"All knowledge has a pulse."
The grand spires of the Kingdom Library loomed above, their gothic tips scratching the pale morning sky like quills against parchment. The air was crisp, faintly scented with petrichor and the ghost of old paper. Aiyana stood at the foot of the staircase, staring up at the towering marvel before her.
The doors were massive—ancient slabs of dark oak veined with silvery streaks, like roots of time itself. The handles glinted faintly, shaped like serpents biting their own tails. These doors had seen kingdoms rise and fall, and now, they faced her.
She folded her umbrella and spotted a rack of them off to the side—neatly arranged, as if by unseen hands. Two umbrellas were already resting there. She hesitated, then quietly added hers to the collection.
Alright… Let's do this.
She stepped forward and reached for the handle—
Then froze.
A sharp memory struck like a slap.
That cursed door at the Adventurer's Guild.
Her fall.
The bruised pride.
The glow-eyed witch-hatted menace.
Aiyana grimaced.
"It won't happen again," she muttered.
She squared her shoulders, lifted her hand—
And just as her fingers were about to touch the handle—
CREEEEAAAK.
The door opened on its own.
SLAM!
It swung out suddenly—smacking her full in the hip and sending her sprawling to the polished stone floor. Her briefcase bounced beside her, along with the last shreds of her dignity.
"UGHHH! Not again!" she groaned, curling up. "Why does this keep happening to me?!"
She blinked up in pain, bracing herself for the sight of him again—tall, cloaked, glowing eyes, the walking storm cloud of smug—
But instead—
"Ah! I—I'm so sorry! Did I hit you?! I swear I didn't mean to—Miss, are you alright?"
A gentle voice. Feminine. Soft as a porcelain cup cracking.
A flurry of motion hovered above her.
Aiyana blinked through the ache to meet the olive-green eyes of a young woman crouching beside her, cheeks flushed in panic. Long brown hair curled past her shoulders in soft waves, and several aged tomes were clutched in her arms—one dangerously close to tumbling.
Ink smudged her ivory gloves.
"I didn't see you! I thought no one would be here this early—oh stars, I didn't break anything, did I?"
"I-It's fine, Miss…" Aiyana winced, reaching for her briefcase.
The woman offered a hand. Aiyana hesitated, then took it—gently lifted back to her feet.
"Thank you."
With a graceful bow, the young woman said, "I am Virelle Solhart, Librarian of the Kingdom Library. Welcome, Miss."
She opened the door fully with a small smile, and gestured inward.
"This way."
Aiyana stepped through the threshold—
And stopped.
It was divine.
The Kingdom Library stretched like a cathedral of wonder. Vaulted ceilings shimmered in a dreamlike twilight, their highest points swallowed by celestial gloom. Floating at the center was a vast orrery—glowing rings and planets spinning slowly, pulsing with breath-like rhythm.
Towering bookshelves spiraled upward into infinity, carved from dark wood and etched with golden runes that shifted when she blinked. Books floated gently through the air, drifting from shelf to shelf like quiet birds. The air shimmered with memory and enchantment.
Sunlight spilled through massive stained-glass windows, painting the marble floor in kaleidoscopic hues. The windows depicted gods, constellations, and forgotten empires. Dust motes floated in the beams, golden and slow.
Brass staircases curled into the air like thoughts made real, leading to floating alcoves aglow with magic. Chandeliers of fossilized dragonbone and crystal hung above, flickering with pale firelight.
And through it all—
There was a hush.
Aiyana could hear her own breath—and something else. A distant whispering.
Not voices.
Not words.
Just the sound of knowledge…
breathing.
She straightened instinctively.
This wasn't just a library.
It was a living sanctum.
"You're quite early," Virelle said. "Or… is this your first time visiting?"
"Yes," Aiyana murmured, still staring in awe. "I need to learn something."
"Then you've come to the right place."
Aiyana turned. "Are you the only one here, Miss Virelle?"
"Oh, well, not exactly—"
"WELCOOOOOOMMMMEEE!!"
A voice boomed from the far end of the library.
Footsteps thundered between the shelves.
A blur of robes sprinted toward them at full speed.
A man skidded into view—nearly colliding with a floating book.
He came to a breathless stop, bent over with his hand raised.
"Just… one second…"
Aiyana covered her mouth, nearly laughing.
He straightened dramatically, threw glitter into the air (from who-knows-where), and struck a theatrical pose.
"Greetings, unwelcomed guest from afar! I sensed your arrival across the ley lines of destiny!"
