"Have you left the dream, my friend?" the Book speaks.

My thoughts are dominated by an awful headache. I feel incredibly tired, my foremost wish being to go back to sleep again, but I strain myself to stay awake so that I can listen to what the Book has to say.

"Do not worry about staying awake. I am capable of communicating with you regardless whether or not you are asleep."

I feel relieved, letting my body relax back into the comfortable position which I had maintained in my sleep. Alright, I'm listening.

"You saw earlier what Dan thinks of me?"

I think back on the conversation Dan and I had before I went to bed. He seemed really worried.

"He despises me. He's afraid of me. He sees me as a threat to your existence... which is, of course, consequently a threat to your own."

I reluctantly accept the Book's interpretation. A part of me feels repulsed by the idea of being so dependent upon the Book, and so easily influenced by its thoughts... but that part of me is selfish and naive. What else am I supposed to believe?

"Don't be fooled. His compassion for you focuses on a small aspect of your identity. He sees the rest of you as a monster, a consciousness to be repressed out of selective compassion for that small part of you. He wants to influence your consciousness as he sees fit. Does that sound like worry to you?"

Well... no. I mean, that's not exactly what I meant, but you're right, that doesn't exactly sound like worry.

"Exactly. So, now that we've come to the obvious conclusion of Dan's intentions, can you see the urgency of the situation? There's simply no way that Dan will enchant the skeleton armor. You must do it yourself."

Ah, yes. The armor. It's about time that it finally be enchanted. It's unfortunate that Dan can't do it for us, but it's in my hands now.

I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my body. The pain of the headache fades to a pleasant coolness, and I feel my muscles tense as my resolve solidifies, overcoming the blanket of tiredness. I open my eyes, seeing a plain ceiling of grey, jagged grooves, cast in deep shadow as the yellow paint of light thickens as it approaches its enigmatic, rocky source. A sense of vitality prompts me to lift my back up from underneath the covers. I carefully slip out to the left, mindful to keep the sheets on Jonas' side covered on top of his ever-present cloak.

Before I walk towards the door, I listen carefully to the silence with my ears, mindful of footsteps and voices. Everything is absolutely still. With caution, I approach the doorway, mindful of the infinitely louder tap that each of my footsteps make in the silence. I eventually reach for the door, and grasp the doorknob gently. To my relief, the door is already cracked slightly open, so with care, I slowly pull the doorknob inward towards the room. The hinges of the door begin to groan. I abruptly let go of the knob. This is not good. There's no question that Dan heard that tiny sound. He'll probably come looking for me soon. I have to move quickly.

The opening in the doorway is just big enough for me to slide through. I listen again for footsteps, but I still only hear silence. I slide sideways out the door and into the narrow hallway. The door on the other side, which leads to Dan's bedroom, is left cracked open. Is Dan inside? Is he asleep? What if he finds me?

"Don't let yourself be overcome by fear. A hard heartbeat is easier to hear... and nervous thoughts make you clumsy."

I know... it's just that... I feel so uncomfortable doing this. It's not like me to keep secrets... to sneak around at night without being seen.

"Now's not the time to question your honor. Let's keep focused on our goal: to enchant the armor."

Right, of course.

I look to the left, where the hallway leads to a dead end, and then to the right, where the staircase leads up to the library floor. I walk towards the stairs, mindful that with every step my foot rocks gently against the floor. I listen carefully to the still air, trying to pick out a sound. It is perfectly quiet.

As I walk onto the first step, I stretch my neck to see up the staircase. There is only the bottom of the wooden bookshelves, and not a sound. My chest feels as if it's filled with hot tar. Dan is going to spot me, I just know it! But I have to try...

I keep my head low. I tense my leg as I gradually lift my weight onto the next step, and with relief as my weight becomes focused on that foot, I lift the next foot up, and then the next, until the rows of bookshelves, with their hidden and many-tongued secrets, lower into view. I carefully peek to the left of the bookshelf in front of me, and see only the parallel shelves of books and flasks. I suppose it's safe enough to walk through.

As I step slowly, I look at the strange contents of the shelves. The letters on the bindings are written in strange ways; many are bordered in intricate, vine-like designs, and the color of some seems so artificially bright that the words seem to glow. Many books seem old, tattered, and faded, yet a surprising number of the old ones are written in Standard, although the lettering is unevenly proportioned, and the corners of the letters are more rounded like the Latin script.

