> The Library's Volunteer > by Monochromatic > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > I. The Unrequited Race > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ambris Knot had a strange name.  Well, not a strange name, just one that didn’t sound all that nice or interesting and certainly not one that, according to her editor, would inspire people to pick up her books. Her several archaeological non-fiction books had sold moderately well, but had never been the inspired hits she thought they deserved to be.  You should try fiction, her editor had said after she’d confessed she was frustrated. All these archaeology books, they’re fine and all, they are, but  maybe putting them in action is what you need. An adventure novel for young adults! Try it out.  As she made her way towards the library at exactly seven in the morning, wrapped up in a big shawl and a hat that hid her graying hair, Ambris Knot told herself she wasn’t a fiction writer.  Well, to be fair, which her editor often forced her to be, she hadn’t tried it yet. She’d written a few fiction stories back when she was in college several, several, several years ago, but…  Hrm.  As she reached Liberty Plaza, she took a cold breath that might have frosted her heart if the sight of her dear friend hadn’t warmed it first.  There, right by the entrance of the plaza, a much, much younger woman spun her wheelchair around, her brown hair with gray streaks tied up into a ponytail.  “Oh, hey!” the young woman exclaimed upon seeing Ambris. “Missus K!” “Daring Sun,” greeted Ambris, smiling warmly. “Early as always.” “Well, yeah,” Daring replied, a grin shining on her face. “We’re racing today, right?” Ambris’ smile vanished and pushed up her glasses.  “As ever, dear girl, the answer is no,” Ambris replied, striding forwards towards the distant library. “I’m too old to race anybody.” “Awwww! But it’s good for you! And this will be good practice for when I race my dad at the Olympic Stadium in Braysil!” Daring insisted, wheeling herself to match Ambris’ speed. “Look, Missus K, you’re ancient, I’m in a wheelchair—the playing field is even!” When Ambris rolled her eyes, Daring sped up a little. “Come on! You can do it!” “You say that about everything, child.” “Do it! It’ll be the race of the century! Head Librarian versus Star Volunteer!” Without waiting for a reply, Daring wheeled off towards the library. “Daring Sun takes the lead! Will Ambris Knot lose yet again?!” Ambris laughed.  “How can I lose a race I’m not even participating in?!” > II. The Examination > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Though Ambris knew how to use a computer, and in fact had been the one to insist the Canterlot library did all its filing and paperwork digitally, she couldn’t deny she preferred to do her first drafts with pen and paper. A computer felt impersonal, devoid of the author’s personality, while calligraphy had the author literally written all over it.  “Cinder blinked, her heart racing at the sight of the ruins. They were…” Ambris’ murmurings drifted off, and she glanced at the list of teenage vernacular she’d heard that week and wrote the rest of her sentence.  “I’m almost done,” Daring said, sitting on the opposite side of the front desk and working on a practice test sheet for an upcoming exam. “A processual archaeologist would likely be attracted to all of the following except…” She licked her lips, pausing for a moment, and then filled in a circle. “C, none of the above… And… done!” She capped off her pen and then turned her wheelchair towards Ambris, expectant. “Are you done?” “No, but this will have to do.” Ambris capped her fountain pen and sighed, pushing up her glasses. “All right. Shall we?” As they had many times before, they traded their papers before grabbing red pens from the nearby pencil-holder. A dozen minutes of relative silence passed, and eventually they both put down their pens nearly at the same time before engaging in a familiar stand-off.  “Who goes first?” Daring asked, and just as as Ambris opened her mouth, Daring interrupted. “Wait! I’ll go first.” “Is it mostly good feedback?” Ambris asked, trying not to sound nervous.  “...Yeaaaah,” Daring said, slowly. Very slowly. “Sort of. Maybe. Okay, well—” “I see. I’ll go first, in that case.” “Wait!” Daring blurted out. “How badly did I do?” Ambris cleared her throat and said nothing else.  “Shit,” Daring whispered, and at Ambris’ raised eyebrow, quickly corrected herself. “I mean, shoot! Er, shoot. Really? But I studied! Fu- Fudgesicles.” “I didn’t say it was bad, child,” Ambris pointed out before taking a breath. “You go first.” “Kay.”  Daring looked over the pages again for a minute and then cleared her throat.  “Okay, so, I really liked the descriptions of the ruins. Really evocative, I could totally see them, but you’re really good at that, so no surprise. Uhh… What else… Oh! I liked the Professor character. It was great when he saw the ruins and realized Cinder hadn’t been making them up.” “Oh. Thank you,” Ambris said, lighting up. “Thank you, I like Professor Brazened as well. He was based off an old teacher of mine when I studied abroad.” “In Great Brinneigh? Or is it when you did that weird gap-year in Saddle Arabia?” “It was an internship, and it was in Great Brinneigh, yes,” Ambris corrected and then, despite herself, added, “and now I hope you’ll tell me the negative feedback.” “Oh, right. That. Ok.” Daring looked back at the pages and again cleared her throat. “Sooooo… first thing’s first. ‘Cinder blinked, her heart racing at the sight of the ruins. They were…” She failed to hide a snort. “‘They were legit’.” She turned to Ambris. “No.” “But—” “No. Trust me.” “...Well, so much for that wasted afternoon,” Ambris grumbled, grabbing her notes on young people vernacular and crumpling it up. She took a breath. “What else?”  “Uhm… What else… Oh! So, about Cinder… Hmmm…” She paused a moment and then said quite bluntly, “Yeah, okay, so her name has to go. You hafta change it.”  “What? Why?!” Ambris frowned. Cinder was a perfectly wonderful name, and especially for a character who grew up near a volcano. “What’s wrong with Cinder?” For the ghost of a second, Daring seemed to be suppressing a laugh.  “So, Cinder is fine, technically, but you want people my age to read this, right? Well, do you know what a hook-up app is?” Ambris pursed her brows “Yes, I think. That phone app young people use to… get intimately acquainted, shall we say. My niece was telling me about one the other day.” She tapped the pen against her chin. “What was it called? Oh, yes, Cind—” She cut herself short, and with a frown whispered, “Shoot.” Daring laughed, loud enough Ambris had to shush her.  “Yeeeeeeah,” Daring said once she’d composed herself. “Anyway, that’s not the only thing. She’s also kinda bland? I mean, she’s a character, sure, but even when you showed me last chapter, when she was talking with her sister, I remember getting confused between the two because she’s so… eh.” “I see,” Ambris said, more curtly than she intended. Catching herself, she took a deep breath and smiled to the younger woman. “Thank you. I’ll… do some revisions and see how I can make her character more interesting.” “Okay, my turn.” Daring wheeled herself back and then gripped onto her chair’s arm rests for courage. “Go!”  “Well—” “I got a thirty percent score! Sixty! Ninety? Twenty! It was a sixty. I can deal with a sixty. It’s fine. Sixty is fine, sixty—” When Ambris cleared her throat, Daring quickly did the same. “Sorry.” Ambris reviewed the sheet one last time and then declared: “Eighty-two percent.” “Eighty-two?! Are you sure?” Daring gasped, wheeling forward and grabbing the test sheet. “Really? How do you know? You didn’t even look at the answer sheet!” “I know. A processual archaeologist would likely be attracted to all of the following except extensive descriptions of artifacts for description's sake, not—” “Hold on, hold on.” Daring grabbed the answer sheet and compared it with her test. After a minute, she sighed and pressed her head against the desk. “Damn it. I did get an eighty-two.” “An eighty-two is very good, Daring.” Daring didn’t lift her head. “Sure. Amazing. For some normal kid. But someone like me—” She thumped her fist against her wheelchair’s armrest. ”—has to prove way more than others. Ugh.” She sighed again, then lifted her head and reached for a book nearby. “Okay. The test isn’t until next week so I’ll just keep studying. I can do it.” “While you do that, I’m going to try and think of a new name for Cinder… followed by an entire new personality.”  