Maor drifted through the Hall of Life, keenly aware that a guest had arrived. Visitors to The Library were rare and he took great pleasure in serving each one. A sea of books slid silently into the distance as he made his way down the central aisle until he found his destination.
His visitor stood statuesque, eyes locked onto a single book. Dark brown hair hung loosely over his broad shoulders. He appeared to be young, though it was always difficult to tell. The muscles of a warrior tried to hide themselves beneath the robes that hung down to the floor with about as much success as a mountain hiding beneath a curtain. Maor greeted the angel with a quietness that had nothing to do with their surroundings.
“Welcome to The Library. My name is Maor. How may I serve you?”
The angel reluctantly tore his gaze away from what he had obviously come to see and measured the librarian with a glance.
“My name is Lavi. I… I came to see a book.”
Maor studied his guest in return. He saw uncertainty in his eyes that betrayed a weakness his massive physique would never reveal.
“Well then you have come to the right place. I would make a recommendation, but it appears that you know exactly which book you seek.”
Lavi’s eyes returned to the shelf again.
The librarian matched Lavi’s silence for what could have been a second or an eon if time existed in The Library.
“Which one is yours?”