Herein I will utter to you the unutterable names of the boundless, fathomless, horrors we have been blessed to forget. Herein I will deliver unto you each of the damned keys, which open god-made doors. Herein I will say to you all caution, which you will not heed. Herein I will lay your doom. - Necronomaicon of M.·. S.·.
I walk into the vaulted library. The walls are water-slicked, and glassy. Each room is immeasurably tall, but rather small in "floor space". A winding balcony follows the shelves upwards, and down. Down is nearly impossible to get to, past a certain mark the library is flooded. The librarian alone is able to penetrate to the bottom - though it may be 'water', it is not water that floods this place. I have him find all of the books that hold reference to "Necronomicon", and keep them on a high shelf.
Some volumes are barely there, tatters, shreds, sodden, faded, burnt. Careful coaxing brings them back to readability. Others are fully fledged, and fall open with a touch. Some are locked with heavy hasps that must be prised with magick, not tools.
I heave one from it's shelf, and take it to the small reading room. There it falls open to a page, carefully illuminated in rust-colored 'ink', of two serpentine beings supporting an eye within a diamond.
It strikes me as funny, people speak of and write of the Akashic Libraries as some immutable fact, but does anyone ever go there and check something out? No, because that takes careful reading and transcription.
... It's worth the effort.