power of a dragon." The man said, beginning his story.

    The words felt like poison to John, pouring through his body and ripping it to shreds. His mind was stunned by the pain, rent apart by the deceitful words shared by the man. This man was a liar, John knew, every fibre of his being knew it to be true. His words were meant to deceive and trick, a meagre attempt to steal John''s books. One that would not work.

    John pressed down on the man with his magic, his words ceasing under the immense pressure. The man stared at John with fear and despair. A fitting end for a liar, John thought. But it would not do, it would not do to kill this man. However violent and cruel he was, John still had business here. He had a shop to run, and this man''s death would cause him problems.

    Or would it, John thought, as he got up and locked his door, blocking off his windows with another spacial anomaly. Perhaps this man wouldn''t be missed. Perhaps his death wouldn''t cause any issues at all. Perhaps nobody would even notice.

    The temptation was strong, the pain from the man''s deceit still fresh in John''s memory. He could just teleport the man into space, and let him float around aimlessly until he starves. He could squish the man and send him to a field as fertilizer. Would anybody even notice? Would they care?

    John wasn''t sure. But he knew killing the man wouldn''t be right, not yet. Perhaps later should he return and cause more problems. But right now he had to calm down and think about the situation more logically. This man was a criminal, attacking John and trying to steal his books.

    He extended his awareness to the rest of the town, finding the prison he was in before. He summoned a paper and pen, and wrote ''Thief'' on it, sticking it to the man''s back. He then teleported the man into one of the empty cells and retracted his awareness back to his building.

    A terrible start to the day, John thought. It had been a while since he felt that pain and it was particularly potent this time too. The man must have had a history of deceit and lies, honesty a mere afterthought to him. A pathetic showing, lies are the tools of the weak.

    He turned his attention to his store, thinking about what else he could improve in it. There were the decorations, paintings and shelves he could fill the walls with. He wasn''t in much of a mood to walk down the street at the moment though, and everything else seemed to be done. He had his nice white stone, his windows and door were luxurious, and the interior was lit and populated with product.

    There wasn''t much else for him to do, things to distract himself with. He could work on shrinking his voice producing magic, but it was already usable and motivation for it was falling. Perhaps at a later time, but not now. John wanted something pleasant to do, a customer would do, but there were none at the moment. He realized his door was still locked, and his windows still blocked and unlocked it all, opening his store once more.

    He waited for a little while, almost an hour of sitting in his chair wishing for something to do, when a familiar customer walked in the door. A younger girl pushed in a chair by her mother.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    "Hello again, she''d like another adventuring book if that''s alright?" The mother asked.

    John nodded his head, realizing the ornamented books were still sitting on his desk, and filling the shelf. He waved his hand, replacing them all with different books of exploration than the girl had seen last time. If she wanted something specific she could ask, but John thought she might enjoy a new selection.

    He watched as the mother pulled books off the shelf for the girl to look through, putting them back when the girl shook her head. Watching them calmed John down, the frustrations and pain he felt fading away, replaced with joy, and excitement of another story to learn. An honest one even, he thought. The girl didn''t lie last time, and she wasn''t likely to this time either.

    They spent their time, chatting about books they looked through. The girl was excited about some of the stories, while some she said would be boring. There wasn''t enough world-building, she said. Some of the trees looked gray, she said. Which apparently, was funny the first couple of times, but now it''s just boring and bland.

    The two settled on a book, bringing it to John''s desk. It was the first of a series, he knew. One of Vampires and stone masks, written by a forgetful author obsessed with flamboyance. He wondered how that would work with the girl''s class.

    If the author forgot something, would it be removed from the world as soon as the world progressed to the point where it was forgotten? At what point would that be defined, anyway? When can you be sure that the author forgot something, instead of it just not having relevance again? Would the author''s mind while reading it affect the world such that when they forgot it, it was removed at that point?

    Or would the girl explore the world full of holes as it was written, wondering why the rules never seemed to make sense. He wondered how it would work with the book being a series, too. Would her class allow her to follow how the story would progress, or would each book be a separate world with different characters, progressing down a different timeline from how it was originally written?

    The girl''s class fascinated John. The versatility of humans never ceasing to amaze him.

    "I''d like this book please John!" The girl said from her chair. "I was reading that last book you gave me and it was super super fun. There was this really powerful girl in it who did some cool stuff which was kind of cool but the world just seemed really fun to be in. Lots of forests and animals and the classes I got were really fun too. I was a thief! With these black shadow wings and I could fly around. I''ve never flown before, that was really fun. Seeing the trees zoom by under me was super cool. That was a good book I''m definitely gonna read it more again. I hope this one''s as good too, never seen Vampires before. Maybe I''ll be a super strong Vampire." She giggled.

    "Thanks for the book again, John." The mother said, as the girl took the book and was pushed out of the store.

    From how the girl was describing it, John was increasingly believing that she didn''t follow the main story at all. The main character did some cool stuff? Not even worth a mention to her, as the girl went about doing her own thing and explored the forests. Fascinating.

    His mood had lightened, he realized. He was calm, and content. The frustrations had washed away, helping a customer was a strong means of catharsis for him, he realized once more. Whatever evils dominated his mind were overwhelmed by the joy he felt from helping somebody who came to his store.

    He was even getting repeat customers, somewhat often now. A surprise, though he would like a larger variety too. The ideal, he thought, would be more customers overall, both new and repeat. But he had what he had, and he liked it enough.

    John decided to check on the thief he had dealt with earlier, looking at the jail where he was left. The man looked furious, having ripped the paper stuck to his back to shreds, screaming down the corridor. A couple of the other people in the prison looked angry at him, telling him to quiet down, with much more colourful language.

    A guard walked up to the man''s cell. "We''ve told you, we can''t just let anybody out because they say they broke into jail. I mean really, you couldn''t have made up a better excuse?"

    "I TOLD you, I didn''t break in. I was teleported inside against my will. I don''t belong here. Let me out right this instant." The thief said.

    "Yes yes, some monster sent you in here against your will. Most people are here against their will, you know? That''s the point. We''ll talk as soon as we can but we have other priorities right now so calm down and wait, okay? It won''t be much longer now." The guard said and walked back off down the hallway.

    A few more minutes passed, and another guard came down to the thief''s cell. His armour was much cleaner than the previous one, with more markings on his shoulder.

    "I hear you''re causing problems?" The guard said.

    "I am not causing problems, I am unfairly imprisoned. You will let me out this instant!" The thief said.

    "Calm down now, tell me exactly what happened."

    "I was at that godforsaken monster''s shop, you know the one? John''s books, it calls it. I heard people say you can get free books if you just tell a story so I went to get my grandfather''s favourite book just to read through it one more time, remind myself of the great man he was. And I tell this monster the story of my grandpappy''s passing, the most interesting story I know. What a man he was, facing down sickness for so long before it finally claimed him. I''m so proud of who he was, and then the monster just attacks me for absolutely no reason. Crushing me under its weight.

    "I thought my bones were going to shatter, I was sure it was going to eat me. And then it just slapped on this piece of paper on my back calling gramps a whore and teleported me in here. It''s just toying with us. You have to kill that monster before it''s too late. I didn''t do nothing wrong, sir, I just wanted a reminder of my dear grandfather since my last one burned up in a fire when bandits attacked our house." The thief said, tears streaming down his face.

    "Ah that monster, yeah I''ve heard about it. They say it broke out of prison here too, not sure why we let it keep causing mayhem. I''ll let you go, nobody should have to suffer at the hands of something like that." The guard said, opening the gate and letting the thief out.

 18. Johns Blog

    John watched the thief leave the building, the prison he rightfully belonged in. He wasn''t sure what to do, something about the situation made him feel uneasy, uncomfortable. He wanted to understand. He knew that the thief leaving made him feel bad, and he knew that he didn''t like the thief lying about John. And he knew that he didn''t like the guard having a bad outlook on John.

    But how was that different than him walking down the street and hearing people talk about his monstrous form? What made it different from the workers sitting around his building whispering to each other about the creature inside?

    He didn''t know.

    He decided to take some time, to think about what had happened. He got up from his desk and locked his door, casting a spell to cover his building in a protective layer of space. It would not do to have his new building he took pride in be damaged while he was off contemplating.

