The library was vast, its arched ceiling resembling the skeletal ribs of a mythical beast. Dim light filtered through narrow stained-glass windows, casting colorful shadows on the floor. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, and the faint scent of old parchment mingled with the sharp tang of ink. Raven had never seen so many books in one place, yet the silence was oppressive.
"Why is it always libraries?" she muttered under her breath, her voice swallowed by the cavernous space.
Corvus perched on a nearby banister, his red eyes glinting in the gloom. "Knowledge is power, young warden. A lesson you would do well to remember."
Raven rolled her eyes and adjusted the satchel slung over her shoulder. The spellbook Kael had given her felt heavier than its size should allow, its spine creaking with age. "If this is another lesson in self-discovery, save it. I'm not in the mood."
The raven cawed in what might have been a laugh. "Patience is not your virtue, I see."
"Never claimed it was," she shot back, striding toward the central aisle. Her boots echoed against the stone floor. "Why are we here, anyway? This place feels…off."
Corvus flew ahead, his wings barely making a sound. "Kael mentioned that your mark's origins might be tied to something ancient. If so, the library holds records no other place dares to keep."
Raven frowned, her fingers brushing against the mark on her forearm. It had begun to itch again, a faint pulse beneath her skin. "Ancient and dangerous, I'm guessing?"
"Always."
She sighed, stopping at a towering shelf marked with strange runes. The symbols seemed to shift as she looked at them, making her head spin. "Wonderful. Any clue where to start?"
Corvus landed on a nearby table, preening his feathers. "Look for the name 'Umbra Vitae.' It translates to 'The Shadow of Life.' You'll know it when you see it."
Raven scanned the spines of the books, her frustration growing. Most of the titles were unreadable, written in scripts she couldn't decipher. "Umbra Vitae, huh? Sounds like a cheery bedtime story."
As she reached for a particularly worn volume, a faint whisper tickled her ear. She froze, her hand hovering over the book.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered.
Corvus tilted his head. "Hear what?"
Another whisper, clearer this time. The words were unintelligible, but they sent a shiver down her spine. Raven turned, her eyes narrowing as she searched the shadows.
"Someone's here," she said, her voice low.
Corvus hopped closer. "The library is enchanted. It tends to…test its visitors. Stay focused."
"Great," Raven muttered. "A haunted library. Just what I needed."
She resumed her search, her movements quicker now. The whispers grew louder, overlapping into a cacophony of voices. They seemed to come from every direction, yet nowhere at all.
"Raven…" one voice hissed, low and drawn out.
Her breath caught. She spun around, her fists clenched. "Okay, show yourself! I'm not playing games!"
The voices fell silent. The library seemed to hold its breath.
Then, a figure stepped out from the shadows. It was a boy, no older than sixteen, with pale skin and dark hair that fell into his eyes. He wore a tattered cloak, and his expression was one of fear and desperation.
"Help me," he whispered, his voice trembling.
Raven blinked, taken aback. "Who are you?"
The boy didn't answer. He glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting something—or someone—to appear.
"Please," he said again, stepping closer. "They'll find me."
Raven's instincts screamed at her to back away, but something in the boy's eyes held her in place.
"Who's 'they'?" she asked, her voice softer now.
Before he could respond, the air grew colder. A low growl echoed through the library, and Raven felt the mark on her arm burn.
The boy's eyes widened in terror. "They're here."
Without warning, the shadows around them began to writhe, coalescing into monstrous shapes. Glowing red eyes pierced the darkness, and skeletal hands clawed at the air.
Raven's heart raced as she stumbled back. "Corvus! A little help here?"
The raven flapped his wings, his voice sharp. "Draw the sigil on the ground! Quickly!"
"Sigil?" Raven snapped, dodging as one of the shadow creatures lunged at her. "You could've mentioned that earlier!"
Corvus ignored her, circling above. "The spellbook—page twenty-three!"
Raven fumbled with the satchel, pulling out the heavy book. The shadow creatures hissed and screeched, closing in as she flipped through the pages. Her hands shook, but she managed to find the sigil—a circular design filled with intricate runes.
"Got it!" she yelled, dropping to her knees. Using a piece of chalk from the satchel, she began to trace the sigil on the floor.
The boy watched in silence, his face pale. "They won't stop," he whispered.
"Not helping," Raven muttered, her focus on the chalk lines.
One of the creatures lunged at her, its claws grazing her arm. She cried out, the pain sharp and searing.
"Raven!" Corvus called.
"I'm fine!" she bit out, finishing the last rune.
The moment the sigil was complete, it glowed with a blinding white light. The shadow creatures screeched, their forms dissolving into mist.
Raven sat back, breathing heavily. Her arm throbbed where the creature had scratched her, but the pain was fading.
The boy stared at the glowing sigil, his expression unreadable. "You're a warden," he said quietly.
Raven raised an eyebrow. "And you're not exactly normal, either. Care to explain what just happened?"
The boy hesitated, his gaze darting to the shadows. "Not here. It's not safe."
Corvus landed beside Raven, his feathers ruffled. "He's right. The library isn't a place to linger once disturbed."
Raven stood, brushing chalk dust from her hands. "Fine. But you're coming with me," she said, pointing at the boy.
He nodded, his expression solemn.
As they left the library, Raven couldn't shake the feeling that she had just stepped into something far bigger than herself. The boy's presence, the shadow creatures, the whispers—they were all pieces of a puzzle she didn't yet understand.
But one thing was clear: the mark on her arm wasn't just a curse. It was a key, and someone—or something—wanted it badly.