The background noise of the library was calming as Volan’s mind drifted in the darkness. A scribble on paper here, a turn of a page there. The scent of an old, leather bound book as it was gently put back on the shelf with care. Quiet chit-chat between students while the machines went about their work with the gentle droning of their crystal cores fading in and out. It was a sea of gentle sounds that fell upon him as he slept.

Then something began to invade the calm waves and slowly drowned out the calm ambience. It started low, but grew louder and louder until it was the only thing Volan could hear. Waves crashed upon one another violently while white noise hummed about in every direction. The sounds shifted and churned. It was like hearing tearing paper and an interrupted signal forced right up to your ear as everything became a crushing storm of static.

Make it stop!

Volan tossed and turned in his mind. He tried to block out the noise, but it would force its way back in. Unable to take anymore, he forced his eyes open but found himself in an eerily empty library.

“Where… am I?”

Stepping away from the desk he was resting at, Volan looked in every direction yet saw no one. Only he and the furniture of the library were present. Everyone was gone. It was as though he were alone in this mirrored version of the world.

Curious, but wanting to know what’s going on, Volan started to investigate the area. He looked everywhere he possibly could, but it only made things stranger. This library, while a copy of the one he was in, only mimicked the interior. Taking a look out one of the building’s windows, there was nothing outside but a white void like the rest of the world had been erased. And when he tried to open one of the doors that should lead back into the Academy, it refused to budge. The handle would turn and click, but no amount of force or leverage would open it.

“What in the Flame is going on?”

Seeing that there wasn’t any obvious way out, Volan sat down in one of the chairs and tried to figure things out.

Okay… So I’m in a place that’s similar to the library, but only in appearance. I remember my face hitting the textbook, so maybe I’m having a lucid dream or something? If so, hopefully I can wake up or find some means to.

As he thought about the situation, small whispers started to make themselves known. They weren’t intelligible, but Volan could tell they were coming from deep within the library.

Is someone else here?

Getting up, Volan shouted, “Is someone there?!”

No response. He tried again.

“Come out! I’d rather not be alone if I’m stuck here!”

Volan’s words silenced the whispers and echoed through the library’s empty passageways, but the whispers returned and continued where they left off. Seeing no other real means of understanding what’s going on at the moment, he apprehensively walked towards where the whispers were coming from.

Moving past shelf after shelf of books, the whispers grew louder yet only continued to sound like nonsensical ramblings. And yet, they didn’t come across as uncomfortable to Volan now that he could better hear them. He wasn’t sure why, but the whispers came across as sad yet desperate. Soon enough, Volan was calmly striding deeper and deeper into the false library.

Quickly, the surrounding bookshelves became the walls of a long and dark hallway. Stretching on endlessly, an uncountable number of books were to the left and right of him. However, the titles printed on their spines changed words to symbols. This place was no longer within anyone’s level of familiarity as even the bookshelves faded into darkness as Volan began to run towards the source of the whispers.

With each step deeper into the dark, the whispers surrounded him. Every one beckoned him to venture deeper, and Volan could not resist their call. It was no longer curiosity that pushed him to go further, rather it was something… else. What drew him in was indescribable, yet he felt the need to do it.

And for a while, as he ran, there was nothing. Volan ran blindly through the darkness with only the whispers to guide him. Even his own footsteps turned mute in the unnatural abyss. Then he saw something. It was a light in the distance. And the closer he got to it, sounds began to return to him.

What… is that?

Volan’s feet began to hit against cobblestone as the darkness changed into a cleanly carved stone hallway. Water ran in chiseled grooves beneath his feet towards the light. Stopping to realize where he now is, Volan put his hand to the wall. It was cold, but he felt faint life emanate from it. Not in a way that the wall itself was alive, but whatever was here had been waiting a long time.

Then a whisper passed by his ear, “Free… me…”

Continuing deeper, the hallway became even more detailed. Immaculately carved, but strange looking, “eyes” were placed in a scattered pattern on the walls and floor. However, there was a crude slash across each and every one of them. It was like someone had taken a knife and hastily cut across all of them in an impassioned rage. Then Volan started to see flowers growing amongst mossy patches. The petals had a pleasant fade from white at the base and a sapphire blue at the tip.

Another whisper passed by Volan’s ear, “Help me… Release me…”

He continued further in and soon the light was close enough to blind him. Raising his hand to shade his eyes, Volan continued down the path and walked into the light. Now at the end of the path the light eased up and his eyes adjusted. Looking around, Volan was now in a large, circular room with light cascading down from above. Tree roots and moss were everywhere with some bits even breaking through and peering out from behind the stone wall. It was a serene sight.