    And then John vanished, appearing in the empty space he found solace in. Surrounded by darkness, the faint lights of a few stars breaking up the black scenery. This was his home away from home, he always thought. As infrequently as he tended to use it, anyway.

    More often since opening his building, he realized. He wondered why that was. What about being here with these humans made him need so many more breaks? He always had a firm grip over his self, this little corner of space being his to relax in when he felt good, or had some spare time.

    And yet, here he was, for the second time in a short time, spending his time here contemplating his emotions. His state of mind. It was curious, to him. That these humans would have such an effect on him.

    He had hoped they would matter to him, that was the point of opening his shop. He wanted to learn about them. Understand them a little better. Take a piece of them with him, immortalizing their short reign with his memory for eternity.

    But this was more than he had expected. His emotions were in turmoil. Frustrations, anger. Unbridled fury plaguing his every thought as he sought interesting stories to learn about. He found himself unable to control it at times, the desire to destroy filling him. Pushing him to erase the feeble creatures from existence.

    That wasn''t what he wanted. He knew that, deep inside. Killing them wouldn''t make him feel better, he wanted to be accepted. He wanted to be appreciated. And to see so clearly that people were lying, deceiving the populace into believing that he wasn''t to be accepted hurt.

    That was the difference, he realized. The people walking down the street were afraid of him. Mislead, perhaps. But this time was different. The thief knew they had lied to John. The thief knew they deserved to be imprisoned. And yet they lied, they lead the guard to believe John was full of malice and ill intent. And the guard''s opinion of John would be influenced by this, without John ever having the ability to deny it. To disprove it.

    It made him feel small, almost. A feeling he wasn''t used to. People who had never met John would think less of him, simply because another had advised them to do so. Even if it were untruthful. And that hurt, he realized.

    What could he do about that, though? It wasn''t as though he could just go around telling everybody that he didn''t mean to bring them harm. He couldn''t blanket the town with the idea of his peaceful gesture. Was this something he just had to live with?

    Did the humans do this to each other, even? Speak ill of one another when they weren''t listening? Did they just allow it to happen, accepting it as a necessary evil? It was surprising to him, to think they could handle that amount of pressure.

    To know that somebody else would hate you, for no practical reason, simply because another person lied to them about you. And then to not feel bothered by that. To not be overwhelmed with frustration. It was difficult for John. But another thing the humans did that he would just have to accept.

    Perhaps he would just need to focus on who he knew, the people who came to see him. Though, the thief was one who came to see him as well. Did John overreact to the lie, he wondered. The thief was a thief, attacking John. But from the human''s perspective, perhaps a lie wouldn''t be considered a direct attack.

    From the thief''s perspective, perhaps they truly never did attack John. Thrown into prison for a silly story would be frustrating as well, he thought. It was difficult to accept, remembering the pain the thief put him through. But he had to, he thought. He was there to understand them, to learn about them.

    There were many things about the humans that he envied. Things he admired. Their ability to adapt, to change and grow. But there would be things he didn''t like, as well. Their greed, and deceit. The insatiable hunger for power. These were things he would have to accept too, he thought.

    This was what made them human. If you took away all of the bad, you would be left with but a shell of their former greatness. Their will and desires, removed. They wouldn''t be human were it not for their individuality. And he appreciated that, he found. That each of them is so different means he has many stories to learn from.

    A painful experience, without question. Both physically, and mentally. But he had quelled the turmoil raging inside of him, he understood better now. The thief was evil to John, and yet not evil to others. From one''s perspective, the thief was a thief, attacking an innocent owner to take what was not theirs. But from another, the owner was a horrible monster, defying logic and acting above their station.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He could understand the thief, though he did not like them.

    John''s view shifted, as the black space he floated through was replaced with his bookstore. Each book was right where he left it, not a speck of dust out of place. He unlocked his door and removed the spacial barrier he had put up, looking outside.

    It seemed different, he thought. The street looked cleaner. The buildings may have changed too, he thought. Though he never much cared for the surrounding buildings, his awareness rarely covered them, and even less frequently was his focus on them when it did.

    His building was still the same, and that was what mattered to him. He took in the sights, the black and white patterns bringing him back to the mindset of a bookstore owner. Somehow managing to instill in him the peace and tranquillity he found himself in while he helped customers.

    He took a walk down the street, wanting to find the furniture store he frequented. The streets seemed busier than he remembered. Perhaps there was an event going on, and travellers were coming to visit? He wasn''t sure, but he continued on as he ignored the stares and remarks of even more people than he was used to.

    It didn''t bother him as much now, he found. They would make their own opinions of him, but they didn''t matter. He would live his life and do as he wished, and there would be those who would respect it. He already had several customers coming back, and he would have even more in the future. People who would appreciate him and what he had to offer.

    Though, he wondered how long it had been since he was last open. Would any of the humans he helped be around anymore? The Vampire, he supposed, were she not to have been killed somewhere along the line. A thought that irked him, somehow. He still wasn''t sure why that bothered him as much as it did.

    He had thought about it a few times now, and nothing seemed to make sense to him. The merchant he met didn''t inspire the same feeling. If he were to die, John didn''t feel like he would be upset. There shouldn''t be a difference between them, John thought. And yet there was some strange pull to the girl that wasn''t there for any other. It made him uncomfortable, and yet he didn''t think he would ever truly understand it. Something inside him just seemed so confident of that whenever it came up.

    John arrived at the furniture store. Rolenda''s Works, the sign said. John wasn''t here for anything, however, so he turned around and headed back to his store. There were things he needed to get for his building, things that the furniture store may even have. But today was not the day for that, he didn''t think.

    He had just arrived back here, and he wanted to help a customer. The walk was pleasant, and he enjoyed seeing how much less the people bothered him now. But there was nothing more enjoyable than a good story from an interesting customer.

    There was somebody waiting outside his store when he got back. An older woman, leaning on a cane.

    "Hello," John said to her.

    "Oh hi there, you must be John?" The woman asked, her voice soft.

    "Yes, you want books?"

    "Oh my yes, I would love a book from you."

    John opened the door and led the woman inside, then sat down at his desk.

    The woman approached John, "I heard a lot about you growing up. A big ugly monster who will eat your soul if you don''t behave, Dad always said." She laughed, "He never seemed serious about it though. I think he liked you even, said you helped him learn how to knit."

    John thought about it, and there was a man who had wanted a book about knitting. He nodded his head.

    "You must not be much of a knitter then because he never managed to make anything functional. Lots of misshapen blankets though." She said with a chuckle. "Gramps met you too I heard. I never really knew him though, he passed while I was still very young."

    The man John gave a gift to? To think that both of those customers were speaking of the same child. The woman looked quite old now for a human, too. He wondered how long he had spent working through his emotions.

    "I walk down this street every day just to keep these old bones moving a bit. I never expected to see your store seem so... present, again. What a surprise. I''m glad I finally got to meet you."

    Glad to meet him? A pleasant thought, John felt. That somebody would appreciate the opportunity to meet him. It filled him with joy.

    "I guess I''ll buy a book of my own too, keep the family tradition going, right?" She smiled. "Something fun, maybe?"

    John waved his hand, filling the bookshelf near him with books of humour and fantasy. The woman pulled a book out at random and brought it to John''s desk.

    "No point wasting time picking when you''ve already done that for me, right?" She smiled, placing the book down in front of John. A supervillain who falls in love at a laundromat. Not horrible, John thought.

    "Mum ended up leaving when I grew up. Said she wanted to get back to adventuring again and then never came back. I don''t hold it against her, I think she would''ve come back if she could. She didn''t resent me, I don''t think anyway. Probably bit off more than she could chew, maybe made some mistakes after so many years of stagnation. Dad passed away a few years later. A work accident, apparently. They wouldn''t tell me the specifics even to this day.

    "I resent them a little for that. I think I deserve to know the specifics. But he was getting very successful towards the end of his days, taking on more expensive jobs from more influential people. Guess he too bit off more than he could chew. It''s why I''ve always stuck to the town. People say you can live forever if you get to a high enough level but I''ve lived a good life. And I''m still around for a while too.

    "I wanted to, when I was younger. Mum would share her stories, and I always wished to go see the sights for myself. But then the reality hits you. It''s dangerous, and there''s no guarantee you make it anyway. There''s safety here in town. More than outside at least. And I guess I''m just content with that now. A nice story, a cup of tea and a walk through town to say hello to some old friends is enough for me.