I read the titles of some of the books as I pass slowly by. "Humans and Monsters." "Spawning Mechanics, Eighth Edition." "Understanding Village Culture." "The Hostility Divide." "Reverse Psychology." "The Mining Race." "Redstone and the Body." "Metaphysics of Crafting." "Canine Intelligence."

I feel my heart drop as I hear the coarse grinding of stone. The secret passageway must be opening!

A faint light appears on my left through the gaps in the books. I hear footsteps coming from that direction. I crouch down and squint as I try to see down the staircase. I see the waving grey fabric of Dan's cloak as he walks through the hall and towards the stairs. His pale face underneath his grey hood seems serious and wary as he walks briskly up the stairs. Does he know I'm here?

I hold my breath and tense myself in place, hoping that he doesn't walk through the bookshelves. As he reaches the top of the steps, he turns left towards the other staircase. I try to slowly sidestep right, timing my steps with his own. I reach the right end of the bookshelf, and crouch around its edge to wait behind it. I risk a glimpse to the right side of the bookshelf at Dan, as he walks away from me, behind the bookshelf, and down the stairs, with his shoes echoing on the narrow walls.

He seems to have left the secret passageway open. He'll probably come back soon to close it, so I better walk down there quickly before he notices me.

After waiting a short while for Dan's footsteps to fade, I quickly crouch toward the staircase, and carefully step down into the cool air of the hallway. I see the wide table again, but this time the chair is situated all the way in against the table, and there is only an ink stand and a closed book aligned neatly parallel with the edges of the table. Dan must have finished investigating the bones that were there earlier.

There are three passageways ahead, one on each wall. I know the one on the right leads to the kitchen, so I should try the one in the middle first.

I walk slowly around the table as I approach the passage. My back feels tense, expecting a sound to come from behind. I quicken my pace. The narrow hallway begins to descend as the floor turns to stairs. I feel a chill coarse up my throat as I am blinded by a white light, which takes the shape of a letter of the Standard alphabet. The angular pattern becomes ingrained in my thoughts; its orderly existence brings a sense of pleasant calmness. As the letter pulls away and the blinding light fades, I am tantalizingly drawn to follow it with my sight, until the letter descends into the flowing pages of a leather-bound tome, floating upon an obsidian pedestal adorned with diamonds.

Many other white letters seem to dance upon the pages and disappear into them, while other letters descend into the dance from books crammed into ceiling-high shelves surrounding me. The beautiful light-play could not be created by anything else but magic. The jittering letters seem to represent an ideal sense of being, knowledge without painful memories, wisdom without guilt. The tome below them emanates a power which instills in me a conviction that it cannot be anything else but a tome of enchantment.

I feel a hand grasp my shoulder. In panic, I grab the hand and push it off of me. I turn around, and lock eyes with Dan's vibrant blue irises. My stomach seems to flip over.

Dan gazes contemplatively. A silver sheen seems to glint from his eyes. Suddenly I feel hopelessly guilty, as if he has penetrated deep into my mind and is sifting through my memories.

"What have I done? I'm so sorry!" I feel soreness in my eyes as my sight becomes blurred with tears. I try to cough out the terrible burden of the guilt. My legs lock in defeat.

Dan's eyebrows lift, his eyes opening wide. "What wrong? Get a grip, man! Stop crying!"

Wait, he's not angry at me? Why? I'm so confused...

I take in a deep breath and wipe the tears from my eyes with my fingers. "I don't understand..."

"Don't understand what?" says Dan. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's just... I was trying to enchant something."

"Oh, that's no big deal!" Dan's mouth curls slightly into a smile. "I can enchant it for you if you want, whatever it is."

"Wait, what?" His response gets me completely off-guard. "You mean, you'd be willing to enchant my armor, just like that? You're not suspicious that the Book helped me make it, or the fact that I'm sneaking around here in the middle of the night?"

Dan eyes me with sarcastic disbelief, one brow raised as he glances at me sideways, smiling even more. "You've entirely misjudged me. I'm not quite that high-strung, my good friend. So, you want me to enchant your armor for you? Is that all?"

"Well... yea. I guess it is."

How is this possible? Dan isn't suspicious at all? He doesn't care about the fact that the Book has influenced me to do this, after all he knows about what's happened to me?

As Dan looks coolly at me, I feel temporarily detached from the existence of the Book. Somehow, by going against the Book's predictions, through that little offer of kindness, Dan liberated me from the seemingly unshakable permanence of the Book's truth. He really is here to help me, isn't he?