But, amongst the serenity, there was one oddity that heavily contrasted things. Held restrained by dark chains was a tome. The metal links wrapped around the book and extended out into embedded points in the room. It struggled against its bindings, jingling the restraints, wanting to be free. And at the same time, as Volan watched it, the whispers fell silent.

The tome was strange to say the least. It appeared to be bound in flesh and iron while two asymmetrical eyes opened and stared at Volan. One was fairly larger than the other and the way the eyes were positioned, the book appeared to be staring at you from an angle. All the while a toothy and fanged mouth adorned the right-side of the tome, opening and closing to suggest it was breathing.

Cautiously, Volan approached the pedestal. This book was bizarre to say the least. But even with its otherworldly appearance, he felt no hostility from it. Instead, it was more like he and the book recognized each other in some way and it wanted Volan to help it.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

As Volan reached out for the tome, there was suddenly a second presence in the room and Volan found himself unable to move. His body was paralyzed with one foot slightly forward and arm outstretched.

The second presence spoke, “Seems I’m right on time.”

Volan tried to turn his head, but all that moved were his eyes. They shifted from one corner to the other desperately searching for the source of the voice. He’d ask whoever had entered the place, but nothing would move.

The chained tome began to violently struggle and spoke in agitated grumbles. It wanted to speak, to do something, but it was just as helpless as Volan right now.

Clawed fingers held onto Volan at the waist and uncomfortably caressed his chest. They were bone white from tip to base, but red robes made it impossible to see anymore than that.

“If only I could have such a fascinating specimen to exist within, Galarin.”

Its voice was unusual. It sounded masculine, yet not at the same time. It was an amalgamation of voices trying to tune themselves into something the being was still figuring out. With every few syllables, it changed and morphed into something else. This thing was fascinated with Volan but jealous of whoever had already put a claim on him.

What is this thing talking about or to?!

Goosebumps stood on end across Volan’s skin as the being got even closer and rested its head on his shoulder, embracing Volan. Volan was able to get one eye to see a bit of whoever it was holding him. It had a mask that, from what he could tell from the limited angle, had a boney mask resembling a barn owl. Dark holes resided where eyes should, and extra holes extend from the “eyes” like it was crying. Other than this, Volan could see a red hood covering the head of this thing. Whatever this creature was, it wanted to remain anonymous.

It continued, “I’ve yet to find mine, but it will be soon. Galarin, He will soon start it all again. Perhaps… perform better than the last time, and He might show mercy.”

Its words made the chained book struggle even more, but it was pointless. No amount of taunting would let the book break free, and both it and the uninvited guest knew this.

Volan wondered, What in the Flame is this thing talking about?!

“But for now, you two aren’t to meet just yet.”

It moved its clawed fingers up to Volan’s eyes and started to shut them.

It whispered, “Now, son of man, you won’t remember any of this. So…wake up!”

And just like that, Volan’s eyes opened again and he was back in the Academy’s library. A cold sweat ran down the back of his neck and his heart raced a mile a minute. Then he saw someone’s hand on his shoulder and suddenly turned around.

“Hey! Time to wake up, Volan!”

Unfortunately, he’d done it a bit too quickly and fell on the ground with a loud thud. Shaking his head and groaning in pain for a moment, Volan looked up to see a familiar face. It was his friend and squadmate, Broderick Knight.

“You alright?”

Volan replied, “You could say that.”

Volan slowly got up from the ground, picking up the chair at the same time and dusted himself off.

Broderick was quite tall for being the same age as Volan. Where Volan was a fairly above average 180 centimeters, Broderick was 190 centimeters tall at the least. He also had crimson hair and faded green eyes. Broderick was a very good looking guy who even Volan envied at times, yet he was always happy to see him.

The crimson-haired lad was an Old House noble and Synergist-class student. An odd combination for a son of the House of the Red Hand, but a fact others overlooked because of his skills. And while Broderick definitely had looks that could kill, he was an oddly quiet person most of the time.

When Volan had met him, Broderick was off staring into the distance beneath an oak tree whose leaves had just finished changing colors for autumn. Broderick always had this lonely aura about him. Volan wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it, but he was glad they’d met. Broderick was one of few people Volan genuinely trusted in the school as they both seemed to share the curse of carrying expectations that didn’t match them.

