The exploration of the forgotten courtyard should have answered some of Aren’s questions.
Instead, it created even more.
The silver-haired woman’s statue proved she had existed.
At least, at some point in history.
The weathered inscription beneath the statue suggested she had been important.
Perhaps even legendary.
Yet nobody talked about her.
No history classes mentioned her.
No academy records openly referenced her.
It was as if someone had erased her from history.
The thought bothered Aren more than he cared to admit.
Because if an entire person could disappear from historical records, what else had been hidden?
And why did every clue seem connected to him?
The questions followed him throughout the weekend and into the following week.
By Monday morning, his curiosity had transformed into determination.
He needed answers.
Real answers.
Not fragments.
Not visions.
Not mysterious warnings.
Answers.
And there was only one place in Astryx Academy likely to contain them.
The Grand Library.
The library had become Aren’s second home.
Whenever he wasn’t attending classes, eating, or sleeping, he was usually there.
Most students visited only when assignments demanded it.
Aren visited because the library felt alive.
Ancient.
Filled with secrets.
Thousands upon thousands of books occupied its shelves.
Records from dozens of kingdoms.
Historical accounts stretching back centuries.
Magical theories written by legendary scholars.
If knowledge existed, the Grand Library probably possessed it.
The challenge was finding the right knowledge.
That afternoon, after classes ended, Aren headed directly toward the archive section.
As expected, Mira eventually appeared.
She always seemed to know where he was.
“Research again?”
Aren glanced up from a stack of books.
“Maybe.”
“That’s a yes.”
She sat across from him.
Several books floated beside her, carried by a small magical spell.
Aren had noticed she preferred practical magic over flashy displays.
Unlike many students, she rarely showed off.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time here lately.”
“I know.”
“Looking for something specific?”
Aren hesitated.
“History.”
Mira raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not specific.”
“Ancient history.”
“Still not specific.”
Aren sighed.
She wasn’t wrong.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly explain the truth.
Not yet.
Mira studied him for a moment.
Then she surprisingly let the topic drop.
For now.
Several hours passed.
Most of Aren’s research produced little useful information.
The same pattern repeated everywhere.
Missing records.
Damaged texts.
Incomplete references.
Entire sections of history appeared intentionally removed.
The deeper he searched, the more suspicious it became.
It wasn’t natural.
Random damage created inconsistencies.
This felt organized.
Purposeful.
Someone had wanted certain information hidden.
The question was why.
As evening approached, Aren finally decided to take a break.
He closed another disappointing book and leaned back in his chair.
Nothing.
Again.
Maybe he was searching the wrong section.
Maybe the answers weren’t in historical records at all.
His gaze drifted across the library.
Students studied quietly.
Librarians organized shelves.
Everything appeared ordinary.
Then he noticed something unusual.
An elderly librarian standing near a distant bookshelf.
Aren had seen him before.
Several times.
Yet unlike the other librarians, this man rarely interacted with students.
He simply observed.
Watched.
Almost like he was guarding something.
The old man caught Aren looking.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Then the librarian smiled.
A strange smile.
Knowing.
Almost amused.
Aren frowned.
The old man turned and disappeared between two towering bookshelves.
For some reason, curiosity immediately won.
Five minutes later, Aren found himself following the librarian.
The decision was probably a mistake.
Yet he couldn’t stop himself. This story is hosted at g.com.
The elderly man moved surprisingly quickly.
Every time Aren thought he had caught up, the librarian vanished around another corner.
Deeper.
Further into the library.
Eventually, the student sections disappeared.
Then the archive sections.
Then areas Aren had never visited before.
The shelves grew older.
Dustier.
Less frequently used.
The atmosphere changed.
The library felt quieter here.
Almost isolated from the rest of the academy.
Finally, Aren rounded a corner and found the old librarian standing beside a narrow shelf.
Waiting.
The man smiled.
“I wondered how long it would take.”
Aren stopped.
“You knew I was following you?”
“Of course.”
The answer seemed obvious to him.
The librarian’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
“You’ve been searching for answers.”
Aren immediately became cautious.
“What answers?”
The old man chuckled.
“A careful response.”
He gestured toward the surrounding shelves.
“Most students search for knowledge.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“You search for history.”
Aren remained silent.
The librarian nodded as if confirming something.
Then he stepped aside.
Revealing a section of books hidden behind the shelf.
At first glance, nothing appeared unusual.
Then Aren noticed it.
One book.
Unlike the others.
No title.
