The Archivist of Forgotten Realms

Prologue

Mikasa Tanaka stood at the window, her gaze fixed on the rain-slicked streets below. Each droplet seemed to race down the glass, leaving behind a trail of shimmering water. As she watched, a familiar heaviness settled in her chest, a sensation that had become all too common lately. It was as if she was drifting aimlessly through life, without any real purpose or direction. The world outside appeared dull and mundane, with its monotonous cycle of university lectures, café shifts, and unanswered questions about her future. The dreary skies mirrored her feelings of uncertainty and restlessness, casting everything in a sepia-toned hue.

Mikasa let out a heavy sigh and turned away from the window, deciding to distract herself from her thoughts by getting ready for work. She pulled on her apron and tied her hair into a messy bun, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of dissatisfaction that seemed to follow her everywhere these days.

As she walked through the rain towards the café, she couldn’t help but envy the people around her who seemed to have it all figured out. They had jobs they loved, or at least enjoyed, and seemed content with their lives. While she, on the other hand, felt like she was just going through the motions.

When she arrived at work, Mikasa was greeted by the familiar chatter and bustle of customers. She put on a smile and started taking orders, trying to focus on her tasks and not let herself get lost in her thoughts.

But as the day went on, Mikasa couldn’t shake off the feeling of being stuck in a rut. She had always been a hard worker and had excelled in her studies, but now that she was nearing graduation, she had no idea what she wanted to do with her degree in history. It was a subject she loved dearly, but it didn’t seem like it could lead to any practical career options.

Her friends and family would often ask her what her plans were after graduation, and each time she would give a vague answer about wanting to travel or take some time off before figuring things out. But deep down, Mikasa knew that wasn’t really what she wanted.

She wanted to have a clear sense of purpose and direction in life, something that would make all those years of hard work feel worth it. But no matter how hard she tried or how many career quizzes or self-assessment tests she took online, nothing seemed to click.

The evening rush was over and Mikasa found herself sitting alone at an empty table while wiping down some counters. She looked around at the cozy café, with its warm lighting and comforting aroma

Mikasa let out a frustrated groan and leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. She had been trying to avoid thinking about internships and career planning for weeks now, hoping that if she ignored it long enough, something would magically fall into place.

But her mom's constant reminders and her friends' excited discussions about their plans after graduation made it impossible to ignore them any longer. She couldn't keep hiding from this forever.

With a heavy heart, Mikasa picked up her phone and opened the message from her mom. She scanned through it quickly, noting the different internship opportunities her mom had sent her way. They all seemed interesting enough, but none of them sparked any real excitement or passion within her.

Internships were supposed to be a stepping stone toward a successful career, but Mikasa couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the pressure to find the perfect one. And what if she ended up hating it? What if she spent all this time and effort on an internship that didn't lead to anything meaningful?

As these thoughts swirled around in her head, Mikasa felt even more lost than before. She had always been someone who knew what they wanted and worked hard to achieve it. But now, as graduation loomed closer, she felt like she was drifting aimlessly with no sense of direction.

She glanced around her room, decorated with posters of books and literary quotes. This was where she felt most at home and most like herself – surrounded by words and stories. But how could that translate into a career? How could she turn her love for literature into a practical job?

Mikasa's mind kept going back to that question as days turned into weeks. Her friends were starting to secure internships while she was still stuck in limbo, unsure of what path to take.

One evening after work, Mikasa decided to take a walk around town in hopes of clearing her head. As she wandered through the streets, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city, she found herself drawn to a quaint little bookstore.

The old-fashioned sign above the door read "The Book Nook" and Mikasa couldn't resist stepping inside. The store was small but cozy, with shelves upon shelves of books lining every wall. The air was filled with the familiar smell of old pages and ink.

As she perused the aisles, her fingers lightly brushing over the spines of the books, Mikasa felt a sense of calm wash over her. This was where she belonged – surrounded by stories and characters that had become like friends to her.

She made her way to the poetry section and pulled out a book at random. The words on the page seemed to speak directly to her soul, and before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face.

Lost in thought and emotion, Mikasa didn't even notice when someone approached her until they spoke up.

"Can I help you find something?"

Mikasa looked up to see a woman with kind eyes and a warm smile standing next to her. She quickly wiped away her tears and gave a shy nod.

"I-I'm just looking," she said softly.

The woman nodded understandingly and gave Mikasa some space as she continued browsing. But now and then, Mikasa would steal glances at the woman behind the counter who seemed to radiate passion for literature and books.

As if sensing Mikasa's curiosity, the woman struck up a conversation with her as she was checking out at the counter.

"So what brings you here tonight? Are you also an avid reader?" She asked kindly.

Mikasa hesitated for a moment before finally deciding to open up about her struggles with finding an internship that truly sparked excitement within her.

The woman listened attentively as Mikasa shared her struggles. She could see the passion in Mikasa's eyes as she spoke about her love for literature. It was a feeling that the woman knew all too well.

"I can understand how you feel," the woman said sympathetically. "Sometimes it can be difficult to find our true calling. But don't worry, everything will fall into place eventually."

Mikasa gave a small smile, grateful for the woman's kind words. As she left the bookstore, she couldn't stop thinking about their conversation. Maybe there was more to her love for books than just a hobby.

That night, Mikasa couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing with thoughts and ideas, all revolving around literature and books. She grabbed a notebook and started jotting down her thoughts.

As she wrote, it became clear to Mikasa that her true passion lay in writing. She had always loved immersing herself in stories and now she wanted to create her own.

