The library was a familiar place. No matter where she traveled, the same feeling wrapped around her when she stepped into an archive building or a library. A feeling of comforting weight pressing in about her shoulders. Words calling to her, bidding her read and learn. This day, and she feared many days to come, she would not be able to wander the paths between shelves and seek a random tome to inspire her. She had to search.
Light of early dawn was kept at bay by shutters. The tomes and maps protected from the damage of the sunbeams. Still, small ribbons of golden light seeped through. She had tied back her hair simply, one thick cord to tie back the lot of unruly curls. She had no desire to put the auburn tresses into order this day. There was no reason to do so.
Her steps were swift, purposeful to the collection she had found upon her first visit some many months back. There in a far corner, a history of the seven nations from her homeworld rested in haphazard piles. She had laughed then, realizing that this lack of interest in keeping the information in good order reflected on its topic. Now, she felt the prick of anger. Her world was of no less value than others. Her people and livelihood no less than the grand worlds of others who dwelled here.
It would do no good to dwell on such a thing, and she began to organize the area herself, while taking a few books that held some promise to answer the riddle set for her: how the Changlings had defeated the Sedlaral before, and how to do it again.
She had only straightened one shelf and searched its entire contents before the heat of late afternoon final drew her from the search. Food, drink, rest, and diversion she would need to be able to return and start the search again. There was one place that would offer it all that came to mind, though she could not deny there were others between here and there that would do the same.
A moments pause, two beats of time given to the choice, and she departed the library with her destination in mind.