Chapter 3:
The old wooden door creaked behind them as Elian, Lyra, and Merrin stepped out from the dusty backroom of Vale & Sons. Elian still clutched the wrapped book tightly, the warmth from its corrupted ink leaking faintly through the cloth. Despite the walk, the pulse hadn't slowed. It was like holding a heartbeat not his own.
"It's not safe to keep that here," Lyra said, fluttering by his shoulder, her glow dimmer than usual.
Merrin nodded. "I managed to delay the spread, but that's all I can do. That book needs someone who knows how to speak its language—and seal its sickness."
Elian glanced at her. "You mean a healer?"
"Not just that," Merrin said. Her expression turned strangely serious. "Your grandfather didn't just restore books, Elian. He was Inkbound. One of the registered few in our district. There's a place in this town, hidden under the library—a sanctuary for people like him. And now, like you."
His breath caught. The word still felt foreign—Inkbound.
"Wait. You mean there's... a guild? Under the library?"
Merrin gave a small smile. "Hidden in plain sight. It's the Guild Library. And it's where registered Inkbound go when a Codex becomes unstable. I usually only assist with minor repairs, but if a book's already infected like that—"
She pointed to the wrapped volume.
"—then only someone with proper training, and a registered healer, can try to cleanse it. That's why we're going. And don't worry. I'll vouch for you."
---
They moved through Vale town's central street, the midday sun casting long shadows. Merrin led them to a nondescript brick building with a worn sign: Vale Public Archive. Inside, it looked like any other small-town library—dusty aisles, oak desks, a reading nook.
But Merrin led them past the bookshelves to a wooden cabinet. She pulled out a slim book—Echoes of Silent Ink—and whispered a line from the first chapter.
The back wall rumbled.
Stone scraped against stone as a staircase revealed itself beneath the floorboards.
Elian blinked. "You've got to be kidding."
Lyra zipped beside him. "Your world just got bigger. Get used to it."
---
The descent was long, lit by glowing ink-lanterns embedded in the walls. Faint glyphs pulsed as they passed. The air turned cooler, heavier.
At the end of the path, an immense chamber opened before them. Vaulted ceilings arched high above, and walls were lined with Codices stored in locked sigil-cases. Runes hovered midair, and scholars murmured softly from tiered alcoves. A vast circular sigil was etched into the marble floor.
Elian stared, his breath catching. "This… this place is real."
"Welcome to the Guild Library," Merrin said.
They passed through the main atrium. Elian's eyes darted—he saw Inkbound reciters practicing lines while their fairies hovered nearby. Some were older, bearing robes of white or red. Others were young, not much older than him.
"This is where registered Inkbound operate," Merrin explained. "Study, healing, assignments. If you're recognized by a Codex, you must register with the academy eventually. But first… we need a healer."
A middle-aged woman approached them. Pale robes, calm gaze. Her name was Ysmeil, and her fairy Liora glowed faint gold. Behind her trailed another—a tall man in combat attire with a parchment-winged fairy and stern eyes.
"Merrin," he said. "Why bring an unregistered boy this deep?"
"Because he's not unregistered," Merrin replied firmly. "He's Elias Thorne's grandson. And the book he's carrying is unstable."
Ysmeil stepped forward, sensing the corrupted ink even before the cloth was lifted. Liora hovered and gasped.
"This tome… it's clinging. Fighting the infection. Bring it here. We need to act now."
Elian reluctantly handed it over, his fingers trembling.
The stern man stepped closer.
"Name?"
"Elian. Elian Thorne."
His eyes narrowed. "Then you are Inkbound. It runs in the bloodline. Come. You'll need to be recorded."
He walked to a pedestal and returned with a thick, leather-bound volume edged with silver clasps. The pages shimmered faintly, ink lines shifting like threads of living memory.
"This is the Registry Ledger," he said, placing it before Elian. "It records all registered Inkbound within this district. Name, class, Codex, and bond status. Every page is part of our sanctioned record—proof of your entry into our world."
Elian stared. Hundreds of names stretched across its pages in elegant script, some glowing, some faded with age. His hand hovered, hesitant.
One name had been circled.
Elias Thorne. Class: Combat Reciter. Codex: "Ashes of the Verdant War."
Elian's throat tightened. The name looked carved into history—bold, indelible.
"He was really part of all this…" he whispered.
Beside him, Lyra floated silently, her wings slowed, eyes locked on the page.
"You weren't just his grandson," the man continued. "You were meant to carry his ink."
Suddenly, Lyra flinched. Her wings sparked.
"Elian… something's happening. Another Codex just… responded to you."
Elian blinked. "What? Which one? I didn't touch—"
"I don't know," Lyra said softly. "But this shouldn't be possible. You're already bonded to—wait… no, that can't be."
He took a step back, breath catching. Around them, nothing had visibly changed.
And yet… deep within the Guild Library, somewhere behind sealed runes and locked vaults…
A Codex stirred.