LSRO: Chapter 314 - No Offense (Patreon)

Chapter 50

No Offense

Training her heritage given abilities wasn’t anything like Quinn expected. After her initial couple of weeks with the Library, she’d accepted there were simply a few innate abilities. Those included fire and her scales. She’d thought that was all it entailed. 

She’d been so very wrong. 

Drukala and Drivok had entirely different approaches than the Library. Quinn wondered if that was because of how long the Library hadn’t been a cosmicisodracus. And that was about all the time she had to ponder that. Time took on little meaning after that.

Not being a pure cosmicisodracus made things slightly different. The elements from other species in her genetic makeup were for specific evolutionary reasons Milaro had never fully explained to her. Both the siblings she’d officially met so far had seemed flabbergasted that she had as much cosmicisodracus genetic material as she did. But she’d really thought they’d covered everything months ago, only for her to realize that was definitely not the case.

Drivok snapped at her, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Your shielding is flimsy. Anybody could breakthrough if they used half their brain and realized how easy it is.”

Quinn sighed and crossed her arms, willing herself not to snap back. Her instruction from Drevicia had been rudimentary at best and she knew Driv wasn’t being deliberately cantankerous, but his snappiness was counterproductive at best. “My shielding has withstood and withstands plenty of attacks.” She was fairly certain she maintained a calm tone.

“Then those attacks haven’t honed in on your weaknesses. You got lucky,” Drivok said. “If I was attacking you, there’s no way you’d have come out unscathed. You’d all be dead and the Library would be gone and the universe would be imploding.”

Quinn cringed. She wanted to tell him there was no need for him to be so mean about it. But there probably was, because he was obviously right. 

The Library’s shadows sighed. “Well, I guess I’ve forgotten more than just my memories.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Drukala said. “You’ve been away from your dragon form forever. A lot longer than you’ve been the Library.”

“True,” the Library said. “I just... I never realized how much I’d lost.” The Library sounded contemplative, but also there was a hint of sadness. It sounded world-weary, tired, and a bit resigned.

Quinn wished she could really give it a hug. She turned around and filed that information away. The Library really hadn’t been a cosmicisodracus for a very long time. Just how far removed was it? She shook herself and focused instead on extending and reinforcing her shielding.

She could see what Drivok meant, even if she didn’t like it. The points of weakness stemmed from her scales. Where they joined on her body when she extended out her shielding. Making it larger to encompass more of an area made the barrier weaker at the points where her scales joined one another. Frankly, it made an already weakness a glaring one. Which, in hindsight, as it always is, was a bad thing. Assumptions were the mother of all screw-ups, after all. Those joinings in her shield made her weaker to targeted attacks. So far they really had been lucky, and she hated that Drivok was right, again.

Instead of dwelling on it, Quinn focused on smoothing the shielding out. Listening, barely listening, to Drivok’s instructions on how to do so, outside of her concentration. She made her subconscious aware of the subtle differences in the type of shield construction that she extended to her group mates. Once she’d done that, she should be able to automatically shield people in the way that she needed to.

“Excellent,” Drivok said. “You’ll need to practice that until you can activate it and hold it in your sleep. For yourself, for others, for everyone. There’s no reason for you ever to feel vulnerable. Just practice makes perfect, as they say.”

Quinn realized that was a universal saying, quite literally. Although she wasn’t sure the saying was applicable here. She was still trying to shed that human process of thought that didn’t encompass millennia of lifespan in the blink of an eye. The old human need to survive at all costs. She nodded at Drivok and concentrated again, this time extending her shield to specifically encompass only Aradie. 

The effect was almost instantaneous, just a blink, and suddenly the casing covered Aradie, who hooted. 

Quinn liked to think it sounded like approval.

“Much better,” Drukala said. “That was quick learning, quick adaption.”

Quinn flashed her a smile, but inside she didn’t like that. It was so easy to execute it now. Even after minimal practice, there was definitive growth in her shields. She’d been putting everybody in danger because she didn’t know what she was doing. As if he could read her thoughts, Malakai looked up at her, caught her eye, and grinned, pointing to his stomach, while the other hand still held a healing book he was reading. Quinn marveled at the fact that he was taking the doctor seriously. Frankly, she was relieved. If he’d known more about healing, maybe Jasper would have lived.

This way, maybe no one else she’d come to care about had to die.

She blinked as her stomach growled in response and realized she was actually ravenous. Driv caught the sound and grinned, backing off slightly. “I guess that’s enough for now. You have utilized a lot of energy and it’s getting late. I should’ve made you eat dinner a while ago. I do apologize for that. I got a little carried away. Wasn’t expecting to come here and find a niece.”

The Library’s shadow nodded. And Driv continued. “Exactly. I wasn’t expecting to find a niece that would require training. Which, it turns out, also helps me refresh some of my skills that I haven’t used in a very long time.”

He paused, frowning as the door opened and Milaro walked in. “Ah, just the Areiltháhnish that I wanted to see.”