Ambris sighed. Really, non-fiction books didn’t sell as well as fiction, but that wasn’t entirely too bad, right? She didn’t need to branch out, right? “You should call her Daring.” Ambris looked up towards the real Daring.  “Daring?” she asked, amused. “Like you? Why?” Daring grinned. “‘Cause Daring is a sick name for an explorer, duh! Just don’t give her my last name, or I’ll sue you if you don’t make her cool.” Ambris looked back to her pages. “Daring… I suppose that could work. I’ll think about her last name later. Now I just need her personality.” Daring grinned. “You can do it!” > III. The Podcast and the Trip to Braysil > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- From behind her glasses, Ambris Knot squinted at her web-browser, sipping tea as she read the latest drama in the world of young adult novels. Her editor had advised her to get to know her would-be-peers, and though they had juicy gossip, it still paled in comparison with the outlandish drama she read about in the scientific community.  Her reading was interrupted twice that afternoon: once by a child taking out seven books, and then asking what she recommended for an eighth book, which took much more time than she expected.  The second time was when, in the middle of her reading, a small notification popped up in the corner of her screen, reminding her that “The Logic of Archeology” had just uploaded their latest podcast.  “Oh. Oh!” she gasped, clapping her hands together and inadvertently drawing the attention of several curious readers. After a few apologetic smiles, she clicked on the notification and read the description for the new episode.  “Daring.” The name tumbled out of her mouth, and before she knew it, she’d scrambled out of her desk and strode off to explore the library. After several turns, and a dozen minutes getting distracted discussing a book with a regular patron, she finally found her target wheeling herself into the psychology section, a stack of books on her lap.  “Oh, hey, Missus K!” Daring greeted with a wave. She then grabbed some of the books and put them back in their place. “I’m nearly done with these books, by the way, so can you put this one up there?” She handed Ambris a book. “Anyway, so I’m nearly done, in case you needed me for something else. I also cleared up the kids area, and—” “Nevermind those,” Ambris quickly said, grabbing the stack of books from Daring’s lap and putting them into a nearby basket. “I’ll take care of them later.” “What? But you said—” “The podcast updated! And it’s about the Caved-In Ruins!”  Daring’s eyes widened. “No way! But—” She shifted awkwardly. “Uh. Well. What about my shift?” “Nevermind that,” Ambris exclaimed, walking over and taking the wheelchair. “I—” She moved it a little further, and then quickly let go at the sight of Daring’s uncomfortable expression. “Oh! Oh dear, I’m sorry, I got excited—” “No worries!” Daring said, taking back control of her wheelchair. “Thanks for apologizing.”  Ambris cleared her throat and continued, “In any case, I dictate your shifts, and I believe you’re due for a break.” As per their weekly ritual, they sat together at the main desk and shared earphones to listen in. That week’s podcast was all about the Caved-In Ruins outside the outskirts of Brayzil’s capital, which Daring excitedly and repeatedly pointed out she’d be visiting in a few months.  “I’m so excited!” she exclaimed once the podcast was over, wheeling herself in circles. “I’m definitely going to go see the Swinging Vine Jungle, too! I read that tourists are allowed to swing from some of the bigger vines, and I’m slowly convincing mom to let me do it too.”  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Ambris asked, carefully putting away her earphones.  “The guide said it’s fine, plus there’s nets at the bottom, plus my therapist said I had really good upper body strength, so I could definitely swing it.”  Ambris hummed thoughtfully.  “That’s an interesting visual.” She grabbed a nearby notebook and jotted something down. “I could have Daring swinging away from enemies there.” She turned to the real Daring and pointed at her with the tip of her pen. “You’ll have to bring me photos and notes for the book!” Daring nodded enthusiastically. “I will! I already saved up for a better camera and everything.” She leaned forward and read the notes. “Did you figure out what last name you wanted for Daring?” “No,” Ambris said, annoyed. “I’ve thought of a few options, but none really fit her personality. I’m starting to wonder if she’ll ever have a full name.” “Hey, it’s cool!” Daring reassured her. “You can do it!” > IV. Absence > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The phone call had been brief. She was really sorry, Daring had said, her voice quite low, but she couldn’t volunteer this week.  