Page 82 of Of Shadow and Moon

Nasarea steps forward, her magic flaring as she reaches out to touch the door's surface. The instant her fingers graze the wood, a humming reverberates through the air.

“This has to be it,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

I take a step closer, my heart pounding. The air around the door is freezing, my breath curling in front of me like smoke. “Well,” I say, my voice shakier than I'd like, “what are we waiting for?”

Nasarea looks back at me, her expression unreadable. “If we open this, there's no going back. Whatever is inside… it's been hidden for a reason.”

I nod my head. My fingers quiver with anticipation. “Let's do it.”

She slaps her hand flat against the door, and her magic pulsates in waves; with a low groan, the door starts to move. The wood creaks as it swings inward, revealing a darkness so thick it feels alive. I force myself to step forward, Nasarea close behind.

The room beyond is immense, impossibly so, the high ceilings disappearing into the shadows above. Shelves of centuries old books stretch off into the darkness, their spines coated with dust. The air smells of parchment and decay.

“We found it,” Nasarea whispers, her voice caught between awe and disbelief.

The forbidden library.

Whatever answers lie here, whatever truths have been buried, we're about to dig up. And I can't help but think that nothing will ever be the same again.

The first thing that strikes me is the smell of old parchment and ink, thick and heady, with just a hint of herbs that signals the use of magic. We make our way down slowly, the dim light from above gradually fading with every step. At the bottom, the sight takes my breath away.

“This is—” Nasarea falters, her voice hushed.

“Unreal,” I finish, stepping further in. The floor beneath us is of polished stone, etched with intricate patterns.

Wemove cautiously, scanning the shelves around us for something that catches the eye.

The shelves themselves are impossibly tall, carved from dark, rich wood, dust coating each surface. They're tightly packed with books?some bound in cracked leather, others so worn that the spines look ready to crumble at even the slightest touch. A ladder leans against one of them, its metal rungs worn smooth by centuries of use, though it doesn't seem to have been moved in ages.

The center of the library opens into a great reading area lined by long, heavy oak tables. Their surfaces are scarred with scratches and ink stains, the marks of countless hands that have studied here before.

A great fireplace looms on the far wall, its mantel carved with designs that appear to twist and glimmer when I try to look directly at them. The hearth pushes cold air out as though the fire once there was overtaken by the world around it. Above it hangs a great tapestry, its edges frayed, but the picture on it is still vivid: a battlefield, with a blood red moon overhead, warriors and creatures fighting in chaotic motion.

As I walk further in, I notice the hum of magic in the air. Subtle, it's like a low vibration just beneath my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

I stop in front of one of the shelves, running my fingers over the spines of the books. The titles are faded and in languages I don't recognize. Some have a smattering of gold that's long since dulled, while others bear strange glyphs that glow under the touch of my fingers. I pull one book free; its weight is surprising in my hands. With a sigil on the cover that I don't know, I open it up, ink is subtly rearranging itself.

“This place…” I whisper, my words barely audible. My voice sounds out of place here, too loud. It is as if I have entered another world altogether, one that time and the outside world have not touched.

Behind me, Nasarea gasps, drawing me from my thoughts. She is staring up toward the ceiling, wide eyed in wonder. “This isn't just a library,” she says . “It's a vault.”

I nod, unable to tear my gaze from the books surrounding us. This is not a collection of old texts; it's a place of power. And as I stand there, a deep sense of foreboding settles in my chest.

It doesn't take long before a book catches my eye, its spine blackened and cracked, the title barely legible.

I reach for the book; its heavy as I lift it from the shelf. Before I can even open it, the book wrenches itself free from my hands and floats midair, darting across the room.

“What the fuck is–?” I start, but the words catch in my throat as the book lands heavily on one of the ancient oak tables, its impact sending a cloud of dust spiraling into the air.

Nasarea gasps behind me, her magic flaring at her fingertips as if she’s ready to defend against an attack. But the book doesn’t stop there. Its cover creaks open on its own, and the pages begin to flip rapidly, moving as though guided by unseen hands. The hum of magic fills the air, growing.

“What the hell is happening?” Nasarea whispers, her voice tight.

I take a cautious step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. “I don’t know, but… I think it’s showing us something.”

The book comes to an abrupt stop, its pages lying open, the air suddenly heavy with stillness. A glow emanatesfrom the ink, and I take another step closer, drawn by a force I can’t explain.

The text is written in a language I don’t fully recognize, but it feels… familiar. The letters shimmer, rearranging themselves as I stare at them, their meaning unraveling in my mind like they’ve been waiting for me to understand.

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