Milaro rolled his eyes. “And here I am,” he said. “All yours. Haven’t seen you in a couple of thousand years, right?” There was a hint of something to the tone that Quinn couldn’t place. But since she was absolutely starving, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Driv turned to her. “Go eat. Then get some rest. We’ll be back here first thing in the morning.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes. It sounded like a dismissal. But it was too late, and she was too hungry to argue, even if she made a mental note to talk about it the next day. But then she realized he’d attempted to kick her out of her own domain.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at Drivok. “You realize this is my office, right?” she said, mentally directing the Library to make a training room for her to learn all of this dragon stuff nice and close to her office so the guests wouldn’t have to move too far. A room that wouldn’t restrict Milaro, Malakai, Aradie, or anyone who wasn’t a Cosmicisodracus from entering, like the vault did. She wasn’t about to pull the texts out, and not only because she was fairly sure the Library wouldn’t let her, but it would be much easier to have a dedicated training space they could still restrict that wasn’t her office. While she could get over her office constantly being used as a meeting place, she didn’t find being kicked out of it acceptable.

So she kept her voice even as she spoke. “After I’ve eaten, I’ll return to my office because I have things to do. I’d like to come back here and work, and then relax, and then I’ll go to sleep. After I’ve eaten, of course.”

Drivok, at least, had the common decency to look sheepish. “I’m sorry, I got a bit heavy-handed, didn’t I?”

Quinn nodded. She didn’t really trust herself to speak kindly right then. “Just so we’re clear, the Library has created another room that you can go and use, but this here is my space.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Driv inclined his head in apology.

“Why, Quinn? I guess you’re not such a little egg anymore,” Milaro said, a genuine smile on his face.

“That’s what Hal calls me and you know I hate it. Did you want me to hate you a little bit, too?” She asked pointedly.

“Ah, you do have a point.” Milaro laughed and his eyes twinkled. “Thanks for arranging somewhere else.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted them to tell her everything that she needed to know. Even now, they still babied her.

She left the room with Malakai in tow. He followed her out as Aradie swooped after them, landing on Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn sent a questioning inquiry to her bird, who shot back a bunch of images at her.

“Well, that’s very interesting,” Quinn mused as they walked toward the Culinary branch. Her mind raced.

“What’s interesting?” Malakai asked when Quinn didn’t offer up anything.

“They encouraged Aradie to come with me, as if they didn’t want her in the room. That makes me think they’re talking about things they don’t want me to know.” She couldn’t shake the fact that she was certain she was missing something. Chalk it up to one of those gut feelings.

“You know, you could always ask Lynx to listen in if you really needed to know everything.”

Quinn grimaced. “No, that’s not gonna work. The Library would probably know he was there since they’d basically connected. As much as I love the cat, he is very much the Library’s manifestation.”

Malakai frowned. “Well, any idea what they might be talking about?”

Quinn shrugged. “Not to sound too self-involved and vain, but it’s probably me.”

He watched her for several steps before nodding with a grin. “Yeah, I’d be willing to bet it’s about you, too. Or, you know, about you, the Library’s potential destruction, maybe the bomb sitting in one of the pillars down there and how to rectify it, the constant sabotage attacks on the Library. But definitely, there will be talk of you.”

Quinn laughed. Even though she felt slightly let down, she’d sort of been hoping he’d talk sense into her and reason with her about her conspiracy theories about their discussion topics. And yet, at the same time, she knew he was right. Even more so than she’d been. Quinn was quite certain at least some of the discussion would just be about her, too. But what else weren’t they telling her? And why couldn’t she be there to discuss it? Apart from the fact that she was very obviously hungry and needed to replenish some energy reserves. Well, she’d give them a few hours, and she’d give them the benefit of the doubt during those few hours. But if they didn’t tell her before she started training the next day, well, she’d think of something. 

“I need food,” she said and clomped the last few steps into the culinary branch. Somehow, stepping inside the area always made Quinn relax. She wasn’t sure if it was the constant cooking and the barrage of smells that assaulted her senses or the way that it reminded her of her grandmother, who always baked and cooked and allowed Quinn to sit on the island while she did. They were some of the best memories Quinn had. Cozy, good food on a Sunday afternoon. Making the most of her week, preparing her for the next one. A part of her felt pained. She’d never really known her family. She guessed she’d known as much as she needed to. They were good to her and they’d been killed because of her.

“Are you okay?” Malakai’s voice was soothing and soft.

Quinn shrugged, looking around for Cook. They were on the far side, so she stood and just waited. She had the time to spare.

“I’m okay,” she answered belatedly, “just thinking about how so many people have already died to get me here.”

“No offense, Quinn, but you know it’s not just about you, right?” Malakai’s tone was harder than expected. “If the experiment had been someone else, then it would have been them. It’s always been about preserving the Library, about preserving the filtration method that keeps the chaos from going on a rampage and devouring everybody and the universe”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, slightly shocked at his bluntness and yet grateful for it. “Guess it’s not just me, it’s more like about the universe as a whole. I like that much better.”

“Good,” he said.

Cook arrived. They frowned, looking her up and down. “Hmm, you need comfort food. How about a nice risotto? Would that hit the spot?”

Quinn brightened. She hadn’t had a risotto in a while. “Yes,” she said. “Mushroom?”

Quinn nodded. “Chicken today?”

“No, just mushroom will do.”

“Excellent, sit down and I’ll have it right with you.”

Maybe Cook wasn’t Quinn’s grandmother, but the sensation and the feeling of relaxation and calm was almost exactly the same. Quinn decided her favorite branch was the culinary branch, because it just felt like it had the comfort of home.