Thank you for understanding.  Ambris hadn’t dared asked what was wrong. She supposed she’d find out eventually. It was a lonely week in the library. > V. The Slow Path > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A smile pushed itself onto her lips at the sight of a girl and her wheelchair waiting by the entrance of the plaza. The first thing she noticed was that Daring seemed fine, which brought with it immense relief for Ambris. She was fine.  The second thing she noticed was Daring wasn’t moving. Not wheeling herself in circles, not reading a book, not anything. Just staring into the distance. Ambris was no longer certain she was fine.  “Daring Sun,” Ambris greeted, maintaining her smile. “You’re here early.” “Oh, hey, Missus K.” She only half-smiled. “Sorry about last week,” she said, and nothing more. She gestured to the library. “Let’s go?” “Why, Daring Sun!” Ambris exclaimed, playfully crossing her arms. “No race today?”  “Sorry, Missus K, no race today,” Daring half-heartedly replied, and so did Ambris’ smile vanished. “I’m not feeling up to it.” And that was that.  > VI. The Break Room > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- They were in the break room when it happened. Lunchtime was usually a loud affair, the two of them engaged in archaeological conspiracy theories more often than not.  But that time was quiet.  Quiet as Ambris ate her sandwich, and quiet as Daring poked at her salad. Something was wrong—it didn’t take a genius to notice—but Ambris felt at a loss for how to ask or even whether she could ask. Daring was by no means a child, already one foot towards college, but all Ambris could see at that moment was a child in pain.  And children liked presents, didn’t they? “I have something for you,” the older woman said, putting her sandwich away and reaching for a bag next to her.  “Is it books?” Daring asked, and when Ambris gave her a look, she mustered an amused smile despite whatever was wrong. “Hey, hey. I like books.” “I would hope so, or else I’ve taught you nothing,” Ambris replied.  A moment later, she took out three colorful photography books depicting ancient ruins on their covers. Ruins of Brayzil: A Look into History was the first, which was a must when visiting Brayzil, and the second book was a personal favorite of Ambris’: Caved In: Secrets and Treasures of the Sao Maneigh Ruins.  “Here you go,” she said, handing the precious books to her friend with a wide smile. “For you.” Daring gingerly took the books into her hands, stunned. “Oh… Oh, wow… Missus K, this is—” She cut herself off and affection overwhelmed Ambris when she saw tears fill Daring’s eyes. Daring noticed too, and quickly wiped her eyes. “Oh, uhm, sorry.” “They’re first editions, too. Very few left,” she added. She gestured to one of the books. “And I left a little note for you. Something to show your friends when I’m a best-selling author!” Daring adjusted the books on her lap and then opened one of them to find an elegantly written message splashed across the first page. She read it quietly at first, and it wasn’t until her eyes watered anew that she spoke in a choked whisper:  “To the original Daring, my dear friend and constant source of inspiration. Love, Ambris Knot.”  A gentle silence hung in the air, Daring clutching the book, muted into silence by… shock? Joy? Both?  “I hope you like them,” Ambris continued. “They should prove very useful during your trip.” Finally, the girl spoke. “Thanks, Missus K,” she said, her voice hoarse. She wiped her eyes again and closed the book. “This is… This is really cool. Like, really. But, uhm... But…” She drifted off, one of her hands digging into her armrest as she tearfully continued, “My, uhm… my parents cancelled the trip to Brayzil.” And now.  