Bibliotheca of Sophia

The Bibliotheca begins at the Portico of First Axioms, a trellis arch of white ivory and black steel, the signature of Arcadia, that opens only for those bearing a Writ of Inquiry. Beyond it descends a helical stair whose very risers are etched with the postulates of geometry, rhetoric, and the eight schools of magic, so that every step taken is also a lesson in law and learning. The stair leads into the Stack-Canyons, vast cavern-boulevards where towering shelves of stone rise like cliffs, pierced by light-wells that channel the brilliance or shadow of the Orb of Day and Night, changing in an instant with its Binary Flip.   Within these halls lies the Demonstrarium, tiered like an amphitheater, where spells are proved and tested as if they were theorems; every casting is faithfully recorded by lumen-scribes, pale sigils of living light who index each entry for future reference.   Deeper still lies the Palimpsest Lake, a still and silvery basin that, when named under oath, reveals erased texts and forgotten rulings shimmering upon its surface. Crossing these chambers are the Index Bridges, delicate lattice walkways inscribed with concordances; speaking their words aloud causes the stacks themselves to shift and realign, producing precisely the book, scroll, or case that is sought.  

Notable Locations

The Bibliotheca’s keepers are the Sophic Curators, petitioners who in life chose truth before triumph and now devote themselves to cataloging, witnessing oaths, and ensuring safe passage between Arcadia and the Prime, mostly including Aeons. They are assisted by Lexigraphs, brass-and-vellum constructs who copy grimoires with unfailing accuracy and chime gently when they detect contradiction. Standing guard are Ivory Planetars and Foo Guardians, watchful protectors of parley and lawful conduct, stationed especially near the halls that open into the Prime.  

Inhabitants

The Orb’s sudden Binary Flip can plunge a gallery from noon to midnight in the space of a heartbeat, leaving travelers disoriented unless they carry lamps and keep to the bell-count. Those who attempt to sow confusion or falsify records attract Civic Scrutiny that grows in quiet intensity: first a single curator appears, then a watchful warden, and finally the catalog itself closes against them. Unlike the scarred fields elsewhere in Buxenus, the Bibliotheca serves as a Planar Scar Buffer, where morale rises cleanly, healing flows fully, and mercy tempers every remedy.   Still, chaos weighs heavily here: Citation Drag makes every attempt to rewrite fact feel thick and sluggish, forcing chaotic magics to succeed against resistance or else fizzle with the dry cough of torn parchment.   The halls of Sophia reward clarity. Divinations that pursue truth rather than rumor are sharpened by the plane itself, and even before a clerk proves it false, a forged paper feels subtly wrong to the hand. Those who make a vow of honest purpose may pluck fruit from the Portico’s orchard; each piece tastes of rain and bright copper and reproduces the effect of a common potion, though never frivolously. Labor too is honored, for within the walls any crew that works in cadence may once per day treat a failed craft or profession as if aided by skilled helpers.   Finally, the Proof of Orders shines through every corridor: divinations that ask who may lawfully give a command gain uncommon clarity, while forged warrants betray themselves by a warmth that lingers until the lie is revealed.