It is time. The great helix of the geochronograph must have raised its dark flag; the Timekeeper may come to the Library’s hall to announce its advent, but Enit, Head Librarian, will already be gone, as this moment is etched in his spirit as deeply as in any stone.
In this time of darkness, Enit leaves the Library to old man Nallab. He leaves his own long-standing friendship with the man at the Library’s doors as well, all its small joys, their inside jokes and complexities, his filtering of the Library’s old saurian thoughts into patterns a man could understand and the way Nallab in turn filtered Enit’s labyrinthine ruminations into the Library’s practical policies. It is a good partnership. Nallab will take good care of the living, material aspect of that place, as Enit once again delves into the other side.
Across the Old Bridge, past the greenhouses, the bustling streets and canals of Waterfall City take no heed of a lone Deinonychus wearing the raiments of a pilgrim. He was never the face of the Library. Today, he is nothing. The day is still young as he reaches the stone steps of the Pyramid of the Moon. Its gate is open. Enit leaves the sun behind. It is time.
Dinosaurs such as he, it is said, think better on their feet. The Labyrinth of the Moon, then, by its very nature invites meditation, suggesting slowness through its twists and vast dark chambers, edging ever closer to stillness. Enit breathes deep, seeks emptiness. This place is a collection of absence and he is a scholar here.
At the end of the path, the Shrine of Mystery awaits like a revelation. From its Northern balcony, the Library shines in the distance, a small flame against the vastness of the night.