Sarab's phone buzzed on her nightstand. She groaned, rubbed her eyes, and answered in a tired voice.
Sarab: "Hello, Nodra…"
Nodra (exploding with energy): "Girl, where the hell have you been? You've ghosted me for two whole days! Don't tell me you're still sulking over that Harry Potter movie?"
Sarab: "Why do you keep bringing it up? You know that stuff creeps me out."
Nodra: "Oh, come on! That was the best movie I've ever seen. I swear, I felt like a famous heroine, just running through the streets of London. Anyway—forget the movie."
(She paused for a beat, then her voice jumped with excitement again.)
Nodra: "Listen! Get ready. I found a library with that book I told you about. The one that's seriously not like anything else!"
Sarab: "Nodra, forget it. I told you a million times, I hate that stuff. Magic and curses? You think life is a drama."
Nodra: "I don't want anything except to check the place out! And I'm not going alone. They say this library has books on rare symbols and talismans you'll never find online."
Sarab: "It terrifies me. The moment I get a bad dream, I'm drained for weeks. Please, no."
Nodra (mock dramatic): "Oh, for God's sake! If my soul leaves my body by accident, would you rather I go alone? This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! I've never seen a library like this. Believe me—it's worth it!"
(Sarab was silent. She knew Nodra too well. If she didn't go, Nodra would head there alone, and trouble would follow.)
Sarab (sighing): "Fine. But if this is a prank, I'm going to be mad at you…"
(Deep down, she was secretly hoping it was a prank.)
They arrived at a narrow alley behind Al-Moez street, where the winding lanes breathed history and the doors whispered old stories. Before them stood a nameless shop: just a wooden door, its carvings worn thin by centuries.
Sarab (skeptical): "This is it? Looks more like a furniture shop than a library."
Nodra (pushing the door open): "Yep! This is the place they told me about. I hope the book is here."
(The heavy wooden door groaned as it swung open. Inside, dim light draped over shelves sagging under the weight of strange, ancient books. The air smelled of dust and paper—like a forgotten century trapped in a bottle.)
(Suddenly, an old man appeared. His face was like burnt parchment, his smile too steady, too sharp. He didn't walk—he seemed to glide silently through the aisles.)
The Man: "Welcome, curiosity… and welcome, fear."
Nodra (bubbling with excitement): *"Do you have the book of **?"
The Man: "Yes… but it is not seeking you today."
Nodra (laughing loudly): "What? The book decides now? Am I in a movie?"
(The man chuckled and faded back into the shelves. Nodra darted away eagerly, eyes flicking over spines and dust, hunting. Sarab stood still, her arms crossed, no real desire to be there. She scanned the shelves—nothing but old smells and silence.)
Then it came.
A whisper. Not heard with her ears, but in her mind—slipping in like a cold breeze through a cracked wall.
The Voice (whispering): "Eira…? Is that you?"
(Sarab froze, her heart hammering.)
Sarab (low, trembling): "Nodra… did you hear that?"
Nodra (popping her head up from between shelves, confused): "What?"
Sarab: "A voice. Someone's talking."
Nodra (grinning, sarcastic): "Oh my God, this place is really getting to you. Trying to scare me now?"
(She laughed, whispering dramatically.)
Nodra: "Didn't I tell you this place was haunted? That's all we needed."
(Sarab didn't laugh. Her eyes kept searching the space, like something was watching. Then she noticed a small box high on a shelf. Her chest tightened—something called to her. She pulled it down and opened it without thinking.)
Inside lay a small glass piece, shaped like a cloud. It pulsed faintly—breathing.
A chill ran through her as the lamp flickered. A wisp of black smoke uncurled from the object, slithering into her hand, threading into her veins, and vanishing.
Sarab: "Ah! Nodra!"
(She gasped and stumbled back. The library shook violently. Shelves rattled. Books cascaded down. The air warped, bending like a dream about to collapse. Her skin burned. She stared at her hand in horror as a tattoo etched itself—circles and cracks glowing faintly like fire in stone.)
Sarab (stammering, holding up her arm): "Look—the—"
(She blinked. Everything was normal. The shelves stood tall. The books were in place. The box lay on the floor, its glass cloud pale and solid. Her hand—bare.)
Nodra (rolling her eyes): "Seriously, Sarab? We came here for a book and got a horror movie instead."
(She patted her shoulder with mock pity.)
Nodra: "Congrats, you've been possessed."
(Sarab hit her playfully, but her eyes lingered on the box. No tattoo. No mark. As if nothing had ever happened.)
They left, Nodra grumbling.
Nodra: "Not even a single book. This place is a joke. Total scam."
(Sarab stayed silent. Something heavy clung to her mind. On the street, colors, sounds, and people seemed distant, as if reality itself was fraying. She whispered to herself.)
Sarab: "I… I don't know…"
That night, Sarab lay on her bed, staring at her hand. Nothing marked her skin. Yet she felt it—something alive beneath.
When she closed her eyes, the whisper returned:
"A new chapter has begun…"
Darkness swallowed her. And somewhere else, another pair of eyes opened—watching, waiting.
She woke to the scent of smoke and herbs. The sky above her burned a hazy orange, endless, like an eternal sunset. Her clothes were different: a silk cloak, embroidered with symbols. And on her arm, the tattoo glowed faintly like an ember.
A woman approached, draped in a wide cloak with a blue stone on her forehead. Her words were foreign, yet Sarab understood them as if whispered directly into her mind.
The Woman: "You have returned, bearer of the gleam. We did not expect your new body to be… so fragile."
Sarab: "Who are you? Where is this? Am I… dreaming?"
(The woman laughed—a sound without mockery, without joy.)
The Woman: "There are no more dreams. All who bear the cloud are summoned."
(Sarab felt the dirt under her feet. The wind against her hair. It was real. Too real.)
Suddenly, visions struck her: seven symbols, a circle of stone, a woman screaming in flames, a shadow swallowing faces.
She collapsed. The woman's whisper echoed:
"It is still early. The cloud has not fully awakened."
Sarab woke in her bed, gasping. The alarm buzzed. Her hand was bare, her room ordinary, but nothing felt the same.
She whispered: "What happened…?"
Her reflection in the mirror looked back at her. But her eyes—they weren't hers anymore.
And when she turned off the light, the darkness rushed in, as if it had been waiting for her for a thousand years.
hey everyone! I'm a new writer, and this is my first novel.I'd love to hear any feedback you have, and I really hope you enjoy the story so we can go on this journey together.I'm still learning English, so if you notice some odd expressions, please let me know.Enjoy the ride!