Ric gazed intently at the mud wall, his suspicion mounting with each passing second. Behind these walls lay many secrets, and within them, even more.

He hurled a spherical rock at the wall, examining it as it bounced off and rolled back. Retrieving it, he rolled it towards the wall again. This time, it came to a halt right at the edge. After a moment’s pause, it rolled back to his feet. A smile broke through his calculating expression, leaving the others perplexed.

“Playing alone?” Henzo inquired, disappointment clear as a sign hanging around his neck.

“So solitary,” scoffed Debbie. “Even in our presence.”

“He doesn’t regard us as Company,” Ravi remarked.

“And I don’t think of you as Company,” Debbie shot back. “But I still regard you.”

“Remember who brought you here?”

“You’re welcome for that.” Debbie brushed her bangs aside. “Besides, stick around. I need a ride home, too.”

“I can’t—”

“—Have any of you noticed this peculiar phenomenon?” Ric interjected as the rock rolled back to his feet for the third time.

“What?” The trio exclaimed, scanning their surroundings for the elusive anomaly.

———<>|*|<>———

“What’s so special about that?” Yanko frowned at the sisters.

“If I could read, I would have shoved the words down your throat, old man,” Mae taunted.

The jet-black book featured a simple lock over the book block that opened with a rather swipe. However, the sisters could not decipher the text inside, so they resorted to squabbling amongst themselves.

“Your time’s up. Hand it over,” Shay insisted, tugging at the paper, the paper folding with a crunching sound.

“You had your turn,” Belle countered, grabbing the opposite side.

“When did my turn end? I just got the book,” Mae protested.

Rika forced herself off the sofa, cracking her knuckles. They had interrupted her blissful moment on the couch, so now someone had to face the consequences.

Moments later, the sisters sank into their cushions, each sporting a slight bump on their head, visible under their tangled, muddy braids.

“I thought I could read!” Rika frowned at the silvery squiggles on the black pages. “Perhaps you can’t write.” She shifted the blame to Yanko, who raised his hands in a defensive position.

“Hey! I’m self-taught.”

“Not you! The guy you’re wearing.”

“Oh! I can’t speak for him,” Yanko remarked, examining the snake’s smooth, slippery hands. “It might be hard to hold a quill with these hands. Let me have a look.” This statement earned him questioning stares from everyone. “I’m more versed in this world than all of you put together,” he taunted. “Give it to me.”

Wrilo nodded in agreement and snatched the book away from Rika.

“Hey!” she protested.

“Now you know how it feels,” one sister muttered.

“Who said that?” Rika turned her gaze to her sisters as Wrilo handed the book over to Yanko.

“Huh. Hmm,” hummed Yanko, flipping through the pages.

The group’s ears perked up. “You can read it?” they asked, their eyes bulging in anticipation.

“Not a word,” Yanko laughed, scratching his head.

“Geezer,” they spat in unison.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“This is odd, though,” Yanko remarked, flipping the book upside down, to the side, pulling it closer, then placing it away, squinting, yet unable to decipher a single word.

“Blaming it on not having your spectacles?” Mae predicted.

“Classic old man,” the sisters agreed.

“So much for combined wisdom,” Wrilo frowned, disappointed in Yanko.

Her stare bore into Yanko as if she were hurling rocks at him, and he felt compelled to defend himself. “Unable to read a single word! Isn’t that suspicious?” He flipped the book and this time the lock snapped shut. “Oops, my bad.”

Yanko attempted to pry the lock open, while Wrilo and Mae moved closer. One to assist and the other to snatch the book away from the useless old man. But before they could reach Yanko, silver lines dashed across the book block, and it flipped open with a hiss.

“Huh!” Yanko exclaimed, surprised.

“What happened?” Rika and the sisters edged closer, intrigued by the sudden shift in Yanko’s demeanor and the light emanating from the book.

“I can read it now,” Yanko claimed, more surprised than the others.

Mae climbed onto his shoulder and peered into the book. “No, you can’t,” she frowned.

“Yes, I can,” Yanko insisted.

Wrilo snatched the book away from Yanko and squinted at the lines.

“Hey!”

“Now you know how it feels,” Mae chuckled, dodging Yanko’s attempts to catch her.

“Come here, you little devil,” Yanko growled, reaching for Mae.

Rika peered over Wrilo’s head, her tall stature granting her an advantage. She often resented her long limbs, but moments like these made her appreciate them. “I can’t either.”