    "Well, thanks for the book, John. It was nice meeting you after so many years." She smiled at John and left with her book.

    He wondered why the woman didn''t just work on her classes in a safer manner. Humans lived long enough to get to a higher level even without the risk of danger. Perhaps they just didn''t have the resources necessary, or the knowledge to do so? It seemed as though she wished for a longer life, but didn''t want the risk that came with acquiring that through her own power.

    But could she not have taken a healing class and levelled safely within the town for her life? Could she not have taken on a cleaning class and kept the town clean? Even just level one hundred should extend your life by a substantial amount.

    Or perhaps she did, and it had just been much longer than John had thought. He wasn''t sure, but it didn''t matter either way. She seemed content with her life and John was happy for her.

 19. Johns Bunny

    John waited for a couple of hours, hoping for another customer to show up. None did, however. But that was okay, his shop had never been all that busy anyway and he already had one customer today.

    There were other things he wanted to do as well. He wanted to go shopping and buy some decorations for his walls¡ªpaintings or perhaps some shelves. Most people who came were still asking for specific things, and John would fill a bookshelf with their requests, so he wasn''t sure what benefit shelves would bring him.

    But they looked nice, they provided something of interest on the walls, breaking up the monotony. That was good, he thought. Maybe he would fill them with trinkets from his travels, or different genres of books? He wasn''t sure, but he knew he wanted something. Other shops had them, and his felt lacking now that he knew that.

    And so he left his store again, locking the door behind him as the enchantments flared with magic briefly. He set off down towards the center of town, towards the furniture store he frequented.

    The inside looked different, but that wasn''t unusual. It had been a long time since he came here. For humans, at least. For John, it was barely even worth mentioning.

    He walked around the store looking at their wares, the clerk at the other end of the store watching him with widened eyes. The first floor didn''t seem to have any organization, to John. It was a mishmash of different pieces. Shelves, chairs, light fixtures, and even some statues. A stark difference from the sectioned-off areas this store had last he was here.

    The second floor seemed more organized, which was curious to John. The first floor would be what people saw first, and he thought that would warrant some additional care. Perhaps there was something he was missing, or they had recently received a lot of furniture with nowhere to fit it?

    Walkways led through the second floor, with markings outlining areas for chairs, desks, tables, countertops and the like. Nothing of interest to John. He had a desk he quite liked and none of these chairs would fit him anyway.

    The third floor had more of what he was looking for and he wandered through the designated walkways looking through statues and paintings, ornamental hanging shelves and other fixtures he couldn''t quite understand. Perhaps statues, or perhaps chairs? He thought statues would make more sense considering the floor below had specific sections of chairs, but they looked quite similar.

    It didn''t matter anyway, he wasn''t here for statues. His floor was already filled with bookshelves and light fixtures, he needed things he could hang on his walls. And there were plenty of those to look at, hanging off the walls of the store or even small walls set up in the middle of the floor.

    Some of the paintings were interesting, he thought. Some magical nature to them, emotions and thoughts pushing out of them and drawing his attention. Nothing powerful, even for a weak human child. But it was certainly present, the paintings appearing to be more than they were. It made him wonder if the paintings also had entire worlds within them.

    Were there painters who had classes that let them enter paintings? Build up the world from within as though it were clay, possibly acting as some kind of god in the world of the painting? With what he had learned, he thought it would be possible.

    The thought of being a painting in a higher world didn''t bother him as much anymore. He had accepted his place in his world. He would live his life as best he could, and one day if the opportunity presented itself he would ascend, and continue on until he found an end. But for now, he would live here, content with what he had already.

    He took interest in a couple of the paintings that felt particularly serene to him, emotions of calm and patience pushing outwards from them. And then a handful of hanging shelves that looked quite similar to his standing shelves, with gold engravings he thought would serve a similar purpose. Though he decided he wouldn''t store books on them.

    John headed back downstairs and looked for the employee at the desk. "Hello, I would like to buy some ''urniture please."

    "Oh uh. Yes, I can do that. What are you looking for?" The employee said.

    "Shelves and paintin''s" John said and then led the man upstairs to the pieces he had chosen.

    "Uhh, those paintings are twenty gold each, and the shelves that you want are five. How many of them did you want exactly? The shelves, that is."

    John thought about his building and the empty walls. The paintings he would put up near the entrance, something to inspire peace with the people who walked in perhaps. The rest of the walls around the bookshelves would be more shelves, though without books. He didn''t want to fill the entire store with shelves, but maybe six of them spread out with some odd trinkets and the like on them would look fine?

    "Six," John said, handing the man seventy gold pieces.

    "Oh wow, okay. Yeah. Uhh, well you can take your paintings and the six shelves then I guess if you have a storage item then." The man said, watching John as the items vanished. "Thank you very much, have a nice day!"

    "You too," John said before he vanished, appearing back in his store. The walk through town didn''t bother him as much as it used to but he was still excited to furnish his store with what he bought.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    The two paintings he put up on either side of the door, in the hopes that the emotions they portrayed would help alleviate some of the fear people had of him when they came in. And the six shelves he spread out evenly through his store. Two each on the side walls, and two on the wall in the back. The front wall was decorated enough with paintings and windows, he thought.

    Deciding what to put on the shelves was more difficult, he found. There were many trinkets that would fit, but they needed to be interesting enough to display, but also clearly not available for sale. Though he supposed if somebody did want a trinket then he would sell it for a nice story anyway. So just something interesting then, and if they wished to buy it then they could. A good story was worth far more than most possessions he had after all.

    One of the shelves, he filled with various star-shaped objects he found in his travels. One gold star he placed front and center, a weak magic pulsing through it slowly, illuminating the others in a faint glow. He wasn''t sure what the magic did, but it was weak enough to be harmless he thought. The last thing he wanted to do was introduce some powerful curse to this world just to make his building a little nicer.

    Another shelf he filled with feathers of various colours. He embedded the tips of them into the wooden shelf so they seemed to stand on their own, as though the shelf was showing off its colourful plumage. Each feather felt like it contained some power, though nothing compared to even the paintings he bought earlier. Perhaps taken from some beast he slew, or from their hoard, he supposed. It looked nice, providing a flash of colour in his building.

    On another shelf, he placed flowers, each in their own ornate vase. Some of the vases were made of silver, others of crystal. Some of the flowers were colourful, with reds blues and greens filling the shelf. Some were black, some were white. And others seemed almost transparent from some angles. Some even seemed to be made of metal but felt softer than any of the others.

    The next shelf he filled with little statues of animals. He kept the more exotic ones to himself and only put out some of the more mundane animals. Cats and dogs, birds. Silver metal filling the shelf, each animal seeming almost lifelike. Carvings, he remembered. From one of the worlds he visited long ago. Sitting at the front of the shelf was a rabbit hopping through a small field of metal grass. He thought it fitting, with the rabbit on his door as well.

    The fifth shelf was filled with stones, gems and rocks that seemed to have some magical essence. And on the final shelf, he placed vials of liquids, all of different colours and opacity.

    He sat back down at his desk, satisfied with his work. His shop seemed complete now, somehow. Though he hadn''t considered wall decorations when he first bought the building either, so maybe there were other things he could still work on. But there was something about seeing everything he had been working on finished that made him happy. Perhaps the paintings helped that feeling along.

    A knock on the door reminded him that he hadn''t unlocked his shop after he came back, too preoccupied with setting up his new furniture. It was worth it anyway, he thought. There was something cathartic about setting up his new shelves, and it seemed he had a customer immediately afterwards anyway so it didn''t have any real impact.

    John walked up to his door and unlocked it, opening it up and letting the dwarven woman enter his building. She was almost as short as the child he had met so long ago, though she felt more mature. Aged. Neat brown hair tied in a braid falling down her back, black eyes staring up at John.

    "I been knockin'' on your damn door for ten minutes now. Are ya open or not?" The dwarf said to John.

    "I''m open,'' John said.

    "Good," The woman said, stomping her way through the store and looking at the books John had out.

    John returned to his desk and sat down, watching her walk through the rows, looking at each book''s spine and muttering something under her breath. She stopped when she got to the shelf with the carvings on it, staring at them for a few minutes.

    "Who made these?" She asked.