No identifying marks.
Only an ancient symbol.
The symbol.
The same one connected to the throne.
His pulse quickened.
“What is that?”
The librarian glanced at the book.
“A reference.”
“A reference to what?”
The old man smiled.
“That depends on who’s reading it.”
Helpful.
Very helpful.
Aren stepped closer.
The strange book looked ancient.
Older than almost anything else nearby.
Yet it remained perfectly preserved.
No dust covered its surface.
No signs of age appeared.
Almost as though time avoided touching it.
“Can I read it?”
The librarian considered the question.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he nodded.
“You may try.”
Try?
That wasn’t a reassuring word.
Still, Aren carefully removed the book from the shelf.
The cover felt warm.
Almost alive.
The moment he touched it, the surrounding air seemed to change.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to notice.
The library grew quieter.
The world sharper.
Aren slowly opened the first page.
It was blank.
Completely blank.
He flipped to the second page.
Blank.
Third page.
Blank.
Every page appeared empty.
Aren frowned.
“There’s nothing here.”
The librarian chuckled softly.
“Isn’t there?”
Aren looked down again.
Then froze.
Words began appearing across the page.
Slowly.
One letter at a time.
As though invisible ink was revealing itself.
His heartbeat quickened.
The text continued forming.
Ancient symbols.
Strange names.
Forgotten places.
Then one phrase emerged clearly.
The Hidden Library
Aren stared.
The words seemed impossible.
The Hidden Library?
He turned the page.
More text appeared.
Beneath knowledge lies forgotten knowledge.
Beneath memory lies forgotten memory.
The writing ended abruptly.
The remainder of the page stayed blank.
Aren flipped through the book rapidly.
Nothing else appeared.
Only those few sentences.
Then even they began fading.
Within seconds, the pages returned to complete emptiness.
Aren looked up.
“What was that?”
The librarian’s expression remained calm.
“An invitation.”
“To where?”
The old man smiled.
“That is for you to discover.”
Before Aren could ask another question, footsteps echoed nearby.
Several students entered the aisle.
The moment they appeared, the atmosphere changed.
The strange feeling vanished.
The book became ordinary once more.
The librarian nodded politely toward the newcomers.
Then he turned back to Aren.
Only—
He wasn’t there.
Aren blinked.
The old man had disappeared.
Completely.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Nothing.
One moment he stood beside the shelf.
The next moment he was gone.
The nearby students seemed not to notice anything unusual.
Aren looked around.
The librarian had vanished.
Yet the book remained in his hands.
Proof that the encounter had happened.
At least he hoped it was proof.
Because lately, reality felt increasingly unreliable.
That evening, Aren met Mira in one of the academy gardens.
The sun was setting behind the mountains.
Golden light painted the campus in warm colors.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Mira broke the silence.
“You found something.”
Again, not a question.
Aren laughed softly.
“How do you always know?”
“You have the same expression every time.”
“I have an expression?”
“Apparently.”
Aren shook his head.
“That’s concerning.”
A faint smile appeared on Mira’s face.
Then her expression grew serious.
“What did you find?”
Aren hesitated.
For once, he considered telling her everything.
The dreams.
The throne.
The memories.
The warnings.
The mysterious librarian.
Yet something stopped him.
Not distrust.
The opposite.
He didn’t want to drag her into whatever this was.
Not until he understood it himself.
So he settled for a partial truth.
“A clue.”
Mira studied him carefully.
Then surprisingly nodded.
“Good.”
Aren blinked.
“Good?”
“You’re finally making progress.”
The answer caught him off guard.
For some reason, he found himself smiling.
Far below Astryx Academy, hidden beyond countless magical barriers, an ancient chamber remained sealed.
Dust covered the floor.
Darkness filled every corner.
No living person had entered for centuries.
At the center of the chamber stood a single door.
Massive.
Ancient.
Covered in forgotten runes.
For generations, the door had remained silent.
Motionless.
Unchanging.
Tonight, however, one rune flickered.
Then another.
Then a third.
A faint pulse echoed through the darkness.
The ancient mechanisms surrounding the door slowly awakened.
As though responding to a call.
Or perhaps a search.
Above, Aren stared out the window of his dormitory.
The words from the mysterious book echoed through his mind.
Seek the library unseen.
A hidden library.
A forgotten collection of knowledge.
A place buried even deeper than the academy’s archives.
If it existed, it might finally contain the answers he needed.
The problem was finding it.
And something told him that finding it would be far more dangerous than he imagined.