The shimmer of the closing portal faded into silence. Aurel drifted backward through the air, humming faintly to herself as the last traces of the mortal cavern dissolved. The frozen serpent, the trembling boy, the still water—gone. Ahead of her stretched something far grander.
The Library of Time.
Endless shelves rose like towers, vanishing into horizons both above and below. Books bound in silver leather glowed faintly in the dim light. Scrolls unfurled and floated between aisles, scribbling themselves in runes that shifted with every glance. Hourglasses orbited slowly, some forward, some backward, some spilling sand sideways in spirals that ignored gravity. The entire place thrummed with a low hum, like the heartbeat of eternity itself.
Aurel spun in midair, giggling softly. Her silver hair fanned out like starlight threads, her robe of blue mist swirling with her motion. She reached for one of the drifting hourglasses, tapped it with a small finger, and froze the falling grains mid-drop. She laughed, poking at it again until the sand quivered.
She was still laughing when a voice broke the silence.
"Aurel."
The tone was calm, low, and absolute.
She froze mid-spin, blinking.
The voice came again, closer this time. "Where have you been playing now?"
From between two massive pillars, a tall figure emerged. She wore deep azure robes embroidered with golden constellations, the designs flowing across her sleeves like star maps. Long pale hair fell to her waist, and green eyes glimmered with a composed, unshakable light.
Naera.
The Librarian of Time. Keeper of every record, every thread of the river's flow.
Aurel hovered still for a heartbeat, then her lips split into a grin. She darted forward, twirling once before throwing herself into Naera's arms.
"Naeraaaa!" she sang, voice bright and childish, as if she hadn't just been caught breaking one of their most forbidden rules.
Naera let out the faintest sigh. She lowered her gaze to the small figure clinging to her waist. One hand rose, brushing lightly through Aurel's hair.
"You slipped out again," she murmured.
"Mmhmm~" Aurel squeezed tighter, cheek pressing into Naera's robes. "But I had to check on him. I'm the reason he slipped into that world, remember? If he stumbled there because of me, then it's only fair I guide him… and save him when he's about to be eaten."
Naera's eyes softened faintly, but her voice stayed firm. "You are not supposed to meddle with mortals."
Aurel leaned back just far enough to beam up at her, eyes bright with mischief. "I didn't meddle! I only watched. Maybe… nudged. A tiny, tiny bit." She pinched her fingers together, giggling.
"Aurel."
The weight in Naera's tone should have been enough to silence her, but Aurel only giggled harder, wriggling free and spinning upside down, her hair falling toward the marble floor like a silver waterfall.
"You always sound so serious," she teased, swaying in midair. "You'll get wrinkles, you know."
Naera tilted her chin, her eyes following the girl as she looped around her. "And you always treat eternity as a playground."
"Because it is!" Aurel chirped, flipping upright and throwing her arms wide toward the infinite shelves. "All of this, all the ticking and flowing, all the rivers and sands—it's boring if you don't play with it."
Naera's gaze sharpened faintly. "You stopped the river again."
Aurel stuck her tongue out. "Just a little. One second, stretched into forever. He didn't even notice."
Naera stepped forward, robes whispering against the marble. She adjusted the clasp at Aurel's collar, straightening it with steady hands. Her touch was tender, but her words were not. "Every ripple carries weight. Even the smallest pause may cost a thousand lives downstream."
Aurel's smile faltered only for a breath. Then she leaned forward suddenly, pressing her forehead into Naera's shoulder again. "But he's so fun to watch. Everyone else would've laughed at him, but I like him. He's fragile, yes—but sparks grow brighter when they're pushed. Don't you want to see how much he can burn?"
Naera exhaled slowly, her hand resting again on the girl's head. "You grow attached too easily."
Aurel giggled into her robes. "I don't! I just… owe him. That's all."
Naera's voice dipped lower. "And when owing turns into guiding?"
Aurel peeked up, grin sly. "…Maybe just a little guiding."
Naera's lips curved in the faintest smile, though her eyes held centuries of patience. "…Time Walker, you are insufferable."
"I knooow," Aurel sang, squeezing tighter before flipping away again.
The Library pulsed with its eternal hum. Shelves shifted imperceptibly. An hourglass cracked, spilling glowing sand upward before sealing itself again. The weight of eternity pressed in from all sides. Yet in the center of it, the playful child danced circles around the Librarian's calm figure.
Naera watched her for a long moment. Then, almost to herself, she whispered, "The others will notice your ripples soon. And they will not be so gentle."
Aurel's grin froze. Her spin slowed, but only for a heartbeat before she flipped upside down again. "Then you'll protect me, won't you?"
Naera's silence was answer enough.
Aurel drifted closer again, whispering with mock secrecy. "You'd miss me if I didn't sneak out."
Naera shook her head softly, though her lips betrayed the faintest affection. "…Impossible child."
"Time Walker," Aurel corrected proudly, pointing at herself with both thumbs, then burst into laughter that rang against the infinite shelves.
Naera stood steady, the anchor of the river. Aurel whirled around her like a spark on the current.
For all their contrasts, they belonged to the same flow:
the Time Walker who bent the stream, and the Librarian who kept it steady.