    "A carver," John said. The memory was still fresh in his mind, one of the few creatures he met in his travels that didn''t seem bothered by his presence at all. Completely consumed by their work. John traded some stories for the carvings, deciding they were worth keeping around. Maybe he would visit again, someday.

    "These''re CARVED?" She nearly screamed, "''Ow the ''ell you carve metal like this? Can I buy these?"

    John shook his head. There were few material possessions that he valued, but those carvings were one of them. Maybe he shouldn''t have put them up on display then, but it was a shame to keep them hidden forever.

    "A''right, ''ows about you show me where the books on local ores are then and I''ll take one o'' them." She said, walking back up to John''s desk.

    John waved his hand, filling the bookshelf near him with anything he had on local mines, caves, anything that would possibly lead to finding ore. He wondered if any of it was still relevant, seeing as it had been quite some time since he acquired them. But that was her problem, he supposed.

    She looked through the books for a while, picking one that outlined particularly dangerous caves in the area. Places that seemed to go deep underground that people couldn''t explore because of the dangers found that low.

    "Well ''tis an old one but maybe I''ll find somethin'', eh?" She held the book at her side. "So one story then?"

    John nodded his head.

    "Right, I come from far west, farther than any ''round here''s probably been. We''d been diggin'' deep, deeper than we ever went. Found a big ol'' vein of mithril we did and we didn''t stop for nothin'', no sir. Not when there''s blue gold right below our feet." She laughed.

    "Ah, but we should''ve. Realized too late that one, when we broke into a cavern, bigger''n any I''d seen before. Winged creatures cloaked in darkness flying through the hole we made eatin'' all of us like some kind of tasty snack. We blocked it off for the time being but some of us couldn''t give up the mithril. Kept arguing about just being more careful next time.

    "Well, I wasn''t havin'' any o'' that. So I left, came over here. Gonna start my own mine and never go that deep again. There''re creatures down there none of us can handle." She shook her head, "Well I''ll keep ya in mind if I strike it rich. Two percent discount on mithril, a''right? Thanks for the book." She laughed and left with her book in hand.

    John thought about the winged creatures she might have been talking about. He thought he''d seen something resembling the description, but there were many winged creatures deep underground, many of which were cloaked in darkness. When one lives in darkness, such an ability is only natural. She seemed afraid of the depths at least, though she picked out a book that seemed to lead her deeper than any here have gone.

    It confused him a bit, that she understood the dangers and yet chose to pursue it anyway. Greed? It didn''t seem like greed, it seemed more instinctual to John. Something drove her to dig, deeper and deeper. Despite her fears telling her otherwise. It was interesting to see, though he hoped she wouldn''t unleash some evil horror on the town. His bookstore was here and it would be bad if his customers were all killed off. Maybe he would check on her someday in the future.

 20. Johns Bird

    John waited at his desk for the customers to come in. There was nothing left for him to be working on anymore, so he could relax and enjoy his time in his new building. He was hoping that word would spread that John''s Books was once more open, and he would have some busy days ahead of him. Lots of stories to listen to and books to sell.

    A woman entered his store, a younger-looking woman wearing a clean white dress, flowing behind her lightly as she walked to the bookshelves.

    "Hello," she said.

    "Hello," John responded, watching her take her time looking at the books and trinkets John had on display.

    She paused for a while on the feathers, her eyes focused on one of the red feathers sticking out near the left of the shelf.

    "Where did you get these feathers, might I ask?" The woman reached for the feather, plucking it from the shelf.

    "Can''t remember, why?" John said.

    "Something so beautiful, and you can''t even remember where you got them." She seemed sad, looking at the feather she held in her hands. "Did you kill what this feather belonged to?"

    "Probably, can''t remember."

    "A shame, that its life would be cut so short and its body treated with such a lack of respect. Left to rot, stabbed into this bookshelf in the middle of nowhere." She turned to look at John, "Will you kill us too?"

    "Unsure, probably not."

    The woman laughed, turning back to the shelf of feathers. "Of course, we''re naught but toys for you to play with." She paused just before she stuck the feather back in the shelf. "Actually, might I purchase this instead of a book, I wonder?"

    "Yes, one story."

    She brought the feather to John''s desk, placing it down gently in front of him. She took a deep breath before she shared her story.

    "I once met a phoenix. One of the most beautiful creatures I''ve ever laid my eyes on, the flames that licked at its form inspired awe and fear. The power that radiated from it so effortlessly as it slept was mesmerizing, each breath it took felt as though the very air was burning.

    "But it was injured, somehow. I''ve no idea what could have possibly harmed it, but I could see the wounds on it so clearly. Fire leaking from its wings as though it were blood. I had no idea what to do, but it felt wrong somehow, to just leave it there to die. And so I waited, fending off what few creatures came to attack it in its weakened state.

    "Days passed, and then months. The wounds slowly closing over time. Until one day, it woke up. I didn''t even notice at first until I looked behind me, and I saw it standing tall, its bright red eyes open, staring at me.

    "I fell flat on my ass, almost frozen in fear. It leaned down and tapped my head with its beak, and I felt as though my very soul was burning. The pain was unlike anything I''ve ever experienced. And then when I came to again, the phoenix was gone."

    She reached out and grabbed the feather. "This reminds me of it, somehow. That faint magical heat that emanates from it just feels so familiar. I do hope you didn''t kill the phoenix I saved."

    "Probably not." He hadn''t slain any beings on this planet thus far. Perhaps the phoenix left this place and he killed it elsewhere, but that would have been long before he even came to this planet. And he wasn''t sure how old this woman was anyway, perhaps she was not even alive when the bookstore opened.

    "How old are you?" John asked.

    "I am seventy-three years old, why?" She said.

    John wasn''t sure how long it had been since he opened his bookstore. But he knew his first break had been a few years, and his second break had been long enough for a child to be born and grow old. He assumed that was at least seventy years.

    "Not the same, then," John told her.

    "I see. Well, I would still like it anyway, if my story was adequate?"

    "Yes. Thank you." John said.

    "No, thank you." She took the feather and left the store.

    John had met a few phoenixes in his travels, none of them particularly kind. Though he supposed he wasn''t either, at the time. It was surprising to him that one of them granted the woman a gift, a mere human blessed by an immortal.

    A phoenix'' immortality was never one John particularly appreciated though. They would rise again from the ashes and embers, but if you merely removed them then they would be snuffed out. Harmless pests, really. He couldn''t remember getting a feather from any of them though, that was something that was only given as a gift. After all, if you killed a phoenix you did not receive a corpse, you received ashes and embers.

    He wondered why the woman seemed to be drawn to the feather, but he couldn''t remember where it came from. Perhaps the phoenix she knew gave the feather to another being, and he had taken the feather from its hoard. Or perhaps there was something else that drew her to it. He wasn''t sure.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    But he was glad that he put up his shelves, and filled them with trinkets. To think that people would share stories for something like a feather. It was a nice surprise, though not quite as pleasant as trading books for stories. There was something about that which was indescribable to him, that he didn''t understand but certainly appreciated.

    Another customer entered his store, an older man, bald with a little gray stubble on his chin. He walked through the store, up and down each bookshelf before he pulled one down and brought it up to John''s desk. The book was one of monsters and doors, a one-eyed creature getting pulled along by the rapid changes their society faced.

    The man looked at John for a moment, before John felt a sudden surge of information flood his mind. Telepathy, he realized. How interesting that a human of all things would be doing this. He quickly sectioned the information off, before he looked through it.

    It was a jumbled mess, the man''s finesse paling in comparison to anything John had seen before. But for a human, this was certainly impressive. Enough on its own, and yet he had a story to examine as well.

    John pulled the thought apart, organizing it as best as he could before he started to work through it.

    <hr>

    The man sat in a forest, upon a fallen tree. The remains of a campfire smouldering in front of him, a chunk of meat resting in the center of it. Fat dripped off, the fire flaring everywhere that it hit the hot coals.

    He took a deep breath, the smell of the meat deeply satisfying to him. He wasn''t the best cook around, but there was something about cooking it yourself, enjoying the smells of it all that satisfied him. The experience made it all worth it, even if the end product wasn''t as good as something he might buy from a fancy restaurant in town.

    He felt a surge of power come from his left and turned his head, seeing a large form towering over him. Their skin was green, almost mouldy. They looked down on him as he sat and breathed out. Their breath was rank, smelling of rot and death.

    The being turned its head towards his campfire, and the man felt a wave of sadness cover the forest, almost suffocating him.

