The heavy silence of the library pressed down on Dovak as he moved between the towering shelves.
"Hey, guys! This is not funny!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the endless corridors of books.
Nothing.
His heart pounded. He had lost sight of the others so suddenly that, at first, he thought it was a joke. A stupid prank, maybe. But after minutes of searching, the uneasy feeling gnawing at his chest told him otherwise.
Then—something changed.
The bookshelves, once pristine, began to decay. The further he walked, the worse it got.
Burnt edges, charred wood and the overwhelming scent of ash.
Dovak slowed. His usually steady hands twitched as he reached out, touching a shelf that crumbled at his fingertips.
Then, just ahead—
A section had been completely incinerated.
Nothing remained but blackened ruins and piles of dust, as if a great fire had devoured everything. The sight pulled at something deep inside him—something he refused to name.
Dovak crouched, scooping up a handful of ash. He let it slip through his fingers, the remnants weightless yet suffocating.
"What the hell is this…?" he muttered.
A voice answered.
"Dovak Anir."
Deep. Smooth. Unshaken.
Dovak’s entire body tensed. He turned sharply—instinct driving him to react before he even processed the words.
And there, standing just beyond the scorched shelves, was the Librarian.
Dark garments. Travel-worn attire. Green eyes that gleamed with something unreadable.
"Damn, pal!" Dovak let out a nervous chuckle, masking the unease curling in his gut. "You scared the life out of me. Listen, uh… would you mind explaining where the hell I am? Pretty sure this isn’t the public section of the library."
The Librarian studied him. Not with suspicion. Not with amusement, but with something deeper.
Dovak shifted his stance. That stare? He had seen it before. It was the kind that stripped away every wall, every layer of armor he built to keep himself from cracking.
Then, the Librarian spoke.
"There is no need for that facade with me."
Dovak’s grin froze.
His body stiffened, muscles coiling like a trapped animal.
“…I don’t…” His voice wavered. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Yes, you do."
The words cut through him like a blade. The Librarian’s voice wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t cruel.
It was simply the truth.
"I know the weight you carry."
Dovak couldn’t move.
"I know the way you cope."
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Something inside him cracked.
His fingers twitched. His throat went dry. For the first time in a long time, there was no laugh, no sarcastic remark, no casual shrug to brush it off.
Just silence.
"If you continue letting this burden hold you back," the Librarian said, his voice unwavering, "you will never grow. You will never form true bonds. You will never reach your goal. And you will not survive."
Dovak’s breath hitched.
The ashes slipped from his fingers.
And for the first time, he felt their weight.
"The guilt you carry was never yours to begin with," the Librarian continued, his tone softer now. "Accept what happened. Only then will you be able to break free and unlock your true potential."
Dovak’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The words cut deep. Deeper than any blade. Deeper than any wound he had ever endured.
His entire life, he had carried it.
The weight of his past. The failures. The people he couldn't save.
He never spoke about it. He never even let himself think about it. He buried it under laughter, under bravado, under an easygoing mask that made everyone believe he was fine.
But now—right now—the mask was cracking.
The Librarian took another step forward, though his presence already loomed over him.
"You are meant to be the light that guides others," he said, his voice unwavering. "The one who unites the scattered and the divided. But only if you first learn to let go of your own chains."
Dovak’s breath was unsteady. His hands trembled at his sides.
Let go? How could he?
How did someone simply let go of something that had defined them for so long?
The memories flashed like a burning reel of film.
The village engulfed in flames. The screams. The smell of charred wood and bodies. The realization that he was too late.
His jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together. If he let go, what was left of them?
But the Librarian’s words lingered, wrapping around him like an inescapable truth.
Then—his voice lowered, quieter, almost teasing.
"And one last thing," the Librarian said. "You needn’t worry about how others judge who your heart desires. Stay true to your feelings."
Dovak’s eyes widened.
The tension in his chest—so tightly wound for years—snapped like a frayed rope.
But before he could respond, before he could even begin to process what had just been said—
The Librarian vanished. The oppressive darkness lifted, the burnt shelves were gone and the heavy scent of ash disappeared.
Dovak was back in the normal part of the library.
But he felt like a man who had just stepped out of a storm—soaked, shaking, and utterly exposed.
His knees buckled.
He collapsed, gripping his chest as the flood of emotions slammed into him all at once.
Memories. Regrets. Pain. He had been holding it in for years.
Every forced laugh, every joke at his own expense. Every time he pretended it didn’t hurt.
His shoulders trembled.
His breathing came out in shaky, uneven gasps.
His entire body felt heavy, but for the first time—he wasn’t sure if it was from carrying the weight… or finally letting some of it go.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
And for the first time in years—Dovak let himself cry.
“Hey!”
A voice snapped him out of it.
His breath hitched as he sharply turned, instinctively rubbing at his face before lowering his hands as he heard footsteps approaching. William rounded the corner, slowing when he spotted him.
Dovak quickly straightened up, rolling his shoulders like nothing happened.
“…You good?” William asked, his tone careful.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dovak replied—too quickly. He forced a grin, pushing himself to his feet. “Just—uh—just had a crazy hallucination. There were burnt books everywhere—” he waved his hands in exaggerated motions, “—ash in the air! Probably got some in my eyes. Yeah, that’s definitely what happened.”
William just stared at him. His gaze flickered to the faint redness around Dovak’s eyes.
“Were you—”
“No!” Dovak cut in immediately. Too loud. Too fast. “No way, man. Don’t be ridiculous.” He let out a forced laugh. “I don’t even know the meaning of the word ‘cry.’”
William remained quiet. Then, after a moment, he sighed.
“…I went through something too,” he admitted, shifting his weight. He glanced away, running a hand through his hair.
Dovak’s grin faltered slightly.
William hesitated, then met his gaze.
“The Librarian?”
They said it at the same time.
They froze—then exchanged a knowing look.
“…Yeah,” Dovak muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bastard played us.”
William let out a stiff chuckle. “Yeah… yeah, seems like it.”
Neither of them pushed further. Neither of them wanted to talk about what really happened.
Not yet.
Footsteps echoed behind them.
“Did you find Claire?”
Nigel’s voice cut through the quiet, making both of them jolt slightly.
He appeared from between the shelves, his expression unreadable. His amber eyes flicked between them, noting the tension—but choosing not to comment.
Dovak’s demeanor snapped back instantly. With a dramatic gasp, he lunged forward.
“I thought we lost you!” He threw his arms open. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”
Nigel sidestepped him effortlessly.
“We need to find the rest and get out of here,” he said flatly.
Dovak huffed. “Fine, fine, kill the moment, why don’t you.”
William snorted.
With that, the three of them set off once more, navigating through the towering shelves in search of their missing teammate, having forgotten their original goal for coming to the library.
