The outer walls of Libiris were at least six feet thick, making the threshold like a short hall. Scootaloo led the way with Thistleroot and Sweetie Belle providing light right behind her.
The hall opened up into a room that looked like it took nearly half the building. On either side was a door, and two more stood on the far end of the room.
At the center of the room was a semicircular wall. On the right side of the area surrounded by the wall was a flight of stairs leading down. To the left of the stairs was a large circle carved into the ground. On either side of the enclosed space was a large black crystal. Other crystals were mounted to the walls around the room. Two on each wall, symmetrically placed.
Eight walls of white light surrounded the stairs, but as Scootaloo approached the closest turned to blue and then faded away. The others followed suit two at a time until the final wall had faded. A soft hum filled the room, and then the black crystals around the room began to glow, filling the entire room with a comfortable white light.
Sweetie Belle and Thistleroot looked at each other and wordlessly let their horns fade. Thistleroot shrugged.
“Down the stairs, or through the doors?” Scootaloo asked.
“Doors,” Mimic said. “We shouldn’t leave unchecked areas between us and the only exit.”
“Why, you don’t think there’s something dangerous in here, do you?” Spike asked.
“No way,” Apple Bloom said. “This place has been locked up tight for a thousand years. There’s no way anything could be alive in here.”
“Discord was alive for a thousand years,” Spike said.
“That’s different. He was turned to stone. He wasn’t getting any older.”
“The princess is a thousand years old.”
“Yeah, but,” Apple Bloom hesitated, thinking. “Sure, but she wasn’t locked away. How could somepony survive in here for a thousand years? Even if they had food stores, no food I know of would stay good that long.”
Spike thought for another few seconds, but couldn’t seem to come up with a counter argument.
Scootaloo reached the nearest door on the left side and pushed. It didn’t budge.
An echoing female voice spoke from somewhere near the center of the room. “Ahdan dra bycc luta.”
Scootaloo skipped back from the door, but nothing more seemed to happen. She tried again, pushing against the door, but nothing happened. After about ten seconds the message repeated.
Mimic tried the door on the opposite side. The message played once again. Each door produced the same results.
“Stairs then?” Thistleroot asked. Scootaloo nodded.
The group began to descend, and Scootaloo found herself trying to move quietly. She didn’t believe they’d find anything alive in Libiris, but Mimic’s caution had put her on edge.
The chatter from earlier had stopped. The others seemed to be just as tense as she was. Between that and the thick layer of dust on the steps, the group was more or less silent.
The dust was uniform, Scootaloo noticed. Undisturbed. She glanced up at the corners of the stairwell. She hadn’t seen any webs since entering Libiris either. Not even bugs had managed to survive inside, it seemed.
The stairs hit a landing and turned back on themselves every twenty steps or so. Each landing was lit by the luminescent crystals the group had seen earlier. The sixth landing opened up to a larger, darker room. Between the stairs leading up and those continuing down was another large circle, like the one at the top.The two circles seemed to line up, with the stairs descending in a box around them.
“Check out the room?” Scootaloo asked in a whisper. “Or continue down?”
“Check it out,” Mimic answered. Nopony argued, so Scootaloo moved cautiously through out of the stairwell.
The room they’d entered was dark. The crystals she’d seen before were mounted on the walls, but they were either broken or turned to the lowest setting. They were enough to orient herself, but nothing more.
As her eyes adjusted she began to make out shapes. Large boxes. Shelves and tables, maybe? She turned and as quietly as she could told Mimic to get the others to spread out and keep behind cover. Mimic nodded and turned away.
Scootaloo moved further into the room and froze several steps later. She could just make out a silhouette in the darkness. It was roughly pony shaped, but larger. Almost alicorn sized.
If the thing could see in the dark she’d already be in trouble. Hoping it wasn’t just trying to lure her in, she crept forward. One hoof out, shift her weight, another step, and another, agonizingly slow.
The figure didn’t move.
She was able to make out more details now. The figure seemed to be uneven, or maybe just heavily clothed. She could make out the tangled lines of a beard just below what looked like its head, and something jagged above. Faint spots of light shone at several points, but after a moment Scootaloo realized they were just reflections of the light shining in from the landing.