    "Did you slay this creature?" The being asked him.

    "Yes, it attacked me and I defended myself." The man responded, sweat beading on his brow as the sadness grew more intense. Pressing down on him from all sides.

    "I curse you, human. For one with a tongue as yours, and the need for flesh to consume, may you never open your mouth again. Your voice never to be heard, nor the taste you desire ever felt once more. Live a life of pain and despair, and may you learn the error of your greedy ways, human. Never bother that which is not yours again."

    The being left as quickly as it came, the sadness that overwhelmed the man vanishing with it. The man tried to gasp for breath, but his mouth would not open. No matter how hard he tried, it would not move.

    He looked at his food, cooking on the fire. The smell almost hurt him now, the knowledge that he had spent all this time cooking it, anticipating it. Longing for the sweet reward at the end, and yet he would never have it again.

    <hr>

    The man looked at John, and then at the book.

    John nodded his head, and the man grabbed the book and then left. A vague feeling of gratefulness entered John''s mind.

    How interesting, John thought. That a human would be forced to resort to telepathy just to communicate. He wondered if the human''s telepathy would be weak enough to communicate with the average human, or if he would run into the same problems John had. John wondered if he could even reduce his telepathy down enough to not bother the average human. What if he were to send only memories of words, one at a time, as though he were speaking directly into somebody''s mind.

    It was something he hadn''t thought of before, but he supposed it could work. In theory, it shouldn''t be any more information than if their brain were to just hear the sound itself. Of course, telepathy had more complications than that, with the memories being directly inserted instead of heard. But it was something worthy of testing.

    He also wondered about the being the man had met. He didn''t recognize it, even though he had seen the entirety of the world before. He didn''t focus on every individual being when he extended his awareness that far, but he thought he would still recognize something like that. And yet he didn''t.

    John also didn''t notice any curse placed on the man, he seemed perfectly fine. Maybe he had resolved the curse by now, and merely relies on telepathy since it is more convenient? That would make sense, John believed the same as well.

    But it was still curious, what that being was, and how it cast the curse. John didn''t feel any magic being cast, but he supposed the man could''ve just not been powerful enough to notice it too. It wasn''t something John could do, though he never claimed to be a masterful mind mage either. His domain was that of space.

    He spent the next few hours thinking about the creature and what it might have been, none of his memories seeming to line up quite well enough. He knew it wasn''t a lie, that wasn''t something that could be done with a memory like this. It would be obvious to John that it was manufactured, though it could be that his memory had changed too. Curious, at any rate. Something to maybe look for later.

    John turned his attention to the customer in his store. They came in a few minutes earlier, a younger human in brown pants and a white shirt. They wore a leather cap, hiding their hair beneath it. They ran through the bookshelves, giggling to themselves as they picked up some books and put them back.

    They brought one of the books up to John''s desk, reaching a little to place it in front of him. It was one of a gorilla and mashed potatoes. A strange one, John thought.

    "This one please!" The younger human said.

    "One story per book," John said.

    "Oh. Uhh. Everybody always calls me a girl but I don''t really think I''m a girl? What does being a girl mean anyway? I like what boys do a lot more but everybody says that''s weird. Is that weird?" The human asked.

    John shook his head. Gender was something he never understood much anyway, why they drew these lines, defining what each of them could, or should do. And for what purpose? Perhaps they had different biological needs, but he wondered why that meant that the girls should be left to cook, and the men to hunt. Or vice-versa in other cultures. There didn''t seem to be any consistency to it, either. Sometimes men were the strong protectors, sometimes the women were.

    "Really? You don''t think it''s weird that I wear boy clothes?" The human asked.

    John shook his head again.

    "Yay! I guess that''s not a good enough story, is it?" The human asked.

    John shook his head, he liked the child but if they didn''t think it was good enough, then it would not be.

    "Okay, umm. One time we were out in the forest. We''re not supposed to be, they say there are dangerous monsters out there. But I''ve never seen any before and it''s a lot of fun to explore. We found this place that seemed kinda weird. Like it was there, but it wasn''t? I dunno what it was but it was super cool. Is that one enough?" The human asked.

    John nodded his head. The human took the book and ran out of the store.

    He wondered what the human meant by an area that was there, but it wasn''t. Perhaps something he could go check out himself if it was enough for a mundane child to notice.

 21. Johns Reference

    John was interested in the space that was there, but not there, according to the child. He had a hunch about where it could be, thinking back to the rift that he closed so very long ago.

    He got up and locked his door, the enchantments glowing for a moment as his windows were blocked off. His awareness extended, covering the forest nearby, looking for the familiar location.

    There was something odd about it, he noticed. A shimmer of sorts, left in space. His surroundings shifted as he teleported to it. The power was palpable, a wall holding something back with all it could, stretching forward into John''s universe.

    He focused on the space, trying to understand what was happening. He could see glimpses of the other side as the very air seemed to stretch. It felt like he was looking through a very thin fabric that was being stretched a bit too far.

    The fabric he recognized as being his attempt at stitching up the hole. It seemed intact still, which John was pleased with. It had held up well enough, and he thought he would know if there were any breaches. But it wouldn''t hold for much longer, he didn''t think.

    John wasn''t sure what to do about that. On the one hand, he could push it back, try and repair it again. But that would be more patchwork, and he would have to keep repairing it constantly over the years, until either he understood it well enough to fix it properly, or it resolved itself.

    On the other hand, he could remove his work, opening the rift and work to stabilize it. Create something that would be a more permanent means of travel between the universes. But he didn''t see how that would be safe, for either the residents of this universe or the other.

    The ideal would be if he could now find some way to remove it in a more permanent manner, perhaps leaving a small backdoor for him to use at a later date. But he wasn''t sure how to do that. He already thought he had done an excellent job before, that it had returned so quickly was a surprise for him.

    To start with, he thought that his previous work needed to be undone. It was clear that it wouldn''t hold, and he would rather start anew. But if he simply removed it, the power oozing forth from this rift might cause an explosion of energy.

    John set up a spatial barrier around the area, the air seeming to tremble as it was separated from the outside world. He didn''t know what energies were pushing forth from this, but he hoped it wouldn''t be enough to breach space itself.

    And then he focused on a small point on the patchwork covering the rift, working to drill a hole through it and allow the energy to escape in a controller manner. As soon as he breached, a force of energy broke through, destroying what was left of his previous work, a rift left to another world in its place.

    A familiar energy, John realized. Mana, the very same energy that coursed through this universe and sustained him. Potent and powerful.

    He peered through the rift, seeing the other side. It wasn''t the same view as before, however. It looked similar, a room filled with furniture he didn''t recognize. But it was decidedly different.

    The walls were a different colour, the layout was different. The very size of the room was completely changed, looking almost twice as large now. The only similarity was how unfamiliar everything he saw was. There were no people on the other side that he could see, nobody sitting in the chair, or resting in the bed.

    The risk was worth it now, he thought. He was almost certain the world had mana, that he could sustain himself in it. For a time, at least. There didn''t seem to be any immediate dangers in the area. Perhaps there would be magical enchantments, notifying some higher powers when he arrived.

    But the risk was worth it, he decided. The chance to explore another world, to see things he would never be able to see otherwise.

    He stepped through the rift and was immediately overwhelmed with a feeling of suffocation. He could feel the mana present in the air around him, but it was lacking. It felt as though he had just left the ocean and entered a small pond.

    His health was dropping, unable to keep himself alive anymore. He focused on the space around him, twisting it to form a point, a reference of sorts for him to use later. There was nothing stopping him from teleporting here without it, but having a point of reference would make it a lot easier he thought. Something for his spell to latch on to.

    And then he stepped back through the rift, feeling once more filled with life. Sustained.

    There was testing to be done, now. He had realized that the rift had two sides. An obvious fact, perhaps. But one that he had forgotten in his disappointment before. If he wanted the rift to be closed and not overflow from one side, it needed to be closed from the other side.

    But he also needed to know that he could get back if he were to close the rift from the other side. Lest he end up trapped and forgotten in a universe nobody knew about.

    John repeated the steps he took before, stitching the rift together, the other universe disappearing from his sight. He focused on the point he formed, seeing it was still available. He tried to teleport a nearby stick to it, and it vanished.

