Today they were going on a trip to the coast. Karthus wrapped up Achlys in a sling and had her safely tucked over his shoulder, just as Elise had instructed him to do. He had selected two of his wraiths to accompany them that day, and after little delay, the party of four was off.

The bleak landscape of the Isles passed peacefully before them. Grey rocks, grey withered trees, and grey blasted ruins dotted the horizon, but there was color here too. The eerie blues and greens of balefire shocked the view with their cold vibrancy. In the faults left by the Ruination's earthquakes, it rose from the ground like smoke from a fire. It shrouded the wild, lesser spirits as they went wailing by. And in some places, it was a shimmering memory of what was there before. Achlys had been mesmerized by a dogwood tree that had perished while it was in full bloom. Bright, ghostly blossoms swayed in a wind that was not there and gave off a blue glow that was almost reminiscent of a spring sky.

As they neared their destination, new noises began to fill the air. Seabirds, ever the intrepid explorers, were one of the few living creatures that had made a home on the Isles. Over their cries came the sound of waves. This stretch of coast was not as calm as the beach Achlys had washed up on, and the waves dashed constantly against the sheer rocky cliffs and ruins of a lost city.

"Here we are, Achlys," Karthus said as they came to the crest of a hill, "the largest of the sunken cities, and the heart of the Shadow Isles."

Achlys began to babble excitedly as they looked out over the ruins. Karthus watched as her bright eyes darted from the toppled great towers, to the Vaults of Arcana, now partially sunken into the sundered ground, and to the docks, where the skeletons of ships lay broken upon the shore. Most notable of all though, was how the Black Mist writhed around the city's center like a living creature.

"Wa-wa-wa," she insisted as she waved her hands at the ocean.

"Not today," Karthus said, "we are not going down to the water. We have a library to explore."

He angled her so that she could look inland and pointed to circular structure that was still mostly intact thanks to its heavy stone walls.

"The grand library," Karthus said, "if we are to find a book for you, it would be there. If not, we will find the materials for me to craft one."

"Buh?" Achlys asked.

"Yes, book."

He pulled his own black tome from its place at his hip and showed it to her.

"Book," he repeated.

His finger pointed towards their destination and then back to the tome.

"Library, book. The library has books."

"Buh-buh!" Achlys repeated happily.

Her arms waved at the book and, in her excitement, she knocked Karthus's mitre off his head.

"Hat," Karthus instructed as he picked up his headdress and returned it to his head, "hat goes on head."

"Ha," Achlys stated.

"Very good. Hat."

"Ha!"

And with a giggle, she pushed the mitre down again.

"Ha-ha."

Karthus carried his hat as they glided through the streets after he had grown tired of Achlys knocking it off his head. And so "ha-ha-hat" became "ha-ha-hair," as she was now gumming on strands of his pale hair. Karthus ignored this the best he could, but he was surprised to learn that he could still feel her pluck strands. He could not let himself be distracted by such things as they traveled the ancient walkways.

His wraith guards scarred off the myriad of lesser spirits cursed to haunt the city, but he knew stronger ones dwelled here as well. For these, force may be needed. On this day though, there were none to be found. The streets had been emptied of everything but the crabs and gulls.

The blackened doors of the library stood before them. With a wave of the lich's hand, they pulled open slowly. Achlys's nose scrunched up in displeasure as the stench of the place assailed her; musty paper, rotten wood, and ancient decay mingled with distant ocean air. Karthus paid no mind to this, having long ago lost his sense of smell. His attention was instead turned on a destroyed artifact in the center of the library. Before the Ruination, this device stored the location of all the books and scrolls within, but now it only gave off an intense blue light. Weak trails of arcane magic spun from the core of the artifact to connect with its shattered remains scattered throughout the building.

Karthus's eyes followed these trails. He had followed a different path on each of his previous visits and had never found any children's books, so now it was time to pick and follow a new strand.

"Which one shall we follow, Achlys," he asked.

"Ooh-ah!" she responded with a flail of her hands.

She was pointing towards the second floor of the building. Toward the west wing, an Eternal Scrivener was writing about in a mess of scrolls. The being had died at its lectern, and now the confused spirit could do little but record the terrors it witnessed all over its body.

"Poor soul," Karthus said when he saw that Achlys was staring at it, "I have not been able to calm their minds, but I will be able to reach them some day."

"Sa," Achlys sighed.

"Yes, it is sad. It should be at peace, recording the wonders of our Isles for this library. But pay it no heed for now. We will still go to the second floor, but we will explore the east wing. Now watch this spell, I will teach it to you some day."

Karthus swept his arms before him and summoned the Mist. It swirled around his legs, raising him higher into the air and up towards the second floor. It dispersed back into the gloom after both the living and the undead had been safely deposited. Achlys's eyes were wide with surprise.

"We still have a long way to go before you will be doing that yourself. You still haven't learned to walk yet."

He reached back and gave her a soothing pat on the head.

"We have books to find now."

The pathways were illuminated by arcane light, allowing for Achlys to wonder at everything she saw. The seemingly endless piles of books and scrolls provided endless entertainment with their glowing titles or how the pages of some would turn by themselves. They came across one book that was forever repeating the final page aloud. When the voice was just about to finish the story, it would be cut off suddenly, only to begin the final page again a minute later.

Karthus had collected a few books for him to restore and was about to continue to a new section when a noise caught his attention. His wraiths caught it too, and they rushed to his side. They hissed silently as the whole library seemed to grow silent. Only the books without consciousness and the Scriveners, lost in their madness, still made noise. And from the growing quiet, the clanking of chains echoed through the library.