The library's lower levels was dim and less lightened. Ethan followed Maya down stone steps that most students never noticed. Hidden behind a bookshelf about agricultural reports, the entrance was easy to miss.
"Are you sure about this?" Maya whispered.
"No," Ethan said. "But we need answers."
Their footsteps echoed in the narrow stairwell. The walls were older here. Different stone. Like this part of the Academy had been built centuries before the rest.
The passage opened into a chamber.
Shelves stretched up into darkness. Books lined every surface - some bound in leather, others wrapped in cloth, a few carved into stone tablets. Dust danced in the light from their borrowed lantern.
"How is this possible?" Maya breathed.
Ethan moved toward the nearest shelf. The books here weren't like the ones upstairs. These were ancient and personal. Written by hands that had been dust for generations.
He pulled one at random. The leather binding cracked when he opened it. Inside, cramped handwriting filled pages yellowed with age.
"The Kingmaker Blade chose me when I was seventeen. By twenty, it had aged me thirty years. By twenty-five, I was almost at the doors of death."
His blood went cold.
"Ethan." Maya's voice was tight. "Look at this."
She stood before a section dedicated to a single topic. Divine Weapons. Dozens of books, journals, even what looked like dried flowers pressed between glass. Each shelf marked with a different name.
Worldshaker Gauntlet, Sovereign's Shield, Skysunder Bow and there, Kingmaker Blade.
Ethan's hands shook as he reached for the nearest journal. The author's name was scratched out, but the content was clear enough.
"The Blade offers power beyond measure. But everything has a price. Each time you draw on its strength, it takes a piece of your life. I thought I was strong enough to bear the cost."
The next page showed a crude drawing. A sword that looked exactly like the one that had seen somewhere but couldn't remember.
"I see things that haven't happened yet. Know outcomes before they unfold. But with each vision, I grow older. My hair grays. My bones ache. The Blade is killing me slowly."
"Ethan?" Maya touched his arm. "What is it?"
He couldn't answer.
Maya had moved to another section. Saint's Staff. Her golden eyes were wide as she read.
"This doesn't make sense," she said. "Listen to this,
'The Saint's Staff chose Lyanna Thornfield in YA 147. Shadow magic was her gift, but the staff transformed it into something else. Light born from darkness. Hope from despair.'
"Thornfield," Ethan repeated.
"My ancestor. But shadow magic runs in families. If she could use the staff..." Maya's voice trailed off.
Footsteps echoed from above.
They both froze. The sound was faint but growing closer. Multiple people moving carefully, trying not to be heard.
"Someone's coming," Maya whispered.
Ethan grabbed the journal about the Kingmaker Blade. Shoved it into his jacket. Maya did the same with a book about the Saint's Staff.
The footsteps were louder now. Voices carried down the stairwell - low, urgent, speaking words Ethan couldn't make out.
"This way," he hissed.
They moved deeper into the chamber. Shelves created natural hiding spots. Ethan pulled Maya behind a section about ancient binding rituals. The books here were massive, bound in what looked like scales.
Light flickered at the chamber entrance. Hooded figures descended the stairs. Four of them, moving in silence. Their faces were hidden, but something about the way they moved set Ethan's teeth on edge.
"The texts are here," one said. His voice was cultured, educated. "Just as the Master said they would be."
"How long do we have?" another asked.
"Not long. The boy is getting suspicious. Soon he'll start asking questions we can't answer."
Ethan's blood turned to ice. Were they talking about him?
The figures spread out through the chamber. One moved toward the Divine Weapons section. Another headed for shelves marked 'Temporal Studies.'
"Find anything about the anomalies," the first voice said. "The Master wants to know how they're affecting the timeline."
Maya's hand found Ethan's. Her fingers were cold, shaking. In the dim light, her eyes were huge with fear.
The hooded figures worked quickly. They pulled books from shelves, flipped through pages, made notes on parchment. Everything was done efficiently.
"This one," a woman's voice said. "It mentions travelers displaced in time. Souls sent backward to prevent catastrophe."
Ethan's heart hammered against his ribs. They were talking about him. About what he was.
"The Master will be pleased," the first voice said. "Pack everything we need. Leave no trace."
They worked for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. Ethan counted every second, fighting the urge to breathe too loud or shift position.
Finally, the figures gathered near the entrance.
"The boy is dangerous," one said. "If he remembers too much..."
"That's not our concern. We follow orders. Nothing more."
Their voices faded as they climbed the stairs. Ethan waited until he couldn't hear footsteps before moving.
"Who were they?" Maya whispered.
"I don't know," Ethan lied. "But they knew about this place. About the books."
They climbed toward the library proper. Ethan's jacket felt heavy with the stolen journal. Each page might hold answers about the weapon he thinks he remembers.
The main library was empty. Late evening, most students were at dinner or in their rooms. They slipped through the stacks like ghosts.
"Ethan," Maya said as they reached the exit. "Those people. They were talking about someone called the Master."
"I heard."
"And they mentioned anomalies. Magical anomalies." Her eyes searched his face. "Just like Lydia talked about."
Too many connections with too many people asking the right questions.
"I don't know what it means," Ethan said.
Another lie. But how could he tell her the truth? That he was the anomaly they were studying? That powerful people wanted to understand what he was?
Back in his room, Kaleb was not there but he had to wait for him to come back and fall asleep. Ethan waited until his roommate got back and his breathing was steady before pulling out the journal.
The pages were filled with warnings. Previous wielders of the Kingmaker Blade, all telling the same story. Power beyond measure. Knowledge of future events. And a price that grew steeper with each use.
One passage made his stomach turn:
"I tried to save everyone. Used the Blade's gift to prevent disasters, change outcomes, protect the innocent. But each intervention aged me months. By the end, I was an old man at twenty-three. My body giving out before I could finish what I'd started."
Ethan closed the journal.
Somewhere in those halls, hooded figures moved in darkness. Someone called the Master wanted to understand temporal anomalies. And Lydia Hayes knew more than she was saying.
The game was getting more complex. More dangerous.
And Ethan was running out of moves that didn't cost him years of his life.
He thought about Maya. About Kaleb. About all the people he was trying to save. The journal said every previous wielder had failed. Died young. Left their missions unfinished.
But they didn't know what I know. They didn't see the end coming.
The Kingmaker Blade had chosen him for a reason. Given him this chance for a purpose.
He just hoped he'd live long enough to fulfill it.
Ethan closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
Somewhere in the shadows, the Master's people were watching and waiting to see what the anomaly would do next.