"TO THE LIBRARY!"
They shouted in glorious unison, voices echoing down the empty street as if announcing the most epic adventure of the century. Suzan even raised her arm as if wielding an invisible sword, marching like a proud knight with Lily following behind—less knight and more reluctant squire.
"Do we really have to yell every time we start something?" Lily asked, as few passing townsfolk stared. "You act like it's a bakery giving away free pie," Lily panted, trying to keep up chasing behind Suzan.
"I'd run faster for pie. This is research, obviously," Suzan replied with mock seriousness, turning her head just enough to flash a smug grin before nearly crashing into a lamppost. "Whoa—hey, who put that there?"
"It's been there since before you were born," Lily deadpanned. "Probably seen more intelligent conversations, too."
Suzan snorted. "Rude. Anyway, onwards! Our destiny awaits in paper and ink form!"
"You mean we're just gonna dig through dusty books hoping one of them yells, 'Hi, I'm the relic book!'"
"Well, not yell—that would be creepy. Whisper, maybe." which was even creepier.
"You're dragging me into another disaster, aren't you?"
Suzan winked. "It's called an adventure, Lily. Learn the vocabulary."
They reached the enormous stone building nestled between the clock tower and the old conservatory. The Grand Capital Library loomed like a sleeping beast, its arched doors flanked by carved lions who probably judged every visitor's IQ. A sign read, No shouting, no eating, and please do not climb the shelves. Suzan was already guilty of two on that list from past visits.
But just as she reached the top step, a sudden thump hammered against her heart.
Her heart gave one loud thump, like it skipped and kicked all at once. She stopped mid-step, eyes wide, her breath caught in her throat. A wave of heat swept over her, her body trembling slightly as she stumbled little.
"Suzan?" Lily caught her arm. "You okay?"
Suzan blinked, her vision swimming just a second too long. Sweat beaded on her brow despite the cool breeze. "I—uh. Yeah, yeah. Just... excited!" She forced a grin. "Knowledge does that sometimes. You know, brain adrenaline."
Lily narrowed her eyes."That's not a thing."
"It is now."
Suzan waved her off, stepping into the grand, arched entrance as though nothing had happened. "Let's hunt some relic knowledge!"
Despite Lily's suspicious glance, Suzan straightened her back and led the way inside.
Inside, the capital's largest library did not disappoint.
As they stepped through the doors, the noise of the outside world vanished like magic. A cool hush enveloped them—dust-muffled footsteps, wooden floors polished to a golden gleam. Endless rows of towering bookshelves taller than grown men stretched forever. The soft rustle of pages and murmurs of scholars filled the air, candles flickering beside them atop elegant chandeliers, though daylight streamed in through stained glass windows, painting the room with hues of blue and red.
It was huge. No matter how many times Suzan had been here (which, according to Lily, was debatable), it still took her breath away.
"Wow," Lily whispered.
"I know, right?" Suzan whispered back. "This place always amazes me whenever I visit."
"You've been here before?" Lily raised an eyebrow.
"Of course!" Suzan puffed up proudly.
"But I've never seen you read a book."
"I used to," Suzan said dramatically. "Back when I was someone boring."
They stood still for a moment, statues amidst the sea of scholars, overwhelmed by choice.
"So… where do we start?" Lily asked.
"Books about relics. Or time. Or relics about time!" Suzan spun in a slow circle. "Or possibly secret royal vaults, or glowing magical toast."
"I'm ignoring that last one." lily remarked.
Thirty minutes later, both of them were reading children's storybooks.
It had started with good intentions—serious research mode. But the history section had nearly knocked Suzan unconscious from boredom. After reading two and a half pages, she began flipping through the rest looking for pictures. None. Just endless text with fonts that looked like suffering.
"This book is actually screaming at me," Suzan said, tossing it down.
Now they were in the kids' section, flipping through colorful books filled with dragons, talking carrots, and magical socks.
Lily squinted at a thin book titled The Wand That Sneezed.
"We're a disgrace to all treasure hunters," she mumbled.
Suzan held up a book with a rainbow-colored raccoon. "But we're adorable treasure hunters."
They read. Then laughed. Then read more.
Suzan said holding a book up excited "I haven't read this before. I must've missed picture-book update day."
"You have update days for picture books?" Lily groaned.
"Mental refreshment is important for geniuses like me."
"This," Suzan declared, holding up a book with a knight riding a snail, "is crucial research."
"You're reading it upside down."
Suzan flipped it. "Still makes sense. That's how good the plot is."
Suzan even dramatized voices for the characters—giving the snail a heroic baritone. For a while, they forgot about the relic entirely.
But then Suzan sat up straight.
"These books are fun, but they can wait." She closed the last one with a snap. "Our relic comes first."
Her eyes, however, lingered on the cover.
"I'm under a spell, Lily! A spell of storytelling!" Suzan held her head dramatically. "Help me break free!"
Lily peeked over. "It's okay, Suzan. The books wont grow legs and run away."
"But what if they do?"
"Suzan…"
"Okay, okay. Serious face. Let's hunt some secrets."
"You're hopeless," Lily giggled.
With renewed resolve, they ventured deeper into the maze of knowledge. History section. Magic theory. Old folklore, Political Sciences (Suzan almost fainted). Nothing. Not even a dusty clue.
