Beams of sunlight reached the vacant space that opened from the wide wooden door, leaving the boys’ mouth gaping. The chamber became immersed in the golden light, and as their eyes adjusted, the coldness radiating from the stone patio melted away, to be replaced with the warmth emanating in the sight unfolding before their eyes.

  First to step into the unknown would be Kajin, and behind followed Vasil and Phillip, never daring to trail far. However gradual their entrances were, the sound of their bare feet echoed throughout the whole chamber and not further, lifting settled dust with every step.

  The reflecting light revealed something that had remained beyond their puny trail of thought, something that had been foreign and strange to them. The room stretched for a long bit, fading into the darkness, covered with shelves atop shelves housing volumes on a variety of themes, as ancient as they were.

  The chamber before them carried a feeling similar to that of an ancient temple of knowledge, where the weight of time itself had settled into the dust covering the shelves. Rows upon rows of thick, leather-bound tomes, scrolls, and fragile-looking manuscripts sat in rigid alignment, their cracked spines betraying their age and strange engravings upon their cover.

  The vastness of the chamber, filled with this forgotten wisdom, was both awe-inspiring and intimidating, as if each volume was holding secrets that only the bravest might uncover. The three young boys, on the other hand, were unable to grasp the true value of such knowledge, stemming from an non educational background they could only observe and admire this collection. With the exception of one.

  “...” As Kajin's eyes drifted off, unwinding the brilliance of the spectacle before them, an idea occurred to him, aided by his memory. “Hey… Phillip.” His youthful voice breached the barrier of stillness that lay between them, prompting Phillip to speak.

  “What is it?” He asked in a curious tone as to Kajin’s inquiry. However, he waited a few moments, taking in the scenery one last time before asking Phillip. "Hadn’t you been a rich kid?"

  - - -

  The three boys, now heaped on top of each other, drew themselves near a corner of the room, one that had been riddled with a pile of volumes upon volumes. Phillip stood in front of the pile, squatting, appearing occupied and engrossed in a strange process of picking up books one by one, only to give them a fleeting glance, before discarding them into Kajin’s and Vasil’s open palms.

  Kajin could only handle holding the volumes for so long before he threw them even further than their original position. Vasil took care in protecting the valuable tomes but his efforts would quickly be futile as he would succumb to the weight of the books he had been holding, ultimately falling, spectacularly.

  "Unearthed any ancient wisdom yet, or just found more trash?" Kajin asked impatiently, quietly observing Phillip at his most proficient work, reading.

  "Ah, a fine collection of dust and scribbles. Quite the find, really." Phillip answered with the tiniest bit of sarcasm, almost none really, sparing no glance at Kajin.

  As his impatience rose by the second, Kajin began to toy with his surroundings, flinging books around and even pretending to read them. Yet, it didn't take long for boredom to set in, and with an exasperated groan, he turned to Phillip and asked in a sarcastic tone, "How can you be this sluggish? Weren't you supposed to be some brilliant reader, a star student, or whatever it was they called you as an aristocrat's son?"

  Without letting him reply, he spat once more and said, “You’d find more sense in a drunkard’s prayer than in those pages.” Plainly adding insult to injury.

  Phillip barely acknowledged him, casting only a fleeting side glance before resuming his search. He replied dryly, “How are you this stupid and don’t even know Bamivor? You speak it fluently, yet you can't read a word of it?”

  Kajin merely chuckled, rolling his head back lazily as he sprawled atop another heap of dusty tomes. With a dismissive shrug, he retorted in a relaxed drawl, “Alright, alright, whatever you say… Phillip, the much-born dung eater.”

  Phillip abruptly abandoned his task, whipping around to face Kajin, his expression contorted with sudden fury. "Listen here, you little shit," he spat, eyes blazing. "That was nothing but a slanderous rumour spread by jealous fools trying to tarnish my family's name. If you-"

  Phillip's tirade came to a sudden halt, words dying on his tongue, as a distant, echoing sound filled the chamber—a signal that spoke of a threat far graver than their petty quarrel. The air grew tense, both of them snapping their heads towards the source, their earlier hostility forgotten in an instant.

  A familiar sound rang across the hall, one that had chimed recently. The massive oak door groaned, rusty hinges protesting all the while, rumbling upon its movement and instilling an unmistakable sensation of dread within the three boys, leaving them to scramble for a desperate bail.

  Unknowingly, their sporadic response had only served to worsen the situation.

  The two boys made a wild but covert dash towards the deeper area of the abandoned library. Frenzied, they instinctively ignored their goal, leaving Vasil to fend for himself, seemingly forgetting the pile of tomes he aguishly carried in his puny arms.

  Soon, the sound of the volumes dropping one by one would drown out any creaks the door could have produced, exacerbating the unsettling tension that had been assumed within this enormous and oppressive space.

  Becoming disoriented and falling on his tail, a slight grunt escaped from Vasil’s lips moments before his face became devoid of all colour, his lips dry and his breath accelerated. He stumbled to cover himself after briefly looking at the source of the previous commotion.

