For the first time in his life, he willingly got ready before the birds even chirped. Standing in front of the tall mirror in the corner of his room, Xal added the final touches to his jet black hair as he kept the straight fringes falling on his forehead. Leaving a few buttons undone, he tucked the white shirt into the blue denim, grabbed the small blue backpack, and stepped out.
Though it was a bit too late, his rule number three as a bodyguard had always been to do his research before accepting a job. Never in his life had Xal thought he would willingly go to a library for that. Yet there he was, standing in front of the oldest library of Sorya province, every inch holding memories of the past and countless treasures of knowledge.
The complex architecture, resembling a monastery, was built centuries ago and stood oddly among the boring concrete structures surrounding it. He softly inhaled the scent of books that clung to the air and admired the beams of sunlight that peeked inside, casting shadows across the brown marble floor. His fingers glided over the wooden shelves as he observed the carvings of lotus flowers on the giant dark pillars and the old lanterns hanging from the domed ceiling.
Silence, broken only by the occasional whisper or flutter of turning pages, was comforting. Gathering a stack of books about spirits and clans, he sank into the brightest corner of a cozy couch.
Curiosity grew with each paragraph he finished. The information was intriguing, and Xal found himself lost in the pages. He discovered more about the spirit dimension than Kian had mentioned, but almost nothing about the clan named Vyl.
Vyl and Kian. Both held an unnamed familiarity.
Closing the book, he let his thoughts wander back to their encounter. Unlike the moment he first met Kian, the moments before he left, the dismissive and nonchalant attitude was unpleasant, and irritation buzzed at the memory.
He was good at lying. So Xal decided he couldn't trust this Kian guy so easily.
That was a lie.
He could still picture himself stepping in front of a gun for him, which he would never do for a stranger. It made no sense and pissed him off even more. He didn't do this kind of thing. He didn't get attached. He didn't care for anyone other than family.
Shaking his head, he exhaled sharply. "Whatever." He flicked the thought away like a marble. No point digging into a reason he wasn't going to find an answer to. Better to keep moving, keep acting.
Later, he blamed it all on the white thread that represented undying trust.
His goal was simple: keep the guy alive, use him, and get revenge on Khem. As dusk fell, he borrowed some books to read at home and left the quiet library, entering the chaos outside.
His mom had asked him to buy some ingredients to make a dessert; he picked them up on the way home. When he opened the door and stepped inside, his mother was already in the kitchen, trying to finish dinner before his father got back from work at the bank.