Unfortunately, the two could rarely interact openly due to how the Old Nobles were, yet they’d found ways in places no one ever looked. Broderick even got Volan into gaming through the Crystalnet. So when they couldn’t hang out in person, they did so online. For Volan, there wasn’t really anyone else like Broderick and he was happy to call his fellow odd-man-out a friend.

Volan asked, “What are you doing here? Thought you would’ve gone home by now.”

Broderick cocked an eyebrow and put a hand to his hip, “Well, I would be. But your usual means of getting home asked me where you were since you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Wait… they’ve been trying to call me?”

Volan looked genuinely shocked and panicked. Frantically he dug a hand into his school bag and dug out his phone. Clicking the button on the side, the screen lit up to show several missed calls and that three hours had passed since he stepped into the library.

“Shit!” exclaimed Volan.

Broderick chuckled with his head turned and a closed hand over his mouth.

“You might wanna get going before your dad kicks your ass for being late.”

Volan stuffed his phone into his pocket.

“Hopefully he won’t be too mad… Thanks for the wake up though. If you hadn’t, I might’ve been stuck dreaming for another hour or two.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow at training?”

Volan nodded, “And hopefully I don’t get on Viviana’s nerves too much again.”

The two gave each other a friendly bump of forearm against forearm and Volan began to take off, but stopped when Broderick called out to him one more time.

“Oh! By the way!” exclaimed Broderick.

Volan froze mid-step and turned his head, “Hm?”

“Happy birthday, man.”

Volan smiled and nodded before continuing on. Flinging the library door open and running full-speed through the hallways until he could get outside and sprint for the gates. And when he arrived, Volan found himself face-to-face with a rather pissed off looking woman. She wore a suit and hept her hair tied back in a short ponytail. Through gumbles, grit teeth, and a sharp frown, Volan knew better than to try and explain things. Meekly, he bowed his head and apologized. She sighed and opened the door to the car. Getting in, Volan put his seat belt on and tried to keep himself from doing anything that might set her off. And on the ride home, Volan could only think about his father who had probably been waiting far too long.

Volan’s father, Gael Roltand, is the current Sword-Captain for the Flameguard, leader of the unit directly under the command of the royal family of Zekanto. And with that position came duties that always kept him endlessly busy.

Gael was a commoner by birth and joined the military early on. Throughout the years he’d proven himself in battle time after time, quickly rising through the ranks. Soon enough, Gael was commanding respect from every soldier underneath him and never left a man behind. He was always the first in and last out. Thankfully, Gael was both incredibly strong and durable. Never much of one for strategy, but always one for making sure the right person was doing the right job. If one of the men under him knew the best means of attacking or preparing, he’d listen and adjust as necessary.

And this flexible trait went beyond just work. Gael knew Volan wasn’t the same as himself and thus didn’t expect Volan to turn out the same way he had. Rather, Gael wanted Volan to always do his best and become a good man. But that didn’t mean Volan was allowed to slack off. Gael made sure Volan always tried his best, otherwise it meant a personal sparring lesson with dad. And he always made sure Volan learned from his mistakes during these.

With his father’s guidance, Volan was instilled with the principles of honesty, humility, integrity and courage. And while there were certainly times when lying would be much easier route, Volan kept to what he was taught even if it meant failure. But even in moments of failure, Gael supported his son and let his son pick himself back up and find another way forward.

To Volan, Gael was the perfect father; even though Gael was rarely ever home. Yet, Volan always wondered who his mother was. He’d never known her, and everyone he’d ever asked couldn’t give a straight answer. Some people assumed that Volan was adopted or the child of a prostitute. Even Gael was vague on the matter, but never implied she was dead or had abandoned them.

Instead, Gael only ever said that she couldn’t be with them right now. Volan always heard from his dad that one day she’d return when the time was right. And while the words weren’t the most convincing, it was the silent hope Volan had seen in his father’s eyes that he trusted. Also, when Volan was younger and some kid or parent called him a bastard or other horrible thing, Gael would intervene himself. Gael never cared what anyone said about him, but any slights against Volan or the woman he loves never went without at least one fist being thrown.

Volan wondered when that promised day he’d meet his mother would come. But for now, he was just looking forward to seeing his dad again. It’d been months since the last time they’d actually spoken to each other in person, but Gael always met Volan in person on either of their birthdays. And from what Volan could tell, Gael would sooner die than ever miss out on a day with Volan.

Speaking to himself, Volan absentmindedly spoke, “Can’t wait to see you again, dad.”

And from the driver’s seat, the chaperone gave a resigned sigh and let Volan off the hook as they drove to the apartment complex Volan called home.