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    He formed another reference point outside the rift, and then pulled the stitches apart, opening it once more. On the other side was the same stick that he teleported, sitting on the wooden floor.

    Satisfied with his tests, he stepped through the rift again. The feeling of suffocation was something he was better prepared for this time. He picked up the stick and threw it back to his side.

    John worked to stitch the rift together again, his universe disappearing in front of him. A strange feeling, to know that he was in an entirely different universe, with almost no way back. If his plan didn''t work, he would die. He was certain of that.

    But it was necessary, he thought. To ensure the rift wouldn''t propagate and cause problems. He recognized the hypocrisy, of saving a reference point in this universe while he closed it off to prevent infiltration. But he wasn''t above being a hypocrite.

    He wanted to ensure the safety of his universe, of his bookstore. But he also wanted to explore this universe himself, if he could. He wasn''t sure he would ever find a way to do it, but he wanted to keep the option available.

    His view shifted, as he teleported back outside the rift to the point he created. John quickly removed the point, returning the space to how it was, and then looked at the rift.

    It looked strange from this side. He could still see through it, to the other universe. But there was just nothing there. It felt as though he was looking through an almost entirely transparent piece of glass. There was something there, and yet there was not. An apt description the child gave, he found.

    For the third time today, he repeated the steps of stitching the rift together, closing it off. It felt more final this time, but John thought it felt final last time as well. He hoped it would work out better now, with both sides having been closed off.

    John focused on the stick he teleported before, trying to teleport it back to the same point in the other universe. The stick vanished once more, and he hoped that meant his teleport would still work despite the rift being closed. Something he would test himself later if he ever found a way to sustain himself without the need for mana. Or at least, with much less mana.

    He teleported back to his bookstore, unlocking the door as the enchantments dulled and vanished, and then sat back down at his desk. John wondered how he could manage to survive without mana.

    Perhaps he could bring along an alternate source of mana. A crystal or something that he could siphon from, but one large enough to sustain him for longer periods of time wouldn''t be sustainable. He could bring along many smaller ones and cycle them out, but it seemed tedious and the cost of teleporting mana in and out of his [Storage] rarely made it make sense.

    Teleporting a large crystal could be viable as he could send it over first, recover his resources and then send himself over. But needing to constantly switch out crystals wouldn''t make any sense.

    No, mana crystals would not be enough, he thought. It would either be too large to accomplish anything, or too much effort to accomplish anything else. He needed another solution, some way of making himself require less mana. But he wasn''t sure how to do that.

    "Hello," a woman said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

    "Oh. Hello," John responded.

    "I''m looking for some fun stories, do you have anything like that? Fiction, I guess." The woman said.

    John waved his hand and filled the bookshelf near him with fictions of varying genres. Fantasy, adventure, romances and comedies flew out from him and placed themselves on the shelf.

    The woman thanked John and walked over, looking through the books. She would pick up a book and flip to a page at random, reading a few of the paragraphs and then place it back on the shelf. One of the books she flipped through a couple more pages, and then brought it up to John''s desk and placed it in front of him.

    It was a story set at the bottom of the sea, showing the life of various sea creatures and one curious squirrel as they lived their mundane lives. A bit nonsensical, but if that was something she wished for John thought it might be enjoyable.

    "I''ll take this one please," the woman said.

    "One story, please," John said.

    "Oh, yes. Well, I was out doing a job I got from the adventurer''s guild a few years back. Apparently, some smith needed the eggshell of a roc for a piece they were working on. There was no time limit, and it was big money. So I figured if it was just getting the remnants of an eggshell, how dangerous could it be right?

    "Well, quite dangerous, as I found out. Apparently, rocs tend to eat their shells when they''re born. Before they even break out, they''re eating it. And rarely do they hatch without the parent nearby. It took weeks just to even find one nest with eggs in it, and then weeks more of stalking it just to see them hatch. And only then did I discover that they eat their damn eggs.

    "I mean, imagine just sitting there, seeing it hatch. Excited to be able to wait for them to leave and then go pick up your riches. And then it just eats it all. All your gold just gone, like that." She snapped her fingers.

    "There were still some other eggs that hadn''t yet hatched though, so I waited around some more. Only a few days until the next one hatched, and it also ate its shell immediately. The mother was sitting over it, watching intently so I didn''t dare try to take part of the shell.

    "Then a few days later, a chance presented itself. I saw the final egg start to move, and I knew it was about to hatch. The mother was off hunting, and I knew it would be back in twenty minutes at most. I moved in, slowly. And the chick broke out of the shell, munching away.

    "I could reach out and touch the shell, it was right there. I could''ve taken it. But then the little chick looked at me, with big black eyes. And it chirped. It chirped at me. My heart sank.

    "This poor little thing that just came to life moments ago, with its parent somewhere far away unable to protect it, chirping away happily at me. It was the cutest thing I''d ever seen. I couldn''t take its shell, the first meal it would ever have. I''m not a monster.

    "And so I sat down next to it, keeping an eye out for any predators that might come looking for an easy snack. And then I saw the mother returning off in the distance, a small speck that grew quickly. And I ran away, leaving the shell behind. Somebody else could get the smith his eggshell.

    "I had a new appreciation for the monsters we hunt after that. They have their own lives, and they''re all beautiful in their own way. If only there were a way for us to coexist more freely, but alas, it''s just not the way it goes. Oh well. Thanks for the book anyway!" She said and vanished as quickly as she seemed to appear.

    John could relate to the woman''s story. He too had chosen to slow down and appreciate the smaller species, it was why he had started the bookstore in the first place. To think that a human of all things had a story he could relate to so strongly. An interesting woman, he thought.

    He wondered what life would be like if more creatures held similar beliefs. Homogenous, he supposed. The only reason humans were so interesting to him was because they were so different from each other.

 22. Johns Flowers

    John sat at his desk, his mind wandering back to how he could sustain himself in a universe without enough mana. He supposed he could take his time and slowly fill the universe with enough mana to sustain him, but what would that do to this universe?

    If he transferred the mana over until it was enough, would it drain this universe? Or did this universe have some mana creators that would fill it back up with enough time? He had never thought about the origin of mana before, it had always just been present. Were the beings in this universe slowly consuming the mana, and we''d eventually run out? Is that what happened to the other universe?

    Or was it being recycled, maintaining equilibrium for eternity, and the other universe just happened to have less of it? Or perhaps the other universe didn''t have less of it at all, but only the spot where he made it through had less. He couldn''t extend his awareness out very far, all of his focus was on closing the rift and returning safely. Perhaps he could send a large mana crystal over just to have something to draw from as a first venture, letting him view the area around him more safely.

    He summoned a large blue, near-transparent crystal into his store, the space warping and expanding to accommodate it in his small building. The mana in the area rushed forth, filling the crystal as it slowly became bluer and more solid.

    When the crystal was filled, the mana settled. And John pushed the crystal to his reference point in the other universe, draining almost all of his remaining mana.

    A customer entered the store, a taller man with black hair reaching down his back.

    "Hey, you got any gardening books?" The man asked John.

    John was perturbed. On the one hand, a customer was here. On the other, he just sent a giant crystal through space to another universe and desperately wanted to check on it. His store came first, though, and he waved his hand to fill the nearby bookshelf with everything he had on gardening.

    "Woah, alright cool. I''m looking for like, novice ones? Do you have those?"

    With another wave of John''s hand, the majority of the books floated back to him, vanishing once they were near.

    "Nice. Thanks, man." The man walked over and picked up a few of the books, flipping through the pages quickly and pausing on any illustrations that showed up. He settled on one and brought it to John''s desk.

    "This one seems good." The man placed a book in front of him. A book authored by a lady who really loved her flowers, helping people take care of their own, and spreading the love of plants. A faint aura of magic seemed to surround it. He couldn''t tell what it did, but it didn''t seem harmful.

    "I never used to care about the plants and stuff, to be honest. Like, they were just green stuff on the ground, y''know? But then I saw this one flower and it just, like, enraptured me? It was beautiful.

    "I still don''t really care about most of the plants though. I mean I guess I have a new appreciation for them but grass is just grass, y''know? But I guess I realized that there are more too, and some of them are super cool. I wanna grow some of them, but every time I tried they died.

