The grand stone walls of the Terra Library seemed to sigh around her, as if the building itself knew its time was nearly up. Dust swirled in the shafts of light that pierced through the cracked windows. The air was heavy with the scent of aged paper and something sadder — the scent of endings.
Shaira tugged her sleeves higher and dragged a large, empty wooden box toward the nearest bookshelf. Venia had offered it with a soft smile and a tired voice. "This should help you carry more," she'd said.
Now, as Shaira knelt on the cold marble floor and began carefully lifting books from the shelf, her brow was already damp with sweat.
"It's a lot..." she muttered under her breath, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand as she set another stack into the seventh box of the morning.
From across the hall, Venia looked up from where she was organizing scattered scrolls. The older woman gave a faint smile. "Yes, it is."
Shaira sat back on her heels for a moment, catching her breath. Her gaze drifted toward Venia. "Miss Venia... can I ask you something?"
"Of course, child."
"Why do you have to throw all of these away?" Shaira asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and frustration. "Couldn't they be... donated or something? There's still so much value here."
Venia's expression dimmed, her fingers pausing mid-motion over a yellowed map. "I thought about that, truly I did. But Mr. Tom Cash gave strict orders — everything must be cleared out before the demolition crews arrive." Her voice dropped. "We no longer have a choice. Orders from above."
Shaira frowned, picking up another bundle of brittle books. "But... why does he even want to build a casino here? Of all places."
Venia sighed. "You know how it is, dear. The library brings in no money. And the city has been eyeing this land for years." She straightened her back, though her age weighed on her shoulders. "Mr. Tom Cash promised the council he'd pay hefty taxes with his casino profits. He pledged large donations to the city's coffers — funds for new developments... and of course, promises to help those in need."
Shaira's lips curled into a faint, wry smile. "The needs of the upper class only... right?"
"Sadly, yes," Venia whispered, her gaze distant.
There was a short silence between them. The sound of pages fluttering in the stale air was the only thing that filled the vast, empty space.
Shaira finally spoke again, her tone light but with an edge of determination. "It's alright. Don't feel bad for us in the underground. We know how to survive." She glanced at the boxes already filled and stacked. "These books will help. Even if just a few... they'll give the people below something to read. A little escape from our world. Just like the scrap food from above lets us survive another day, so will these stories ease the mind."
Venia's eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "You're a brave one, Shaira. Far braver than most."
Shaira shrugged and stood, stretching her tired back. "We do what we must."
"I'll call Fargo," Venia offered. "He can help lift the heavier boxes to the ground access tunnel."
"Thanks." Shaira exhaled. She rubbed her sore arms and glanced at the towering shelves that still remained. So many left to go.
---
Not long after, Fargo arrived — a burly, broad-shouldered man in faded overalls and heavy boots that echoed with each step across the floor.
"Got another haul for me, miss?" he grunted, wiping sweat from his neck with a rag.
Shaira nodded toward the neatly stacked boxes by the front hall. "Seven so far. More coming."
Fargo gave a low whistle. "At this rate, you'll save half the library yourself." He chuckled, then hoisted a box onto his shoulder with ease. "A shame though... place like this, getting turned into a house of cards and dice."
Shaira smirked. "That's the way of the world, isn't it?"
He nodded grimly. "Too true."
With Fargo's help, the first load of boxes was soon carted toward the stairwell leading to the underground transport. Shaira stayed behind, wiping the dust from her face and returning to the far shelves.
---
By mid-afternoon, the work had taken its toll. Shaira's arms ached, and her legs felt heavy, but she pressed on.
It was near the back of the library — a section labeled Ancient Histories — where she stumbled across another curious find. A thin, leather-bound notebook tucked between thicker tomes. Unlike the older books, this one seemed personal — a journal, perhaps.
She flipped it open. The pages were filled with careful handwriting — not glyphs like the strange book from earlier, but proper letters she could actually read. It seemed to belong to one of the early librarians.
"Day 134 of the Restoration Project. The Glyph Codex remains undeciphered. But some symbols react to light. Could they be keys? Or warnings?"
Shaira's eyes widened slightly. Glyph Codex... is that the book I found earlier?
She glanced around, then quietly slipped the journal into her personal bag.
"Another mystery," she thought, her pulse quickening.
---
Venia returned a short while later, carrying a small tray with two chipped mugs of warm tea.
"You should rest a little," she urged, handing one to Shaira.
"Thanks." Shaira accepted the mug and sank onto a worn velvet bench.
They sipped in silence, surrounded by the fading knowledge of a forgotten age. It was oddly comforting.
Venia finally broke the quiet. "You remind me of your mother, you know."
Shaira looked up, startled. "You knew her?"
"Oh yes. She came here often when she was younger. Bright, stubborn, always curious." Venia smiled wistfully. "You have her spirit."
For a moment, emotion flickered in Shaira's chest. She swallowed it down. "I didn't know she loved books that much."
"She loved learning," Venia corrected. "Books, plants, remedies, anything that could help others."
Shaira smiled faintly. "Sounds like her."
---
The rest of the afternoon passed in a steady rhythm of lifting, sorting, and packing. With Fargo making regular trips and Venia lending an extra pair of hands, progress came faster.
By the time evening shadows crept through the broken windows, twenty boxes had been filled and moved.
Still... the library looked no less vast. The shelves stretched on, stubbornly refusing to empty.
As Shaira closed another box and wiped her brow, Venia approached quietly.
"You've done more than enough for today," she said gently. "You should rest."
Shaira looked at the remaining shelves. Her body was tired... but her mind burned with quiet resolve.
"I'll come back tomorrow," she said. "There's still more worth saving."
Venia nodded, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, child. Truly."
Shaira gathered her black bag, the strange codex and the journal tucked safely inside.
Outside, the city was already fading into twilight — the towering glass spires glowing like cold stars above the slums.
She took one last look at the crumbling facade of the Terra Library.
"Not everything will be lost," she whispered to herself, then turned and vanished into the shadows of the upper city.