What kind of pony had a reflective face? Scootaloo seriously doubted this thing had access to enough mane care products to achieve a coat that shiny.
Still the thing hadn’t moved. Scootaloo steeled her nerves and began crawling nearer, moving toward its back side. She reached back into her saddlebags and felt for the wrapped fragment of harmony. She put it close to the figure, held her breath, and moved the scarf so that a small sliver of the fragment was revealed. Soft golden light fell onto the back of the figures hind leg.
Rather than fur, the figure was made of wood. Scootaloo moved the fragment higher. More wood, occasionally patched with moss. Scootaloo looked over one shoulder, then the other, and pulled the cloth off of the fragment.
The figure was made entirely of wood. Scootaloo chuckled silently at herself, glad none of her friends had seen her acting so paranoid.
Looking closer, she could see the wooden figure wasn’t a pony. It appeared to be a carving of a deer. A buck, to be specific. It was taller and bulkier than Scootaloo. The beard she’d seen earlier was actually a thick tangle of moss growing from its face, and the jagged shapes above its head were the points of antlers.
The figure wasn’t particularly well crafted. The antlers looked like they were made of old driftwood, and the creature seemed to be made of parts rather than carved from a single mass of wood. The wood was old, of course. At one time it might have been a fine polished brown, but it had greyed with age.
Its eyes were made of two green gems, rounded rather than cut. They weren’t emeralds or any other green gem Scootaloo had ever seen. They were too pale, like somepony had mixed milk in with the usual color of an emerald.
Scootaloo almost dropped the fragment of harmony when the figure turned its head to face her. She skittered back until her back hit one of the tables.
The creature closed its eyes, and then opened them several seconds later in a slow blink. It moved, turning the front half of its body toward her and taking a sluggish step. Its joints creaked as it did so and the sound reminded Scootaloo of trees swaying in the wind.
The thing spoke, its voice as slow and creaking as its movements. “Knaadehkc.”
Scootaloo froze. The creature took another step toward her.
Two points of blue light appeared behind the creature. Mimic’s eyes reflecting the light given off by the fragment. The changeling stayed where she was, close enough to help the moment Scootaloo called.
Scootaloo swallowed, fighting back her nerves and moved away from the table she’d been pressed against.
The creature spoke again. “Tu oui cbayg?”
“Uh...” Scootaloo almost said she couldn’t understand it, but realized it wouldn’t understand her either. It didn’t seem immediately hostile, at least.
“Hu, E ryja caah ouin geht pavuna.”
On the other hoof, she had nothing better to do. “Hello?”
“Hel lo. Oac. E ghuf fryd drec ec. Ed ec... y... Oac. E ghuf fryd drec ec. Ed ec... y... a... pony? Yes, pony?”
Scootaloo’s ears pricked up on the last word. Had that just sounded like the word pony, or did the creature know what she was?
The creature tilted its head. “Un hu? Oui tu hud cbayg?”
She pointed a hoof at herself and said, “Pony.”
The creature nodded. “Oac. Yes. Ed ryc paah muhk. You are a pony.”
“You speak Equestrian?”
“Equestrian, yes. Y haf duhkia. New language. From across the sea.” The creature paused. “Perhaps not so new.”
“New language?” Scootaloo asked. “Oh, because this place was sealed up just after the first ponies came to Equestria, right?”
The creature nodded. “That is so.”
“You speak Equestrian very well for somepony who considers it a new language.”
“Language is knowledge,” the creature said as though that explained everything.
“Who are you?” Scootaloo asked. "How have you lived down here for so long?"
“I am,” the creature paused. “I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember who you are?”
“Fryd fyc so hysa? Ponies once gave me a name. When their kind first came to this forrest. There was no word for what I am in their tongue, so they created one. Hysat yvdan Libiris. They called me the Librarian.”
“They created the word? You’re saying ponies didn’t have librarians before they met you?”
“Dryd ec cu. Do ponies have librarians now?” The Librarian asked. Scootaloo nodded. “That is good. Light. Yes?” A spark of green energy bounced between two points on his antlers and the light crystals on the walls of the room glowed brighter.
