Leo had always considered libraries to be sanctuaries of peace and quiet, places where a person could disappear among the stacks and lose themselves in books without fear of being discovered, questioned, or asked to demonstrate revolutionary magical techniques.
The Royal Academy's Grand Library was a magnificent example of the genre: a soaring cathedral of knowledge with towering shelves, comfortable reading nooks, and the kind of hushed atmosphere that discouraged conversation and encouraged contemplation.
It was, Leo thought as he made his way through the library's main entrance, exactly the kind of place where a person could hide from their growing reputation as an accidental magical prodigy.
This optimistic assessment lasted approximately fifteen minutes.
"Mr. Vance!" called a cheerful voice from behind the main circulation desk. "How wonderful to see you! I'm Librarian Penelope Bookwright, and I've been so looking forward to meeting our famous theoretical researcher!"
Leo's heart sank as he recognized the enthusiastic tone of someone who had been eagerly anticipating this encounter.
Librarian Bookwright was a middle-aged woman with graying hair, wire-rimmed spectacles, and the kind of bright, intelligent eyes that suggested she knew exactly where every book in the library was located and probably had opinions about their contents.
"Famous theoretical researcher?" Leo asked weakly, though he suspected he already knew what she was referring to.
"Oh yes!" Librarian Bookwright beamed at him with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for particularly exciting new acquisitions.
"Professor Grimwald has told me all about your groundbreaking work in interdisciplinary magical analysis. I've been gathering some resources that I thought might be helpful for your research."
She gestured to a cart that was loaded with books, scrolls, and what appeared to be several ancient tomes that looked like they might spontaneously combust if handled incorrectly.
The titles visible on the spines included "Advanced Theoretical Frameworks for Magical Consciousness," "The Philosophy of Emotional Thaumaturgy," and "Interdisciplinary Approaches to Systematic Magic."
"That's... very thoughtful," Leo said, staring at the collection of academic materials that represented exactly the kind of advanced research he was trying to avoid.
"But I'm actually just looking for something... lighter. Maybe a nice adventure novel. Something with dragons and heroes and no theoretical frameworks whatsoever."
Librarian Bookwright looked at him with the kind of gentle concern usually reserved for people who were obviously suffering from some form of academic burnout.
"Oh, Mr. Vance, I understand completely. Even the most dedicated researchers need to take breaks from their serious work. But surely you'd be interested in some of these fascinating texts on magical theory?"
"Not really," Leo said desperately. "I'm much more interested in... fiction. Stories. The kind of books that don't require any thinking or analysis or revolutionary insights into the nature of magical consciousness."
"Nonsense!" Librarian Bookwright said with the kind of cheerful determination that suggested she was not going to be easily discouraged. "A mind like yours needs intellectual stimulation. I'm sure you'll find these materials absolutely fascinating."
Before Leo could protest further, she began loading books into his arms with the efficiency of someone who had spent years helping students whether they wanted help or not.
"This one," she said, placing a particularly heavy tome on top of the growing stack, "is a comprehensive analysis of cross-dimensional magical resonance patterns. And this one covers the theoretical foundations of sympathetic magical relationships. Oh, and you simply must read this treatise on the philosophical implications of magical consciousness... it's directly relevant to your work on emotional thaumaturgy."
Leo staggered under the weight of the books, trying to maintain his balance while Sir Reginald provided unhelpful commentary from his pocket.
"Perhaps you should mention that you're more interested in recreational reading," the pixie suggested. "Something about needing to relax your obviously overworked intellectual faculties."
"I don't have overworked intellectual faculties," Leo hissed under his breath. "I have accidentally functional intellectual faculties that keep getting me into trouble."
"What was that?" Librarian Bookwright asked, looking up from the cart where she was selecting additional materials for Leo's unwanted research collection.
"I was just... thanking you for your help," Leo said weakly. "Very helpful. Extremely helpful. The kind of help that's almost too helpful."
"Oh, you're quite welcome!" Librarian Bookwright said brightly. "Now, I've also set aside some materials in our Special Collections section that I thought might interest you. Some very rare texts on advanced magical theory that are usually restricted to graduate students and faculty."
"Special Collections?" Leo asked, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "I don't think I need access to Special Collections. I'm just a first-year student with... basic research interests."
"Nonsense!" Librarian Bookwright said dismissively. "Professor Grimwald specifically mentioned that you should have access to our most advanced materials. He said your research could benefit from exposure to some of our rarer texts."
She led Leo deeper into the library, past the comfortable reading areas and into a section that he had described in his original story but had never really thought about in practical terms.
The Special Collections area was separated from the main library by a series of magical barriers and protective wards, and the books here were clearly different from the standard academic texts available to regular students.
These books hummed with magical energy. Some of them glowed softly, others seemed to whisper to themselves, and a few appeared to be watching Leo with what could only be described as interest.
"Here we are," Librarian Bookwright said, approaching a shelf that was lined with particularly ancient-looking volumes. "I thought you might be interested in this collection of texts on theoretical magical frameworks. Some of these books are over a thousand years old, and they contain insights that are still relevant to modern magical research."
She reached for a book that was bound in what appeared to be dragon leather and secured with silver clasps that bore intricate runic inscriptions. "This one, for example, is a research on the fundamental nature of magical consciousness written by Archmage Cornelius Heartweaver himself."
Leo stared at the book, recognizing the name from his conversation with Professor Grimwald. "Archmage Heartweaver? The one who developed theories about emotional thaumaturgy?"
"The very same!" Librarian Bookwright said with obvious delight. "I thought you'd be interested, given your own work in that area. This is one of his most advanced texts, it's usually restricted to doctoral candidates and senior researchers."
She placed the book on top of Leo's already precarious stack of reading materials, and Leo felt the ancient tome's magical energy resonating with his own in a way that was both fascinating and deeply concerning.
"I'm not sure I'm qualified to read thousand-year-old magical texts," Leo said carefully. "They seem... advanced. Very advanced. The kind of advanced that might be dangerous for someone with my... limited experience."
"Oh, don't worry about that," Librarian Bookwright said cheerfully. "The protective wards will prevent any serious magical accidents. The worst that could happen is a minor explosion or perhaps a small dimensional rift."
"A small dimensional rift?" Leo's voice cracked.
"Nothing serious," Librarian Bookwright assured him. "Just a tiny tear in the fabric of reality. The maintenance staff deals with those all the time."
Leo was about to protest that he would prefer to avoid even tiny tears in the fabric of reality when his attention was caught by a book that seemed to be calling to him.
Not literally calling, though, given his recent experiences with sentient magic, he wouldn't have been entirely surprised, but drawing his attention with the kind of magnetic pull that suggested it contained something important.