Piraen nodded as the man nearby spoke. At least someone else isn't having all the fun.
"Papers, mostly. I can't read what's on them. They're too worn." Pi shrugged, then sat. He picked at the corner of a page, not all that concerned with the safety of the paper. "I guess I wouldn't be able to read it if they weren't, so it probably doesn't even matter." He shrugged once more, his ego a bit sore from admitting aloud his incompetence. It wasn't an abnormal aversion to being in the dark. Pi knew everyone was bad something, and that everyone couldn't know everything. That didn't mean, however, that it didn't bug him any time an answer wasn't clear to him.
Piraen rummaged through the papers and books indignantly. His head was fixed to his hand as his fingers flipped the pages out of his way one by one. His mind wandered, choosing to think about the ex-inhabitants instead. Piraen originally thought that the large shelves in this room meant that they were were large. After a few ticks he realized that was impossible: the shelves were the only large furnishings there. Everything else was the same size as him. It appeared that, instead of their bodies being large, it was their mental capacity that was big. The previous owner of this library clearly thirsted for knowledge. I mean, if they took the time and money to put in a library, then they probably had to have liked something about learning.
Pi wondered if that thirst belonged to one person, or to multiple. Perhaps that was why the room was so large...it was communal. A room so large that all lessons could be archived in one place. Like a library... Pi couldn't recall ever coming across a public library before, his time in the floating city included. He wondered if Ravok even had one. There were very few in the world. As he understood it, most the books were destroyed by the Valterrian. Not these, though.
Just then, a thought hit the tailor."What if this was a public library?" Piraen wondered aloud, loud enough for whomever was in the next few aisles to hear. "What if we're in an underground town or city?" Piraen was no historian or anthropologist, but the idea still excited him.
His interest was sparked once again, and he began to shuffle through the pages with more fervor. If the nearby man responded, then the response would fall upon a distracted Pi; Piraen only "mhmm"ed in return. He began to flipped over a page, but it slid to the floor. In fact, when he looked to the floor he saw that many papers had done the same. He picked the papers up, set them on a flat spot on the desk, and then searched for the interloper.
After a few ticks, he found the culprit: a pillow. The tailor laughed. Apparently this researcher fell asleep on the job enough times to warrant bringing a pillow with him. Pi dug the pillow out, fluffing it in between his hands. He made a sturgeon face, appreciating the fact that the pillow still held a decent amount of fluffiness inside them. After quickly glancing around, Pi laid his head onto the pillow. It was pleasant, if one could ignore the cloud of dust and dirt that flew off of it.
Piraen wasn't one of those people, so he flinched away. Holding the pillow between both hands, Pi did a once over of the whole thing. Despite his surprise for it lasting this long, Pi thought it to be a normal pillow. He did a small shrug of disappointment before placing the pillow back down.
"What . . . ?" Piraen squinted as he caught a glimpse of something strange. As he went to put the pillow down, he thought he saw the flames burst out of the lantern. Could this be a magic pillow?! Piraen eagerly raised the pillow, watching carefully for the flames to jump once more. To his surprise, though, Pi found that the flames didn't move. Instead, they just shone through the pillow. As Pi twisted and turned the object in front of the lantern, the flame patterns and colors appeared on both sides of the fabric. It was almost as if it was made of some sort of glass.
That can't be right... Piraen jumped up, toting the pillow in one hand and the lantern in the other. He raised the lantern, his eyes eagerly searching for someone to share his discovery with. Perhaps it was just him he could see it. Perhaps the others would see something different. Either way, he just had to show somebody his shiny new toy.