"Ugh," Suzan groaned, flipping through a volume. "These history books are my worst mortal enemy. They're like sleep potions bound in leather."
"You barely read half a page!" lily said trying to excite her "Come on, knowledge is power."
"It's also incredibly dusty."
"I swear if you sneeze on another manuscript…"
Suzan picked out a thick volume titled Time and Its Symbolism in Royal Architecture, flipped through two pages, and then started squinting at the spine for illustrations.
"Why is there nothing but text?" she groaned. "My eyes need visuals. I've read ransom notes with better spacing."
Lily buried her face in a book, probably pretending she didn't know her.
Defeated, they slumped back to their corner, surrounded by piles of unhelpful tomes.
"Let's admit it," Lily said. "We found nothing."
"We found suffering," Suzan added. "Which is something."
"Why don't we try the hidden treasures section," Suzan offered excited.
"There's no such section."
"There should be.
Then Suzan perked up.
"Kid section."
Lily stared. "What?"
"I know it sounds dumb, but those books with big letters and shiny pages have more soul than half this library."
Lily raised a brow. "They're meant for five-year-olds."
"Exactly. The purest source of truth."
With much arguing and mockery, they finally arrived at the corner dedicated to the kingdom's youngest minds. Shelves here were shorter, colors brighter, and books cheerfully demanded to be touched. Most mothers came to borrow books for their children or let them read while they ran errands. But today, it was empty—except for two very dedicated, very unserious "researchers."
Suzan pounced first."Ooooh! New releases!" she squealed."
"These are four pages long."
"They're compact literature."
They devoured books like popcorn, story—books with four pages, big fonts, and silly rhymes, until their pile rivaled the height of a toddler on stilts. Laughter echoed as they recited lines in terrible accents and reenacted scenes with sock puppets made from their sleeves.
"This one," Suzan gasped between giggles, "has a duck who thinks it's a lion. It's basically my autobiography."
Lily grinned, shaking her head. "We're supposed to be finding the relic, remember?"
"Oh right," Suzan said, still reading. "That thing."
Eventually, Lily grew serious.
"We haven't found anything. Maybe we stop for today, we're getting nowhere."
"Nooo," Suzan mumbled behind a book, eyes barely visible. "There's still time."
"We're just wasting hours chasing a rumor. And since when do you focus on one thing for so long?"
"I'm evolving."
"No, you're hiding something." Lily frowned and stood, yanking the book away.
Suzan's face had gone pale. Not just tired pale. But candle-wax pale. Too still.
"Hey…" Lily whispered. "Are you okay?"
Suzan forced a grin. "Yeah. Yeah. Just—uh—book overload. My brain's glitching."
She stood, swaying slightly, and gripped a shelf for support. Lily watched, worry deepening, but said nothing. If Suzan wanted to pretend she was okay, she'd let her—for now.
Inside, Suzan's heart was racing. Something was… knocking. Not physically, but deeper—like something sharp was trying to break in. Or out. And it hurt.
They returned to wandering but suzan wasn't acting normal.
Suzan's hands occasionally trembled when she thought Lily wasn't looking. A strange throb echoed in her chest, like something trying to burst free from within. Each breath felt heavier than the last.
Then something caught her eye.
At the edge of a dim corner, between two worn shelves, sat a book that shimmered faintly.
Faintly—but unmistakably.
She blinked. The glow remained.
"Lily…" Suzan whispered.
"What now? Another talking duck?"
"No." Suzan pointed. "Look."
Lily squinted. "Look at what?"
"That book. It's glowing."
Lily looked again. "I see… a dusty book?"
"No glow?"
"No glow."
Suzan didn't wait. She rushed over, fingers reaching for the spine.
"Wait!" Lily grabbed her arm. "What if it's dangerous? What if it's cursed? What if it—"
"It's something," Suzan cut in. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with urgency. "We finally found something."
But before she could pull the book, blood dripped from her nose.
Lily's eyes widened in horror. "Suzan—your nose!"
Suzan laughed weakly, wiping it with the back of her sleeve. "Guess the boring knowledge overloaded my brain. Classic me."
"This isn't funny!" Lily grabbed her shoulders. "You're not fine. Please. Let's go back. Call someone. Just don't—"
"No!" Suzan's voice cracked. "What if we lose this chance? What if the book vanishes and we're back to nothing? We're so close."
She turned to the shelf. "I'll do whatever you want after this. Just… let me do this."
Her fingers brushed the spine.
A soft click.
The wall behind the shelf shimmered and shifted, revealing a narrow passage. Air rushed out—cold and damp, like the breath of something ancient. A faint light glowed within, soft but unwelcoming.
Lily's voice trembled. "Suzan… this is too much. This is real. It's not a game anymore."
Suzan nodded, nose still bleeding, hand clutching the handkerchief Lily handed her.
"That's why we have to go. Who knows what we'll find?"
Lily reminded suzan "This is why I always tell you to carry a hanky. Comes in handy during mysterious bleeding events. You always say it's dead weight in your pocket."
"I need to stay light. Wind-speed, remember?"
Lily gave her a long look. "Promise me you'll see someone about… this. After."
Suzan raised her pinky. "Okie dokie. Promise."
Their hands found each other—warm, trembling, determined.
Together, they stepped toward the passage.
Toward whatever waited beyond.