“If you’re a librarian, then that means this really is a library, isn’t it?” Scootaloo asked.
“This is Libiris,” the Librarian said.
“Are there books here?”
“Uv luinca. Books and more.”
“Can you show us where?” Scootaloo asked.
The Librarian closed his eyes and bowed his head in thought. “Cruf dra pony dra puugc. Cusadrehk E ys vunkaddehk. Yes, I can show you, but first you must... what is the pony word... cryna... contribute.”
“Contribute what?” Scootaloo asked.
“Knowledge.”
Scootaloo frowned. “Hey, everypony, you can all come out now.”
Mimic came forward from where she’d been standing ready. Thistleroot came to stand beside her. On Scootaloo’s left were Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, and on her right was Spike.
“Suna kiacdc. Buheac, y dragon yht y changeling.”
“What do you mean by knowledge?” Mimic asked.
“Secrets. Stories. Ynd. Cleahla. Magic. That which should be safeguarded for others. Any contribution will do.”
“Scootaloo, do you still have those books you took from the Ponyville library?” Thistleroot asked. “I bet those will count.”
Scootaloo shook her head. “I left them behind when Al told us they wouldn’t help.”
Thistleroot pursed his lips. “Can we all agree to just ignore him when he says stuff like that?”
“He said magic,” Apple Bloom said. “Anypony got anything magical? Besides that, o’course.” She tilted her head at Scootaloo, who was still holding the fragment of harmony.
Thistleroot pulled his bag off his back and rifled through it. Sweetie Belle and Spike followed suit. “Nothing here,” Thistleroot answered. Sweetie Belle shook her head.
“Nothing magic,” Spike said in a voice almost too quiet for anypony to hear.
Scootaloo turned back to the Librarian. “We don’t have anything to contribute, but we can come back with a lot of books later if you help us now. It’s important.”
The Librarian pondered her request. “Esbundyhd. I would be willing to help, but I fear I am limited. I may be the Librarian, but Libiris is the... mejehk vunla... the archive, the knowledge. It has been dormant. I do not know for how long. Perhaps, given time, I could find what you need, but the fastest way to awaken Libiris is to... tu yc ec hydinym... follow the rules.”
“Are ya saying the library itself is asleep?” Applebloom asked.
The Librarian nodded.
“Why was it sealed in the first place?” Sweetie Belle asked. “And who sealed it?”
The Librarian frowned. “I don’t remember.”
“Maybe we should risk a trip back to Greenhaven Grotto,” Thistleroot said. “We can explain that we managed to open Libiris and grab some books.”
“Ah don’t know,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah don’t think they’ll give us time to explain. Especially if Midlight’s been walking around lettin’ everypony see his broken wing.”
Mimic scowled.
“Ah’m not saying ya did the wrong thing, but they ain’t gonna listen to us.”
“Then we go to the nearest town in the morning, come back. That’s like, two days,” Thistleroot said.
“At this point, I don’t think we have a choice,” Scootaloo said. Two days. How much worse could things get in two days? It had been what, five, six days since Nocturne was freed?
“Excuse me, Mr. Librarian?” Spike said, shuffling closer. He opened his pack and pulled a plastic wrapped comic book out. “Would this count as a contribution?”
Thistleroot gasped.
The Librarian bent down to examine the comic book. “Power Ponies?”
Spike nodded. “Volume one, first edition. Mint condition.”
Points of green light flickered on the points of the Librarian’s antlers. After a moment, the light faded. “Stories. Lessons, dreams within the written word. Libiris will accept this.”
Spike frowned, as though hoping the Librarian would turn him down. “Then you can have it if you’ll help us.”
“Spike, you don’t have to do that,” Sweetie Belle said. “Twilight gave you that.”
Spike held the comic higher, and it lifted out of his hands, held aloft by an unseen force. His voice was unsteady as he said, “I’ll make her buy me one next year. After we save her.”
Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to say something else, then seemed to think better of it.
The Librarian turned and the comic moved with him, floating out of Spike's claws.
“Follow. It is time for Libiris to awaken.”