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POV: Unknown
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The frigid light of the withered lantern crept across the walls of the dark hallway; a gradual stream of mist trailed behind me like dry ice lingering in the air.
A dense foliage of impressions, motifs, and general architectural artistry grew more intricate as I moved deeper around the hidden storage zone.
I was like a ghost passing through a forest in the dead of night, kept company only by the cold moonlight passing through me.
Suddenly, a high pitched wince of a sound dashed through the space around me.
I stopped dead in my tracks, a barely concealed tear boring through my tightly closed eyes.
There was silence, and I relaxed my breath.
My wing curled toward me, and the slow breath washed over the stained feathers. Its warmth carried to the skin beneath and soothed the shallow cut; the sharp pulses rushing through my limb were smouldering and growing dull.
A jagged protrusion entered my sight.
It was one of the armour pieces, entirely inconvenient to use in any battle, and it had pierced my cotton white wings.
I sighed.
I'm still getting used to this growth spurt, and it's done nothing to make my life easier. If anything, I'm more noticeable now...
The wings were flexible and wrapped around me like a blanket; perhaps it would be better to hold them against my body... even if it's quite smothering.
If only they were developed enough to move as aptly as others.
A wistful look pushed its way onto my face, but I continued trudging onward, now with my wings held beneath my arms and against my body.
Faintly, the details of an indentation in the wall made themselves present; it was easily glanced over and wouldn't be the kind of thing you'd notice unless you were looking for it.
Luckily, I've always had good eyes.
I drew nearer to the frame, but a faint light caught my gaze. Light travels far here, scattering amongst all of the delicately polished objects randomly assorted around as if it were a hall of mirrors.
Overall, it was still dim, making it hard to navigate.
Grasping it tightly, I raised the white crystal I had been pouring my mana into and held it against my chest.
My pace quickened, and I weaved through the last remaining obstacles until I met the wall.
It was much larger than I, but I had little trouble pushing my hand against its glossy surface and pulsing enough mana through.
At least my chaotic energy is good for this; no one would casually grasp an artificial mana stone like this either.
The tell-tale signs of the door having opened didn't even occur, and the wall gently split apart.
Now carried by the wind of my anxiety, I quickly whisked my body inside and watched the wall gently reform itself in a matter of seconds.
For a few moments, I looked at the ground and calmed myself down before turning around and facing the vast library before me.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Relief washed over me, and I began walking among the many shelves and into the dense deluge of literacy.
But right now, there is something I need to find.
A book—the only book that had ever given me comfort, given me clarity—was in these halls. A book once ripped from my hands after being mistakenly placed in the unrestricted area.
But I should be thankful I was born here at all; this is the angel Acumen's domain, which is less coincidental of a name than it would first appear, since it is a title granted to leaders based on how they are viewed...
I know it's breaking the doctrine... but I can't keep living like this.
For a moment, a terrified look crossed my face, but I squashed that rising welling of fear and threw it away.
I... I just don't care anymore. This isn't fair.
Spotting the historical section, I quickly moved forward.
Holding the lantern upwards, I continued scanning my eyes across the numerous, unintelligible titles, but all I found was the need to hold back a building sneeze at the scent of aged parchment.
When I looked back up, a familiar visage caught my gaze from the periphery.
That's it! This has to be it.
Dashing over, I quickly slid the book from the shelf, and a coating of dust kicked off into the air, melding with the misty glow of the lamp light.
Lacking any patience, I sat on the ice-smooth ground and paid it no mind.
To my surprise, the words within the book changed as they entered my gaze.
My brows furrowed.
Why would Master Acumen have this book? We're not all that important over here... Or is it that they don't see what I do?
A small budding warmth blossomed in my heart, but I pushed it away and held it in my heart. I wanted to feel special, like I was worth something for once--for someone.
I still felt sad, but the truth was always sad in my cursed eyes.
It took me a while to prepare myself, but I opened to the section that enraptured me before it was torn away...
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Upon the death of the Archaic God, their inerrant existence shattered and seeded the dying world.
...
The Remnant of the Mind, the Remnant of the Class, the Remnant of the Soul, and the Remnants of the Body.
From mind came the human; from class came the angel; from soul came the demon; and from body came the free, worldly races, unbound by -
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Huh? The word is missing. The missing lines were one thing, but I was so ready for something big just now!
My nails dug into the page in frustration.
The story might be quite simplified. It sounds like a fairy tale in and of itself, but there might be a strong element of truth to it. At least, I want to believe so. If I recall that one detail correctly... it should be coming up.
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Over the numerous eons, ... have been documented. Complete ... the world. Each is different, but factoring in the less likely possibilities reveals a consistency. If this is true, then it implies that ... can be ...
I believe that mind ...
That body, especially...
Class ought to be angelic, ... disregard sense.
Soul is powerful, but a ... force. I have ensured it not to be in the hands of a demon ... unfortunately will take on the countenance of a demon, but it does not matter if they live or die; it only matters that it is obtained by ... .
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"Soul..."
"Countenance of a demon..."
I turned my eyes from the page and looked at the glossed ground.
My reflection stared back at me, and the vibrant purple irises glowed through the light of the lantern at my side.
It can't be.
I pulled at my cheek, as if checking my face were my own...
My magic has been chaotic ever since my soul awakening.
The pace of my heart quickened.
It's not possible. Ludicrous even.
But why do I look this way? With an impossible set of eyes... Why does this book reveal its words to me?
They had never been outright hurtful to me. No one had. We all follow the doctrine. But they turn away from me and look at me like I'm an illness; I...
... just wanted to be normal.
A hot tear ran down my cheek and onto the page below.
Reactively, I brushed it with my thumb before choosing to distract myself with the last words of the page—all others had mysteriously become gibberish.
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Time is long; ... no apparent connection ... the fold itself exists, but power is the only means of change.
Perhaps one day we can be free.
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Power is the only means of change...
I looked up into the light of my lamp and sighed.
I released my barely controlled flow and watched it flicker out of existence, no longer finding comfort in the embrace of its hollow light.