The planks cracked in the same places they always did. The big windows letting much less light in the anyone would guess they would. The air was damp and the exact opposite of fresh. Yet, it was home. It was all I ever knew.

I never feared the place, even though i can easily see what might seem as scary to others. It was always a place of comfort to me, though can acknowledge that it is unusual, at least in the place I live in. The big stone manor sticks out like a sore thumb, compared to the mostly humble wooden houses around it. It is the last place where I can remember my family, at least the remnants of it. Grandpa used to live here with me. He was a kind, gentle man. Liked explaining more then just beating. His life was tragic. Grandma died at the birth of my dad, leaving granddad with a child. He wasn't wealthy then, not enough to care for a child.

I stepped on another plank, fourth step to the second story, the loudest of them all. The sound sends a chill down my spine.

Granddads name was Philip. After Granny left to the lands beyond, he decided to make a better life for his son. He left dad in an orphanage, for ten years. Made a lot of money in the meantime. When he was ready, he came back for my dad. If you asked Philip about it, he would say it was the biggest mistake of his life.

I passed a great brown armchair, Philips favorite. The book he read last still sitting right were he left it. No dust amassed yet.

I don't remember my dad, I was too small when he departed. Philip never stopped apologizing for that, he blamed himself. Said that dad never nurtured his family values, was a rebel. One day he just upped and left my mother here with me. They found him some time later, beat and frozen to death quite some way away. Philips eyes watered every time he told me stories of my father. He never found any peace about it.

I picked up the book. "The pendulum of man" a book from some smart doctor. I know the bookcase it belongs to, I ought to put it back.

Mother disappeared some time after she stopped breast-feeding me. Said she wasn't needed anymore. That she had nothing to keep her here. I don't remember how she looked either, Philip decided not to keep any pictures of her. I miss my mother nonetheless.

I slid the book in place.

*click*

A part of the bookcase seemed to open.

I never knew of any secret deposits here. Never opened one at least. Slowly, I pushed the little door open, sliding other books to the side. An old smell came from the space inside, probably haven't been opened in a while.

I pushed the lantern higher, illuminating the space inside.

More books, figures.

Philip talked about how books make a man. Well, "knowledge maketh man". That was what he used to say, all high and proper, but with a soft smile. All the knowledge he held didn't seem to do him any good though.

Seems I found his secret stash, probably the more important pieces of his wide collection. That made me happier then I would have guessed. It was a little bit I haven't explored about Philip yet, a little bit of him left, just for me.

The books varied in language, in style. More then half I couldn't decipher at all. Then...I found it. A book sealed with a tight leather strap. Odd even inbetween the other books,

I took it out and slid my fingers across the spine. I love books. Its hard not to, when you grow up next to the paragon of reading, like Philip was. I like to imagine that books have a certain character about them. You can feel it by their smell, by how they feel in your hands, by the paper and by the ink inside it. This one felt almost exactly like Philip. Gentle, kind, awfully smart, with a little irony sprinkled in it. As soon as my fingers brushed against the seal, it came undone. Probably too old, I thought.

I decided to make myself comfortable, I slid into Philips armchair. I brought one more book, just incase I couldn't read this one. I put my leg over the other, the same way Philip used to. I looked over to the pipe on the table next to me. In time, I want to learn how to smoke, but I didn't get around to it yet. I opened the book, but when I read the first few sentences, the book came alight, almost blinding me. When my eyes came to, I realized that someone was looking at me. Someone who wasn't there before.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

For some time, I've no idea how long, I just stared. The person that appeared before me was a woman and a beautiful one at that. She seemed without flaw, her hair flowing around her like black strands of night, her green eyes shining with her gentle smile, pulling you in.

I stopped only after she giggled, amused by my astonishment no doubt.

"H-Hello." I stammered.

"Greetings."

"Yeah…"

That’s all I managed before another round of utter amazement. Her long white robe was spotless, the whitest white I have ever seen. She seemed…heavenly. To the truest extent of the word.

"I can see you are confused, had you not summoned me with intention?"

"No…I mean, summoned? I summoned you?" the confusion grabbed the reins from amazement, sending me on a spiral encompassed by; what the fuck?

"Yes, an explanation is in order I believe." she sat down on another couch. I almost winced at the thought of that shining fabric meeting the dusty couch. She didn’t seem to care. "My name is Nataniel, I am a light bringer, tasked with helping a scion fully fledge from a newborn, to a true superare." she pronounced the word similarly to what latin sounded like, though not quite just that.

"Superare? What is that?"

"Something you can become, should you wish so. Many mistakenly call them saints, or even gods. Though they are powerful enough to seem like they are. A different breed of man you could say, an older one."

"And I am one too?"

"Not yet, but you may. It is tradition, my ilk find their scion, they nurture them, guide them where guidance is needed as I have found you my lord."

"You are telling me I can become a god?"

"More or less." she said nonchalantly and started looking through the room. Then her eyes rested on me once more. Her piercing gaze stripping me of any defenses I might have had.

"You need to agree to take up the mantle of the scion, my lord. I need to hear you specifically say it. I can't bring you anywhere without your permission. This mission is voluntary."

"Can I think about it?"

"I am afraid I have limited time here." her eyes didn’t move an inch. "If you want to follow me there, you need to say so now."

I frantically looked through the room, searching for anything that would show me a reason to go, or to stay. Anything to help me decide, but there was nothing here. Then I realized. For all the things I lived through here, I didn’t feel anything that would bond me to this place. I liked it, but I did not love it. It felt haunted with the stories Philip told, with the history of my family.

"I want to go."

"That was faster then expected, that means we've still got some time." Nataniel said in surprise, though it vanished as soon as it came "Might I ask you, my lord, about your name?"

"Thren, Thren Daggernick and please, don’t call me lord. Call me by name."

"I will do so Thren, an unusual name don’t you think?"

"I think that much more unusual things just happened."

"You seem surprisingly calm." She eyed me curiously.

"I am used to mad things, they tend to feel more stale after a while. Bland"

"Stale you say? Bland? Do I feel that way to you?"

A trap, I know of these. "No," I say "of course not."

"Good." she said, holding out her hand. As I've grabbed it Nataniel's smile grew and she whispered something to the wind, gently enough for me not to hear.

Then the whole room started to come apart. The books stacked everyone around started to disappear, letting those put on top to fall to the floor, just to disappear a moment later. The world outside became fully white.

The strangest about the world coming undone was the lack of sound. When something just, vanishes, it makes no sound, leaving you only with memory as a clue to its existence in the first place.