Now the silence hung heavy. “...What?” Ambris gawked at the girl. “They what?” “It-It’s okay, though!” Daring quickly exclaimed, Ambris’ shock having jolted her back. She tried to smile. “It’s fine! Really! It’s because my—” She faltered, choking on her words. “The doctor he told us about this, uhm…”And again, her nails dug into her armrests. “He told us about this experimental therapy that could—could work for me next year, and so—so my parents decided to—” Her cracking voice lowered even more. “To save up for that instead.” “I… I’m sorry, Daring.” “But it’s fine!” Daring insisted, wiping away at her tears. “It’s fine, really! It’s okay! It’s just experimental, but it might help me, and it’s way more important than some…” She swallowed. “Some dumb trip, anyway.” Ambris didn’t quite know what to say. Or if she could even say anything at all. But she wanted to say something.  “Daring,” she said, lightly putting a hand on Daring’s knee, “it’s alright to be upset.” Daring blinked at her, surprised, and then just as fast did she look down, the tears rolling down her cheeks.  “I guess… I’m just tired. I’m tired, you know? And I just wanted this one thing. Just this one dumb trip, and… And…” She swallowed hard. “I… I really wanted to go.” Before Ambris could say anything, she gritted her teeth and slammed her fist against her arm rest. “Fuck!” She then remembered Ambris was there and blushed. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” “Considering what’s happened, I’ll allow it,” Ambris said, and she couldn’t help a smile when Daring, for the first time that day, laughed.  “Thanks, Missus K,” she said sincerely, still sniffling. She wiped her eyes for the last time and grinned. “I’ll be okay! I will. I can do it.” Ambris returned the smile. “Yes, you can.” > VII. The Request > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- There would be no backing down here. No conceding, no making allowances, no losing.  Ripple might be the director, but she was Ambris Knot. He had a big office, sure, decorated with all sorts of antique relics and rare books, but the library itself was her office. She was the heart and soul of that entire place, and—! And—! “Yes, I know you have tenure, Ambris,” Director Ripple said with a big, boisterous laugh, adjusting the sleeves of his suit before folding his hands on his desk. “Nearly thirty-four years! Almost as long as I’ve been here. You are invaluable, but...” He leaned in. “Your tenure isn’t what you came to discuss, is it?”  She shook her head.  “No. I came to discuss the holiday party from three years ago.” His brow furrowed. “The holiday party from three years ago? Is that the one where Frost Flower accidentally toppled the punch bowl onto her husband?” “No, that was two years ago,” Ambris said. “Remember we had the award ceremony with the mayor the next day and we were all drunk?” “Yes, yes!” Ripple exclaimed, delighted. “Daring Sun and Tumbleweed had to accept the award on our behalf!” He leaned back and sighed, relishing the fond memory. “Mayor Scroll Weather would have been livid if she wasn’t drunk, too… Anyhoo!” He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “You were saying about the holiday party?” “Yes, yes.” She took a moment, and continued, “I’ve come to collect, Ripple.” He blinked at her. “Collect?” “Yes, collect. You brought up that night the fact that I hadn’t taken vacations in nearly two years, and—” “You still haven’t taken them!” Ripple exclaimed. “In… one, two… nearly five years now!”  She smiled. “That’s correct. You even said that night that you’d finance a trip for me somewhere if it meant I’d take a break.” He laughed. “I did, didn’t I? But what does—” His smile faded. “Oh.” She smiled politely. “Oh, indeed.” She retrieved a folder from her bag and extracted several stapled papers which she then handed to him. “I’d like to go to Brayzil.” “Ah! To see the ruins for that novel you were telling me about? Interesting,” he said, taking his glasses from the desk and putting them on. He squinted at the papers. “What am I looking at?” “The first page is our finances, and where the money can come from. Digitizing our books and providing online versions has increased our paid memberships, and our weekly ‘Save Energy for the Planet’ events have cut down our electricity bill quite a lot. There’s also a few other things I’ve done to save money, which are detailed on page two. Page three is the budget of the trip, from hotel and plane