  Like the others, he attempted to make a desperate sprint towards cover, but not even a few paces in, he staggered on his feet, slipping and harshly landing face forward. Even in this state of terror, and maybe by instinct, he couldn’t stop himself from reflecting on what had halted his walk, only to be met with something unordinary inexplicable.

  He sluggishly blinked twice, thinking his eyes might have expired, but what he was seeing was the same world he had been wandering in.

  It was a book, similar to the ones he held before, yet they couldn’t compare in terms of appearance. Its design was simple yet persuasive, yearning for it to be opened. On the cover of the tome laid a sun-like symbol that was cloaked in white, and in front of it stood its title.

  Vasil slipped into a short trance; something about that book seemed odd, and on closer scrutiny, that assertion turned out to be accurate.

  He felt confident in the fact that he never learnt how to read or write in any language, yet for some odd reason, the tome that had piqued his interest was perfectly intelligible. But that wasn’t the strangest part; the reason he stopped before reading it was much more bizarre.

  ?????? ????

  ???0\-?/??

  ???? ??????

  “The letters… They are shifting?” He whispered to himself, unable to comprehend what was happening right before his eyes. His mouth remained agape after his realisation, sweat trickled down his cheek and his eyes became dilated.

  ~Tap-Tap-TAP~

  His drowsy condition would only be broken by the sound of footsteps, once again, entering his previous state of panic.

  He surveyed the room back and forth, trying to deduce a plan of action, anywhere he could hide, but his mind was too preoccupied. Wishing to not lose sight of this unusual relic he had found, he swiftly grabbed the tome from the floor and like before, sprinted.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  However, making this split second decision resulted in a minor mishap. As he continued to move quickly and quietly, he came across an aperture between the shelves, where he stood; the silhouette of the man who had invited himself within the chambers of the ancient bibliotheca.

  Vasil could simply stare, unable to even flinch, eyes wide open. The consequences of his actions were in his sight and all he could do was wait to receive them.

  He waited, for a mere few seconds he waited, seconds that felt like minutes. His brain had gone numb and his muscles stiff, finally he had closed his eyes, the only thoughts running through his head were that of his demise. Oddly, in this moment, he still hadn’t let go of the book he had been holding in his right arm, as it turned into a source of comfort in the crucial moment.

  And then, predictably and violently, he was caught by the hand, ready to be returned to the main encampment, met face to face with an instructor and whipped into shape. Or perhaps an even worse fate awaited him, like that of Thomas.

  Vasil opened his eyes to confront the person who discovered his presence, only to be met by the shroud of darkness again. He attempted to shift about, but his efforts were worthless; the sensation of being gripped firmly made him comprehend his situation. His small frame hadn’t aided him much either.

  He opened his mouth, but it quickly had been shut by the palm of the person who held him down.

  His heartbeat stayed fast, but he understood that he had most likely not been detected yet, so his struggles faded as he leaned on the one who kept him silent.

  With his senses heightened, he kept his ears open and listened. The footsteps of the invader neared briefly before fading back into obscurity, accompanied by the sound of the door creaking shut once again.

  The tension remained at a halt for a few seconds before being broken by the gasp for air performed from the person near him, at the same time releasing him from his clutches; Vasil seemingly recreated the action, exhausted from his anxieties.

  He turned around to greet the person who had rescued him, only to be met with a familiar face.

  “Phillip.. Thanks.” He said in a short and awkward manner, struggling to catch his breath.

  Phillip raises his head to meet Vasil's gaze, his visage carrying a sense of scorn and contempt, his furrowed blond and thin eyebrows standing out from the rest of the features. As he aggressively opened his mouth, Vasil knew the next words he would hear would not be pleasant.

  “Are you stupid?!” Phillip hissed, his voice a harsh whisper as he stepped closer. “If you’d stood there for a second more, we’d find you hanging the next day.”

  Vasil’s grip tightened on the book in his hands. He backed away slightly, lowering his head. In a meek voice, he stammered, "I-I didn’t mean to… I just—" His sentence trailed off, his voice fading and his face turned pale.

  Phillip sighed heavily, his frustration giving way to something softer. “You’re lucky his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet,” he said, his tone subdued. “And stupid for not realizing it.” His tone gradually subdued as he spoke, his face muscles relaxed and his breathing regulated.

  A moment of quiet pursued soon after, with the air getting increasingly stale with each passing second. The two got time to think and examine their surroundings, Vasil however, still shaken, stared at the floor. Phillip, on the other hand, was able to view his surroundings more acutely. His eyes landing on the book, a welcome distraction from the tension.

  He hesitated slightly, giving the insecure adolescent one more look before enquiring in a gentle tone, “So... you found a book for us to read?”