    "So I was like hey why don''t I start really slow at the start and do something more simple, and then work my way up right? That makes sense. So here I am. One day I''m gonna have a really beautiful garden, with trees and flowers and bushes and it''ll be awesome. But for now, I guess I grow grass or something. I don''t really know, that''s why I want the book." The man looked around the store as he talked, his gaze settling on the shelf of flowers John had set up.

    "Woah! What are all of those?" The man asked, his voice filled with excitement.

    "They''re ''lowers," John said.

    "Yeah I mean I get that but like, what kind? Where''d you get ''em? Those are super cool. How are you keeping them alive when they''re picked up like that?"

    John hadn''t thought about it. They were just flowers, but he supposed it was strange that they never seemed to lose their beauty. Most organic things tended to die when left alone, and yet these were still fine. Well, he kept them in his [Storage] for most of the time, but it wouldn''t have been strange to see some manner of decay by now, he thought.

    "I don''t know," John said.

    "Wow, they''re super cool though. Maybe I can grow some of them someday. That''d be really cool." The man said, walking towards the door. "Well for now I gotta get started on grass or whatever though I guess. Thanks for the book man, see ya around!"

    John watched him leave. A strange fellow, he thought. But everybody had their thing. John liked to sell people books, the man liked to grow grass? He wasn''t really sure what the man''s goal was exactly. A big garden, he thought. But he seemed to have an obsession with grass too.

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    John had never tried gardening before, there was no point to it he thought. The flowers looked pretty, but interesting stories were much prettier. Would people pay for flowers, he wondered? The man seemed interested in the flowers he had on display but didn''t try to buy them.

    His mana filling up reminded him of what he was doing. He had a giant crystal sent off to another universe that he had to check on. John got up and locked his door once more, and then focused on creating a new reference point in his shop. Something to return to, in a known place instead of out in the middle of the forest. And then he teleported himself to the other universe.

    The mana crystal didn''t quite fit in the room, he noticed. The top of it displaced some of the ceiling, revealing the sun shining through above. The pain set in immediately, but John was prepared and he slowly drained mana from the crystal. It wouldn''t last forever, but it would give him enough to last a while.

    As the mana surged into him from the crystal, the pain subsided, and his awareness extended. He was in a house, he realized. A very large house, a mansion, perhaps? There weren''t any people inside at the moment though.

    His awareness extended even further, the mansion surrounded by other similar-sized mansions. Each one was just as big, and few had anybody inside. There were people outside, however. Walking down the... road? There was some gray stone between the mansions, with a slightly depressed section in the center that had lines drawn down the center of it. People walked on some of the raised gray stone at the sides but stayed off the center. Some kind of machine propelled itself down the center, though John couldn''t tell exactly what they were.

    Everything felt mundane to him. There was a distinct lack of magic anywhere he looked. Even as he extended his awareness further, it was just more of the same. Strange gray roads flanked by mansions. Eventually, something different appeared. A large gray building with hundreds, maybe thousands of people walking around. A large black square with many lines, the same machines sitting still within the lines. Strange, he thought.

    Interesting, but strange. It was all so very different from anything he had seen before. The density of the population was incredible, there were more people in that one building than the entire town John''s bookstore was set up in. And yet, even as he extended his awareness further and further, the mana seemed constant. Low. Unsustainable.

    It saddened him, but he would find another solution then. The knowledge that the mana seemed to be consistently low was still progress, he thought. He searched for an area with a low population, somewhere that he could place another reference point without it being inside somebody''s house. There was a forest nearby that he saw. Animals prowling it, searching for sustenance of some form or another. But n people.

    He drained the crystal, its blue quickly fading to translucent, and then placed it in his [Storage] and teleported to the forest. Another reference point was formed, and then John teleported back to his bookstore and unlocked the door.

    The thing that interested him the most was that he never saw even the faintest remnants of magic. He didn''t think that he had seen the entire world, perhaps in other sections of the world magic was present. Or perhaps the rest of the universe. But the mana was far too limited for him to see very far. Even still, it was the first time John had ever seen an area with life¡ªcreatures, but no magic.

    And yet, the world seemed so advanced. So very many people, and not one seemed malnourished or dangerously ill. They seemed even overnourished at times, he thought. For that many people to be fed in such excess without the use of magic. It was incredible. He wished to see more of it, but unless he wanted to keep hopping back and forth with a crystal, slowly inching his way around the world, he needed to find a more permanent solution.

    It was good to know that for sure, no more doubts, or thoughts that maybe he could find a place that would sustain him. Even if he could, he would still wish to explore the lower-density areas himself without risk of death.

    Another customer entered his store, a taller woman. Her short blonde hair was tied in a small ponytail behind her head.

    "Hello," John greeted her.

    "Oh, hi there. I heard you have flowers on display? Where are they? Ah, I see over here." She walked over to the display, gently touching the silver flower that stood prominently at the front. "Are these for sale, too?"

    "Not that one but the rest," John said.

    "Oh lovely, they''re quite beautiful you know. I think I''ll take this one, then." She grabbed a yellow flower with blue thorns and brought it to John''s desk.

    "One story please," John said.

    "Ah yes of course. Well, I wrote a book many years ago. You sold one quite recently, I understand. My class allows me to see the area around any book I author, while it is being read, you see. Most of the time I ignore it, but today I took a peek. And I saw some quite beautiful flowers, so I came by to take a look for myself. Divination is never quite the same as seeing something with your own eyes, but you''ll rarely hear one of us admit such a thing. I''m glad I did, these are remarkable. Where did you get them from?"

    "I don''t know."

    "A shame, that. Well, I will have to content myself with just this flower for now I suppose, then. Thank you." The woman vanished.

    John realized that was the magic he felt from the book, the woman peering through it at his shop. He wasn''t sure how to feel about that. Of course, anybody could enter his shop if they wished and look around. But for it to be done through one of his books? He wondered if any of his other books were also looking at him.

    Of course, he had no doubts that when he locked his store their attempts would be blocked. So it was only when he was open that they could see. And was that a problem? He was open, after all. He decided it wasn''t, if it led to more people coming to share stories with him. Though if their stories were just that they''re spying on him, perhaps it would no longer interest him.

    For now, it was certainly interesting. A thought he hadn''t had before pleased him, even if it concerned him as well. He wondered if he took the book with him to the other universe, if the woman would be able to see through it while he read still. He hadn''t thought about divination magic before, but perhaps it could be used to explore another world without actually having to be there yourself. His [Runic Inscribing] may be able to help him there, if he could find some way of creating a divination rune. His awareness had always been enough for him so he never tried it, but maybe he would give it some thought if he couldn''t think of another option.

 23. Johns Conclusion

    John sat at his desk, looking at his books, wondering if any others might possess some form of magic. And some did, he found, though none of which he was able to identify the purpose of. It didn''t bother him, knowing somebody might be seeing his shop right now. If anything, he welcomed it. It was free advertising, he thought.

    His thoughts wandered to the other universe he had witnessed. Without magic, he wondered how he would be able to effectively communicate with them. Telepathy would be off the table, the humans here struggled with it, let alone in a universe with so little magic.

    He wondered what their defences would be like, anyway. If they had no need for magic, would they be less resilient to magic? Or would their very being reject it, immune to the ill effects of one such as he? It was so different from anything he had known before, anything could happen, he thought.

    But at the very least, he needed to be able to speak to them. Communicate with them, and he figured telepathy wouldn''t work either way. They would be destroyed by the memories, or unable to process them. Neither conducive to his goal of learning about their lives.

    And so he thought about his voice magic. He felt pretty good about it at this point, though a few letters still seemed to give him pause. ''F'', ''V'' and ''G'' weren''t replicable for him yet, and he would often omit the sounds in the hopes that people could piece together what he meant anyway.

    Perhaps he could find a similar sound, but he wondered what would be considered a similar sound anyway. Depending on the species and their language, or even just how their ears worked, would the same sounds be similar for everybody? He wasn''t sure, and it made more sense to just omit them.

    John had been paying attention to the people who came into his shop, trying to figure out the sounds, and he thought he had a good working theory. ''F'' seemed to be a more open ''S'', less harsh and piercing, the air flowing a little more freely but still restricted enough to sound sharp and present. ''V'' was the same sound but with the muscles in the throat restricted to vibrate at the same time. And ''G'' was a vibrated ''K'' sound.

    He formed his spatial voice construction and practiced all the letters in the alphabet, and he found that each one sounded passable. To him, at least, and he hoped that meant the same for others. He would need to test it at some point, but even so far it seemed as though he was getting the job done well enough.