“See...” Mae jabbed at Yanko.

“Lying old man,” the sisters chorused in disbelief.

“I swear I did,” Yanko protested.

Mae muttered sarcastically. “As if that’s worth anything.”

“Wait!” Wrilo pulled Yanko closer, placing his hand over the book.

“Hey! I’m not a book,” Yanko protested.

“She seems to have an issue with the action itself,” Rika observed, stepping back.

“That she does.”

“I can read it too now!” Wrilo exclaimed.

Rika abandoned her caution and moved closer, gaping alongside Wrilo. “I can too!”

Mae perched on top of Yanko’s head and squinted at the text. “I can’t. Oh... wait! I can’t read,” she chuckled.

“Neither can we!” the sisters realized and burst into laughter.

The adults shook their heads in exasperation and returned to the task at hand.

“Some kind of concealing spell. Activates when the owner touches it,” Wrilo frowned, fixing her gaze on Yanko.

“I am not—”

“The guy you are wearing,” Rika reminded him once more.

“Read it,” Wrilo insisted, shoving the book toward Yanko.

“You need a better way to take and give stuff,” Yanko muttered, sinking back onto the sofa and rubbing his chest.

“Agreed,” the group nodded in unison.

As everyone settled into the plush embrace of their respective sofas, their eyes remained fixed on Yanko, anticipation hanging in the air like fireflies on a summer night.

Yanko reclined with the grace of a seasoned storyteller, ready to transport his audience to unknown realms, while Mae perched atop his head like a regal bird, adding a touch of whimsy to the scene.

“I tried my best to be good,” Yanko mimicked Uvrodon’s voice as he told the tale, for it was his diary after all. “Yet they all focused on my contract. Aren’t we all forced into these? Am I any different?”

The room fell silent, even their breaths slowing to a halt as Yanko’s words washed over them. Memories flood in, overwhelming their senses, prompting their eyes to fill with tears for some respite.

“I made them haul fresh air from ‘Richie Lane’, a place they might never get to see, let alone realize existed. Yet all they will ever remember is the work I made them do... I strode into the ‘End Line’ disregarding orders and my own safety alike, just for the people of Hope. To make them realize there was an entire world behind the mud wall they considered unbreakable. A trap lay behind the mud wall and within these walls.”

“Walls?” Rika’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yes, we have always had more than one,” Yanko continued, the book answering the question as if it expected the reader to ask such questions. “Yet none of us ever witness more than the two that box us in. Some never realize they are caged; for these are the ones for whom the world starts and ends between their house and work. You should consider yourself lucky if you see two walls, and even more so as the people of Hope only get to look at one. They only have the one to protect them from the creatures outside these walls.”

“Is he talking about us?” Shay pouted.

“No!” Rika interjected before answering her own question. “I don’t think so. He did mention us in the book. I guess he is talking about the creatures in the forest.”

“Everyone knows about them, don’t they?” Shay glanced around, receiving shrugs from her sisters. “We do, and we are kids. How come they don’t?”

“The walls!?” Wrilo raised a suspicious brow, earning nods of agreement from the adults.

Yanko confirmed their suspicions with his years of wisdom. But when they disregarded it, he found a paragraph that made them consider. “The kingdoms guard their secrets closer than their treasures. Citizens and noblemen are kept in the dark for their own safety. I never suspected the king’s words until I traveled and witnessed the horrors hidden within the unclaimed lands. Not even an army of dragons can claim the world as their greatest treasure, for within the narrowest crevice lay a monster unlike any other, threatening the dragons to stay hidden inside their walls.”

“I am sorry,” Mae chuckled nervously. “I thought I heard dragons mentioned.”

“Read with care.” Wrilo scowled, restraining herself from lashing out at the old-timer.

“I forget all of you are just kids,” Yanko chuckled.

“You reminded us of that ten times in the last hour.”

“Dragons are real,” Yanko declared, spreading his hands wide and fiddling with the lamps beside him for extra effect.

The shadows danced around the room, and the group actually saw wings, a toothy maw, and split eyes staring at them. Mentioning their race itself seemed to summon the monstrous beast into the room, and their shadow was enough to drain the blood from their faces.

“Dragons...!” The group hummed as one, a sense of fear etched within their very being, making them bow in obedience.

═─┈─{═1/2═}─┈─═