Chapter Three: Map of Shadows
As the sun rose, the first rays of light penetrated the high window of the abandoned room, illuminating dust particles that danced in the air like tiny stars. Lewis woke up feeling stiffness in his neck and pain in his back from sleeping on the table. He looked around, trying to recall the terrifying events of the previous night, and whispered hoarsely: "It wasn't a dream... I really heard them talking about the manuscript."
The first thing he did was ensure the manuscript was safely hidden. He examined the gap in the books where he had concealed it, his heart still pounding as he remembered the whispers outside. He moved some old books to better cover the spot, making sure no one would notice anything.
In the following days, Lewis returned to his usual routine but with more watchful eyes and a more cautious heart. During the day, he performed his library duties with usual diligence, but he began observing every movement around him. He arranged new books arriving from the capital with great care, helped villagers read their letters with renewed focus, and organized the church's weekly activities with feigned enthusiasm.
Daily village life continued as usual: the sound of the blacksmith's hammer in the early morning, the smell of fresh bread from the only bakery, children's laughter as they played in the central square. But Lewis now saw beyond this peaceful surface. He noticed the exchanged glances among village elders during weekly meetings, and listened to their faint whispers that suddenly stopped when he approached.
Lewis's few friends represented a different world to him. Thomas, the tailor's son, visited the library occasionally, bringing with him village news and tales of adventures he read about. Sister Clara, the young nun, shared his interest in herbs and natural remedies, often asking him to research rare information in old books. As for Old Man Elias, the wise elder, he sat on his stone seat like a guardian of collective memory, knowing all the village stories and history.
Church activities represented the framework governing everyone's life: daily prayers, religion lessons, helping the poor, receiving travelers. But Lewis began noticing gaps between official teachings and the stories whispered in secret.
After two weeks of caution and observation, Lewis began feeling slightly more secure. One day, while organizing the geography section, he noticed something interesting. On a low shelf, hidden among boring maps, he found a collection of ancient manuscripts about Eldarwin's history. One of them bore the title "The Founding of Eldarwin and Its Early History." As he browsed the faded pages, he noticed a familiar drawing: the circle inside the triangle, the same symbol he had seen in the mysterious manuscript.
His heart raced as he read about the village's founding three centuries ago. The first settlers came from the north, carrying "ancient teachings" different from the current church's religion. The writing was deliberately ambiguous but referred to "forces older than memory" and "secrets guarded by silence."
In the evening, while helping Father Christoph close the library, Lewis tried to ask with pretended innocence: "Father, do you know anything about the founding families? I was reading about Eldarwin's history today."
Father Christoph stopped organizing papers and looked at Lewis strangely. "The past is the past, my son. What matters is our present and our faith." But Lewis noticed how the priest's hands became tense and how he tried to hide some papers he was examining.
Several days later, Lewis decided to visit Old Man Elias. Sitting with the elder gave him an opportunity to hear stories about the past without raising suspicions. He sat on the stone seat beside him and listened to tales of youth days and the changes the village had witnessed.
"There were troubled times," whispered the old man, "and days when our traditions were different." Then he suddenly stopped, as if he had said too much. When Lewis asked him about the "ancient forces" mentioned in the manuscript, the old man shook his head: "Just old folks' superstitions, my boy. Forget it."
But Elias's eyes said something different from his words. There was real fear in his gaze, and the experience of many years that knew what shouldn't be said.
The following night, while Lewis was in his small room, he heard Father Christoph and the strange man's voices again in the hallway. "We must find it before others discover it," said the strange voice. "Patience, brother. The truth will reveal itself in due time," answered Father Christoph.
But this time, they weren't standing outside the abandoned room's door but were heading toward the church's secret archives. Lewis followed them from afar, sneaking like a shadow through dark corridors. He watched them enter a small room behind the main altar, a room he hadn't known existed.
Lewis realized time was passing and that he needed to act soon. But he decided to be more cautious. He began visiting the forest edges during the day, during break times, pretending to collect herbs for Sister Clara. He studied the terrain and tried to match it with the drawing in the manuscript, attentive to any signs or signals.
During one of these excursions, while standing at the forest edge, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find his friend Thomas standing there. "What are you doing here, Lewis? You don't usually come to the forest." Lewis hesitated for a moment, then answered: "I'm trying to find some herbs for Sister Clara. She says she needs them for her treatments."
Thomas looked at him with slight suspicion, then said: "Be careful, Lewis. The forest isn't a safe place, especially as night approaches. My father says there are... strange things that happen here sometimes." Then he walked away, leaving Lewis with conflicting thoughts.
Lewis knew he had to be more careful. The village was small, and everyone knew each other. Any unusual behavior would be noticed by others. He decided to wait, to continue his study, gather information, and plan carefully. The truth had been waiting for centuries, and he was prepared to wait for the right time to reveal it.
But inside him, curiosity burned like an unquenchable fire. Every day he discovered new clues: hidden drawings on old building walls, symbols carved on church benches, signs in history books. The mystery grew before his eyes, and he felt he was getting closer to the truth than ever before.
And at night, he dreamed of the forest and the hidden cave, and of the ancient eyes watching him from between the lines of the manuscript. He knew his journey hadn't begun yet, but preparing for it was worth all this waiting.