    It was pleasing to him, knowing how frequently he had been conversing with people, with speech. Actual voiced, audible words. To the people he spoke with it might seem like such a small thing, and yet to John, it was something to be proud of.

    It was time for another visit to the other universe, he thought. He wanted to meet a person and see how they reacted to him. Would they be scared? Would they be able to communicate with him? Would they even speak the same language, or was he wasting his time learning this one? The people looked the same to him, so at worst, he would already know how to produce a voice, if not the language itself.

    He wondered what it would mean for his universe if this other one did speak the same language, for that matter. What were the chances that two separate universes ended up creating identical languages? Miniscule, John thought. And so if they did speak the same language, what exactly did that mean? A coincidence? John thought it much more likely that his universe would be manufactured by someone in their world. Or perhaps vice-versa.

    John summoned his large crystal, the space once more warping to contain it within his building. And he let it charge, teleporting it to his point in the forest and then himself as well when his mana recovered.

    The scenery was identical, he found. Though he hadn''t been gone for very long either. His awareness extended, looking for somebody alone who he could speak to and maybe garner some useful information from. He found one girl, walking through the forest not too far from where he was.

    John appeared in front of the girl. "Hello, I''m John."

    The girl screamed and ran away. The people here would be afraid of him, he supposed. It made sense, if the universe didn''t have magic a being like himself wouldn''t be able to sustain themselves and they would never have to interact with much more than mundane animals. To suddenly see John would be a shock, he thought.

    Though that didn''t stop him, as he returned to his crystal and expanded his awareness once more to look for another he could speak with. There was a man in the forest as well, and he teleported in front of the man.

    "Hello, I''m John," he spoke.

    The man also screamed and ran away. Frustrating, John thought. Knowing these people were so close, and yet he was so far away from communicating with them. He couldn''t even tell if they would understand him or not. Perhaps the language he was using was what was scaring them, and not his form, though he doubted it.

    Still, he wanted to test it and repeated the process. Finding another man walking through the forest and teleporting in front of him, with the same result.

    Disappointing, John thought. But he would find a solution at some point, if nothing else he could eventually find a way to survive here more long-term and watch them from a distance. But for now, his mana was draining and the crystal was running out. He drained what little was left, and stored it away, teleporting himself back to his shop.

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    A familiar customer was there, browsing through his books.

    "Oh hey John, where''ve you been?" The Vampire asked him, exuding a power unlike any he had felt on this planet before. He had met more powerful humans even, and yet she stood with such confidence. Something about her just oozed power. It was curious, John thought.

    John wasn''t sure how to respond. Did he want to tell the girl that he had been to her world? That he could travel there freely now, even if he couldn''t stay forever? Would she want to return? He wasn''t sure, but he again felt a strange pull. Something urging him not to share it with her.

    "I was exploring the universe," John said. He wasn''t lying, he just didn''t mean this universe.

    "That sounds exciting. I''ve been sitting in a cave practicing my magic for a while." A surge of cold expanded out from her before it quickly dissipated. "Not quite as exciting but I like seeing the numbers go up.

    "You''ve been closed for a while, and I just heard tale of a monster opening up a bookstore again. Thought it might be you, and it was. You left the door unlocked y''know?" She looked up from the book she was reading.

    "Oh. Thank you," John was thankful nothing had seemed to be stolen while he was gone. "Did you need a book?"

    "Oh, no. I guess I''ll buy one just to share another story. But honestly, I''m more interested in these vials though if they''re up for sale?" She walked over to the shelf holding vials of various liquids.

    "Yes," John said.

    "Awesome, any of them got some super cool effects? Make me really strong, or fast, or something? Or good for resistances maybe?"

    "I don''t know, sorry."

    "That''s too bad. Guess they''re all just as good then," She grabbed one of the dull blue vials from the back of the shelf. "This one, I guess. Hope they''re not more powerful the brighter they glow."

    "I wouldn''t know," John said. Potions and elixirs had never really interested him, made for beings much lesser than him. Poisons would hardly affect him and even if they boosted his power, the effect would be minimal if it even affected his body in the first place. Perhaps if he had many many potions, but he didn''t strive for power anymore, his level long since having stagnated even with the constant destruction.

    "Guess I''ll find then, that sounds exciting. Think it''ll kill me?"

    "I don''t know."

    "Wow you really just don''t know anything about the stuff you sell, do you? Is this just a hoard you stole or something?"

    "Mostly, yes."

    "Oh. I didn''t actually expect that. Huh. Do you still go stealing stuff these days?"

    "No."

    "Well that''s good then, don''t have to worry about my vast wealth being ripped from my hands I guess." She pulled out a small almost empty pouch and laughed. "Not that I have much at the moment anyway.

    "Alright, so a story. I''ve got a good one saved up just for you. But I think every story is good for you, it''s not even about being a great story, is it? You just want to learn more, right? If it''s something you haven''t heard before, it must be interesting?"

    John nodded his head.

    "Hah, yeah I thought as much. You probably have no idea how much that means to people, y''know? We always lack somebody who can just genuinely find everything we talk about interesting. Always wanting more, never interjecting with their own thing.

    "But anyway, I''ve got a good one for you. Had a lot of time to think about it."

    A flood of thought pressed into John''s mind, as the girl smiled.

    "Surprised?" She asked.

    John nodded his head. He remembered her shuddering, convulsing in pain over a much smaller packet of information being sent to her. And yet here she was, perhaps a hundred years or more later capable of so much. He felt almost proud, in a way. To see her at the beginning of her journey, and to see where she had ended up.

    "Well, you have fun poking through all that. I''m gonna go drink this blue glowing mud stuff." The girl vanished, but John wasn''t bothered. He had something else to focus on.

    He worked through the thoughts, a jumble of memories. Little organization, though it seemed that was almost intentional. Each piece he broke up revealing something new about the girl''s world.

    The machines that flew down the roads were vehicles. Cars, trucks, vans. Even motorcycles. Signs to label the streets, and the speed limits.

    The large square he saw was a parking lot, outside of a mall. The vehicles would be parked in designated spots, and the people could leave to go shopping for whatever they needed. All available at the tips of their fingers.

    He saw the smart light she mentioned much earlier on, a bright bulb powered by electricity that she could control via her smartphone. A kind of brick with near-unlimited potential held within it.

    Televisions, computers, wars, internet. It was overwhelming, to see so much of this other universe. They lacked magic, and yet they had progressed so much in other matters. John wondered if he could replicate half of what he saw, and he thought it unlikely.

    Much of it was worse than what they had here. The wealthy had holograms, which were vastly superior for the display of information. A map on a screen was great, but a three-dimensional replica of it was significantly more useful.

    Same with the vehicles. They were fast without the use of magic, but this world would hardly benefit from their introduction. Enchanted carriages pulled by strong horses were far faster, and people could often teleport or run faster. Besides, in this universe, there was no need for significant long-distance transportation available to the masses.

    Everything a person would usually need was within their town. And if they needed to leave, they usually had the money to pay for faster transportation anyway. Though, if it were more accessible, perhaps the wilderness would be more inhabited. But would that be a good thing?

    The girl''s world seemed overrun by humans, few other species able to remain in the face of their absolute reign. In this world, there was much more diversity. Though also much more dangerous. He wondered what most people would think about it. The safety of being on top, or the excitement of being in the middle? He thought most would prefer the safety, very little outweighed one''s desire to live.

    Electricity seemed interesting to him, not being a replacement for what they already had but a side grade. Mana could probably do anything it could do, perhaps even better. But in a situation where the mana is already being used?

    Her memories of the mana in her world were non-existent. John wasn''t sure if she just didn''t share them, or if they weren''t there in the first place. But it made him question how she survived in the world without mana. Did they just require so little mana that they could survive off what was present?

    He thought back to the girl, and how she affected the mana around her. He didn''t recall her ever pulling in mana, but there was always a sense of power that seemed to ooze from her. He thought it was her auras, but perhaps it was her releasing excess mana? Did her species slowly create mana, filling the air around them with it? If they could do that, then so could he.

    He focused inwards, cancelling all of his auras and dropping his mana usage as far as he could. He tried to focus on recycling the air around him, turning it back to mana.

    *Ding* Your understanding grows. Level 51.

    John smiled.