He bowed so deeply he nearly toppled over.
"I am the great Arch-Librarian! Guardian of Knowledge! Strongest Mage of History! Master of the Forbidden Index! Your guide through endless tomes!"
Another flourish.
A spin.
A finger to the heavens.
A wink.
"I am… Elvan Drosk! The Destroyer!"
Aiyana blinked.
Then laughed softly. "Thank you… kind Arch-Librarian."
SMACK!
Virelle's hand met the back of his head.
"OW! Virelle!"
"Behave," she said flatly. "You're going to scare her."
"Impossible!" Elvan sniffed, dramatically. "My charm is universal."
Virelle turned to Aiyana. "This is Elvan Drosk, our Arch-Librarian. He's… harmless. Mostly."
"I'm extremely harmful if provoked. Especially by overdue books," Elvan added, folding his arms.
Aiyana smiled. This place was strange… but comforting. Warm. Alive.
"Now then," Virelle said, brushing her skirt. "What are you looking for, Miss? State what you seek, and we will help you find it."
"YESSS! IT IS I—THE GREAT ARC LIBRARIAN WHO SHALL AID YO—"
SMACK!
Another swat from Virelle.
"Ignore him."
"But first, may we know your name, Miss?" she asked gently.
Aiyana blinked. Right. They introduced themselves already…
"I'm Aiyana Berasuko. An adventurer."
"It's lovely to meet you, Miss Aiyana," Virelle said kindly.
"What a wonderful name for a lady," Elvan chimed, guarding his head in case of another smack.
Virelle simply gave him a long look.
Aiyana muttered under her breath, "Their duo is… oddly nice."
Virelle smiled. "Well?"
Aiyana nodded, then took a breath.
"I want to know… or learn about the history of this Kingdom, Miss Virelle," Aiyana said, her voice quiet but certain. "And… the history of Pathways, too."
Virelle's eyes brightened, but before she could respond—
"HAHA! You have come to the right place at the right time, my dear lady!"
Elvan's voice boomed again.
Virelle buried her face. "Stars above…"
Elvan stood atop a book platform, lit by colored light from a stained-glass window.
"A seeker of truth! A pilgrim of knowledge! A woman of taste! Truly, my favorite kind of guest!"
He flipped an imaginary cape and declared:
"Pathways… once, they didn't exist."
He lowered his voice.
"They were never meant for mortals. Fragile. Ephemeral. Forgotten by the stars."
"Humans were powerless then. Beneath kings. Gods. Beasts. The heavens spun uncaring."
"But then something changed."
Aiyana leaned in, drawn to every word.
"The echoes of Divinities," he whispered, "bled through veils. Through cracks in fate. No one knows how or why."
"And so—Pathways were not given. They were found. Chosen. Claimed."
"They are not gifts… they are mirrors. They show us what we can do—because they show us who we are."
Virelle peeked from behind her hand. "He is… right. In his own theatrical way."
"See?" Elvan grinned. "Even the quiet ones know a star when they see one."
Then, with rare sincerity, he added:
"But be warned, Miss Aiyana… some truths cannot be unread."
Aiyana swallowed, her pulse quickening.
SMACK.
"Stop scaring the guests."
"OW! I was being serious!"
"You made her nervous."
"I was being deep!"
Aiyana smiled.
"Thank you… both of you. I think I'm ready to begin."
Virelle clapped her hands.
Shelves shifted.
Gears hummed behind the walls.
Bookshelves slid along tracks as if carried by invisible currents of thought.
"This way," she said. "To what you seek."
They walked—books moving like stars around them—until a path unfolded through the maze.
Virelle turned and gestured to a quiet corner where ancient tomes waited.
"Here lies what you seek, Miss Aiyana. Make yourself at home. If you need us, we are never far."
She bowed. Elvan did too—with an exaggerated flourish.
Aiyana bowed in return.
Virelle clapped once more. The shelves shifted, leaving Aiyana in quiet solitude.
She wandered through the forgotten corners.
Books on ancient wars.
Kingdoms long erased.
Names that didn't exist anymore.
She walked, and read, and searched.
Then—
BONG.
A bell rang deep in her skull. Sharp and sudden.
A sharp flash.
A veiled smile.
A pale face.
Watching.
Grinning.
Aiyana winced—but didn't scream.
She was used to it now.
Her fingers brushed a dusty book, tucked beside others.
She pulled it free.
On the spine, in faded ink:
"The Beginning."
She blew away the dust.
The title etched in black:
Thalos the Void-
Chapter 8 has Ended