costs, to additional spending and leisure money. “Additionally, pages five and six are some letters from the Sao Maneigh Public Library. They’ve kindly agreed to donate left-over books that can be found exclusively in Brayzil, and the trip would allow me to sign the contract in person—it’s the last page on there, no, the very last, yes, that one—Anyway, this would also make the trip beneficial to the library.” “Hrm…” Ripple squinted at the papers, going back and forth between them. “Are you sure these are right? These prices are high for one perso—Wait a minute, of course they’re high! You made a mistake!” He showed her the budget. “This is a budget for a four person trip!”  “Ah, yes,” Ambris said, smiling innocently. “This is where my thirty-four years of indispensable service come into play. I’d like to take a research assistant with me, as well as her parents in an official researching capacity, as well.” “Hrrrrm… This will take some convincing with the board, I’m afraid.” “That’s quite alright,” Ambris said, leaning in and putting a hand over his. “I’m sure you can do it.” > VIII. Hidden Tribes and Secret Airships > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So,” Daring Sun said, wheeling after Ambris and helping her rearrange books, “this is going to sound like I made this up, but—” “Yes, that’s usually how made up things start,” Ambris mused, inserting a book into an open space.  “Wait, wait, listen!” Daring exclaimed, handing a book to Ambris. “Look, you know how the Somisto people disappeared from Saddle Arabia thousands of years ago, and no one knows what happened to them?” “Hand me that book, won’t you? And yes, I know.” “Okay, and you know how—” “The book!” “Okay, okay!” She handed Ambris a book and then continued. “So, as I was saying…” She opened a book and showed Ambris a photograph of an ancient ruin decorated with designs of stars drawn inside of squares. “—the Somisto Ruins near Ao-Kazar Citadel are full of these symbols, because the Somisto thought they were stars that had fallen to earth, and they thought the earth was square?” “I thought this was made up, not proven facts?” Ambris asked, moving off to the next aisle.  “I’m getting to that!” Daring promised, putting down the book and wheeling after Ambris. Once they’d stopped, she grabbed one of the books Ambris had gifted her and opened it to a photograph of different ruins.  “Now look at this photo of a Xokomi temple from Brayzil! Look at these designs!” She turned the page to a different photograph that showcased a decaying wall filled with designs of stars inside of circles.  Ambris peered down at the photograph. “Interesting. What’s your theory?” Daring’s eyes lit up, and she closed the book.  “What if—hear me out—What if the Somisto’s had to leave Saddle Arabia for whatever reason—maybe Mt. Amaspi erupted or something—and somehow they crossed the sea and arrived to the shores of Brayzil, specifically—”  She grabbed a different book and opened it up to the photograph of a different temple.  “Sinhao,” Ambris completed, “where the Tolomis lived.” “Right! And the Tolomis weren’t just a fishing tribe, but they were also astronomists. They knew that the earth is a sphere so! What if the Somisto’s arrived to Sinhao, met with the Tolomis, and then migrated to the jungle because it reminded them of home, and restarted their society as the Xokomis and—” She grabbed the previous book again and opened it up to the photographs of the stars inside circles. “And they changed their symbols to match the fact that the earth was round, and BOOM!” She closed the book and crossed her arms, grinning. “I just figured out what happened to the Somisto.” “In which case I’ll have to remind you of the problem every other person who’s had that theory runs into,” Ambris said, going back to re-organizing her books. “The Somisto lived in the jungle, miles and miles away from any kind of water surface except for small rivers that couldn’t sustain anything larger than maybe a raft. There’s absolutely no records that they knew how to construct any sort of proper maritime vessel, let alone be able to successfully cross an entire ocean.” She turned to Daring. “How do you explain that?” Daring frowned. “...They had secret airships?” she suggested, and when Ambris rolled her eyes, she continued, “Okay, obviously not, but that would be incredible, right?! An ancient tribe having airships!” To be completely honest, that was an appealing idea, and her fictional Daring Last-Name-Pending still needed a groundbreaking discovery to make in the book.  “I might use that for my book, I think,” she announced, making a mental note about it. “But it will require a lot of research of the Xokomi ruins.” She paused to bite down a smile and carefully added, “I suppose I’ll add that into our schedule for our trip to Brayzil with your parents.” Daring blinked. “...Our what?” “Our trip,” Ambris informed, pushing up her glasses. “The board approved my request for a fully-financed research trip to Brayzil, and they’ve agreed to let me bring you and your parents as my ‘assistants’’ .” “No,” Daring gasped, rolling her chair back. “No way! No! Missus K, are you kidding?! Please don’t be kidding! Really?!” “Really, if your parents allow it.” “Oh my gosh,” Daring whispered, stunned. “Oh my gosh? I’m going to Brayzil? I’m going to Brayzil! I’m going to—” “If your parents agree!” “I’m going to swing from the vines, and then we can go to the stadium and! And we can show my parents the ruins properly, and you can tell them about your books, and we can research together, and—! And—!” She stopped abruptly, trying to compose herself, her breathing coming out in heavy gasps. “Oh my gosh.”  Ambris laughed.  “Before you have a heart attack, why don’t you tell your parents I’ve invited you all to dinner Friday night at my house, and we can discuss it with them.” “O-Okay!” Daring exclaimed, tears wetting her eyes. “Oh, wow, Missus K, you’re the best, holy fu—dgesicles! Thank you so much! What can I do to repay you?!”  “Dear girl, you’ve already done more than enough.” > IX. A Name Hidden In Plain Sight > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ambris Knot had a strange name.  Well, not a strange name, just one that didn’t sound all that nice or interesting and certainly not one that, according to her editor, would inspire people to pick up her books.  And she agreed. In the past months, she’d poured herself into imagining a fiction book all about an archaeological explorer going off on intrepid adventures. She had finally come up with a penname she liked, figured out most of the outline and the settings, and had a main character she was proud of.  All she needed now was to write it, and… To finally decide on a proper last name for her protagonist.  As she made her way towards the library at exactly seven in the morning, wrapped up in a big shawl and a hat that hid her graying hair, Ambris Knot decided she’d let fate figure that out for her.  For now, she was more interested in greeting the young woman waiting by the entrance to the plaza.  “Hey, Missus K!” Daring exclaimed, waving at her. “Only three more Saturdays until Brayzil! Have you been practicing your running for when we race Dad at the stadium?!” “As I’ve said many times before, Daring Sun, I’m too old to race anybody.” “That’s not true! If you start training now, you’ll be fine for the trip!” Daring insisted. “In fact, I have a good feeling about today! I bet you could even win against me! Please? One time?” Ambris sighed. “... I’ll consider it.” “Wait, really? You can’t change your mind! I’m starting before you change your mind!” With that, she sped off.  “I said I’ll consider it, not I’ll do it!” Ambris yelled, laughing. “Dooooo it!”  Daring’s plea rang through the empty plaza, drawing forth a smile from Ambris’ lips. A quiet, peaceful moment, the two words echoing in her mind.  And then it hit her. “Do it,” she repeated, the cogs in her brain turning.  Do it.  The name left her lips as naturally as if it had always been there, biding its time.  “Daring Do.” Daring Do. An obvious, simple name she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought about earlier. But there it was now, and the more she thought about it, the more she could see her protagonist, clearly and vividly, the intrepid explorer breaking into ancient ruins, running away from bad guys, making discoveries the world could only dream of, inspiring people everywhere to discover the wonders of the world.  Daring Do.  That was it. The missing piece that came out as an awed whisper:  “The Amazing Adventures of Daring Do, by A.K. Yearling.” Ambris Knot laughed.  And then? She ran.