  Seemingly oblivious to the moment, he raised his head to respond to Phillip, his drama becoming short-lived in order to satisfy his insatiable curiosity. “Yes. I had stumbled upon this earlier…” he exclaimed in a light but slightly enthusiastic tone, as his eyes lit up with the notion of his find.

  As he hoisted his acquired book, he spoke of its weird properties, but Phillip remained unamused, if not a bit confused.

  “This.. This is just a normal book?” He said in a neutral voice that carried a hint of curiosity. “However, it’s not written in Bamivor…” he added.

  Vasil gave Phillip a vacant stare, prolonging his response by five seconds as he began rapidly giving stares at the tome’s cover and back at Phillip; in his eyes, the letters had been constantly rearranging themselves this whole while and yet Phillip hadn’t raised an issue.

  He proceeded to sheepishly ask, “Are you sure? I see it like I told you.”

  Phillip could only raise an eyebrow at the boy's question before quickly rejecting it with a head nod. However, he had not finished his remark as he vaguely added, “It is strange though, I hadn’t seen text like this anywhere.” As he spoke, he gave the unusual book’s cover one more perusal before sighing in despair.

  Vasil’s visage betrays bewilderment as he makes a simple response to Phillip's previous statement. “But why can I read this mess?” He asked inquisitively and slightly bothered at this conundrum.

  Phillip’s eyes widen and his face slightly falls closer on the tome and Vasil as he pauses in his conversation to contemplate.

  “Creepy...” came a sudden remark.

  “Yes… Indeed, ver-”

  Both boys froze.

  Phillip’s talk interrupts itself as he becomes aware of the tall boy’s existence, the one that had been lurking in the veil of shadows. “****, WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!” His obscenities grew so wild that he couldn't remember what he had uttered at that very moment.

  Vasil gave a small wave, seemingly unbothered by the new arrival. As Kajin stepped into the dim light. “From the ceiling,” He spoke joyfully and grinned, meanwhile pointing skyward.

  Phillip stared at him, dumbfounded, and Kajin returned the gaze. The two remained at a standstill, until Phillip’s groan shattered the silence. Trying to calm himself, he stroked his brow and ignored Kajin's comment, focussing on the more pressing matter, “You hid on the roof of this room, did you see who opened the door?” He inquired semi-analytically.

  Kajin paused for a moment, and it weren’t too soon before his countenance was covered in perspiration as he recalled the face of the one, besides them, who had invaded this sacred place.

  “Yeah… It was Ashon…” His shaky voice barely made his words audible in an attempt to conceal the truth, but this just fuelled Vasil's and Phillip’s curiosity. At the same time however, distancing themselves from Kajin; a sense of primitive terror conquering over them.

  Phillip gently raises his neutral voice and asks, “Who?” confidently. Kajin takes a big breath and almost says the man's name, but he is abruptly halted as a hand covers his lips, taking him by surprise. Phillip's visage, which is becoming whiter and paler, contrasts sharply with the haughty look he had moments before.

  “If my guess is correct, better not to speak his name..” Phillip said as he carefully pulled his palm from Kajin's mouth.

  Vasil raises an eyebrow and opens his lips, enquiring in a questioning tone with a hint of judgement, “Who was it and why not say it..?” Kajin and Phillip turned towards him, and almost immediately said, "It's a bad omen."

  “Oh” Vasil remarked, as he nodded in understanding, letting go of the book he held.

  They all shared a deep sigh, letting go of their anxieties as Phillip made a remark, “Thank Fortuna that HE didn’t find us…” followed by a brief break, with the tension in the air gradually fading as the interval proceeded.

  Kajin looked around one final time, confirming that nothing would break their flow, and then proceeded to ask, “So! Has anyone discovered any books?” His louder than normal voice snapped the attention of the other two boys, creating a brief but confident posture, albeit fleeting.

  Vasil shook his head, although he remained a bit perplexed, his visage looking distorted despite his confidence that he hadn’t found any. Phillip shared the same sentiment short of the confusion.

  Despite the sorry-state they found themselves in, Kajin couldn’t help but smile, and proclaimed, “That’s good.” He paused and then said, “Because I found a nice one!” Kajin remarked in an ecstatic tone, pulling something jammed between his back and his muddy braies and quickly exhibiting it to Phillip.

  Phillip’s eyes narrowed, his nose wrinkled and his upper lip curled; he took a step back, recoiling from the sight he had just witnessed, before he asked in a queasy voice, “Do I have to read this now?”

  Vasil couldn't help but share Kajin's joy; being able to read a novel for the first time in his life was something he had never imagined possible. Still, something at the back of his mind caused a sense of unease, albeit it very slight, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

  But it remained such an insignificant sensation that he instantly dropped all concerns about it, and awaited with enthusiasm as Phillip reluctantly removed the book from Kajin's hands with his thumb and pointer finger, practically pinching it.

  He hurriedly lay it down and softly and slowly sounded the name of its cover, “Chronicles of the Old: The War of the Eternal Night”

  Chapter 10: Fear the Pale Sun