Library;
or,
Fleeting Shadow Puppets
You know you are in the library by the soft rustling of turning pages and the sharp smell of old books. Upon these tall shelves are stories, whether told in the prose word or by picture panels. Dive into other worlds, peculiar lives, cold moments, and meandering thoughts.
Click on any available link for your preferred method of reading the story. Any comics are provided with image descriptions in the format of a narrative.
Qubaataya Ihechio of the spiraling trunk of the water-tree on the bank of the lake where flowers grow reigned from the Shina years 261 to 287-- though perhaps reigned is not the correct word, for the laketop and lakebottom Qubaatayaat work in tandem with the city itself. Like the beating heart, they drum blood through the body, though a heart would be naught without the veins and sinew, and even the body itself: a recursion of existence.
An Agati Bugetiy’agit noun, can also be said as ikka’ei. One who is a city; one who citys; one who is city’d.
Now, it is when he is cutting down the abdomen that she slides out of the whale, viscous red and slick blood clinging to her skin as she shivers.
An apparition -- very still, limned half in shadow in venerable warm tones -- across from him sits Allezan Terkanos the First, Emperor of Rakavia, Protector of the Northwest, prim and proper, tall and noble and not at all gaunt, a closed-mouth smile growing up and into his lips, his cheeks as he cocks his head, waiting for an answer.
The Qubaatayaat of Lake Qitaeb, many ways due yuat, cut their third toe during the ritual to instate them. No matter the sharpness of your blade, one must be reminded that power is always temporary.