The next day at work, instead of browsing job listings like she usually did on her lunch break, Mikasa opened up a blank Word document on her computer and began pouring out her thoughts onto the page.

In just one hour, Mikasa had written more than she had thought possible. She felt energized and excited in a way that she hadn't felt in a long time.

From that day on, Mikasa spent every free moment working on her writing. She would wake up early before work or stay up late into the night crafting stories and developing characters.

Eventually, Mikasa mustered up the courage to share some of her writing with friends and family. Their positive feedback only fueled her passion even more.

After feeling satisfied with the progress she made, Mikasa decided to take it easy and relax in her room.

Her gaze shifted to the pile of books stacked by her bedside. Old, worn novels, history texts, second-hand volumes she had picked up over the years from dusty shops around town. These were her refuge, the only things that still sparked a fire in her chest.

Between the pages of those books, Mikasa discovered a world beyond her own. She lost herself in forgotten stories and ancient realms, each one bursting with life and color. These words on paper held a power that transcended time, pulling her into their depths with an alluring force. As she read, it was as if she could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, smell the sweet fragrance of flowers, and hear the faint whispers of long-gone voices. In these pages, Mikasa found something real and powerful that she had been missing in her own life.

Perhaps that is why she was drawn to the dusty shelves of second-hand bookstores. The musty smell of old pages and the lingering scents of countless readers enveloped her, offering an escape from the mundane reality of her own life. Within the yellowed pages and cracked spines, she could immerse herself in forgotten worlds and lose track of time. It was a welcome respite from the monotony of her daily routine. As she ran her fingers over the faded covers, she felt a sense of adventure and possibility unfolding before her, beckoning her to explore beyond the confines of her existence. In these forgotten worlds, she could forget about her troubles and become someone else entirely.

The soft, gentle vibration of her phone sent a jolt of excitement through Mikasa's body. She knew it was from Emi, her best friend and the one person who always seemed to have a sixth sense for when Mikasa needed a pick-me-up. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she read the message, feeling grateful for having such a caring and observant friend by her side. Despite her tendency to retreat into herself, Emi never failed to reach out and remind Mikasa that she was not alone.

Emi: Don’t even think about skipping movie night! We need to save you from your “history student” cave-dwelling.

Mikasa smiled softly. Emi was always trying to drag her into something social—gatherings, parties, anything to get her out of the house and into the world. But the truth was, she didn’t fit in with their group the way Emi did. They weren’t exactly her people. And tonight, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Mikasa: Rain check? I’m really tired today.

She hit send and immediately felt a pang of guilt. The words on her screen seemed to weigh heavy on her chest, like lead weights holding her down. She wasn't physically tired, but there was an exhaustion within her that she couldn't explain, draining her energy and motivation. Even the thought of socializing seemed daunting and impossible.

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But before she could dwell on her feelings, a reply came through.

Emi: Fine. BUT you owe me! You can't hide away in your little world while I'm around. I won't let you turn into some isolated historian under my watchful eye.

Mikasa chuckled despite herself, shaking her head. If anyone could make her feel better, it was Emi. But not tonight. She slipped on her jacket and grabbed her bag. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and she had a couple of hours before her café shift started. Maybe she could wander through Old Pages, the small second-hand bookstore she loved. The familiar, comforting smell of paper and dust always seemed to clear her head.

Just an hour of peace—then back to reality.

The bell above the door chimed as Mikasa entered Old Pages, the worn wooden floors creaking beneath her feet. The scent of old books washed over her like a comforting wave, instantly grounding her. Here, she wasn’t just some aimless student. Here, she could lose herself in the stories of people who had lived lives far more exciting than hers.

“Back again, Mikasa?” called Mr. Fujimoto, the elderly shop owner, from behind the counter. His thick glasses slid down his nose as he peered over a book. “You’re going to run out of things to read at this rate.”

“I’m sure you’ll restock before I get through them all,” Mikasa replied with a small smile, heading toward the back corner where the older, less organized books were kept.

Her heart quickened with excitement as she entered her favorite part of the store—the forgotten section. Here, books that had once been cherished and loved now lay abandoned on dusty shelves, their pages yellowed and their spines cracked. She couldn't help but wonder about the stories these books held, the lives they had touched.

As she ran her fingers along the spines, she could almost feel the history within them. Each book seemed to whisper its secrets to her, begging to be read once more. Her mind wandered from her classes, the endless lectures, and the pressure to figure out her future, to the world contained within these forgotten books.

But then her mother's voice pierced through her thoughts, reminding her of the practicalities of life. The weight of expectations and doubts settled in her stomach as she remembered her mom's questions about internships and making a stable income.

Mikasa, you need to think practically. A degree in history won't pay the bills. But in this forgotten corner of the store, surrounded by lost stories waiting to be rediscovered, Mikasa couldn't help but hold on to a glimmer of hope for a future filled with passion and purpose instead of practicality.

Despite the nagging thoughts in her mind, she forced herself to focus on the ancient books before her. Her eyes scanned over the rows of leather-bound volumes, searching for any hidden gems. And then she found it - a slim, unassuming book tucked between two larger tomes. The dark, cracked leather cover drew her in, begging to be opened.

There was no title visible on the cover, adding to its mysterious allure. With trembling hands, she slid the book off the shelf and held it up to the dim light. It felt surprisingly light in her grasp, as though time itself had hollowed out its pages. But what caught her attention most was the intricate symbol adorning the cover - an open book surrounded by swirling clouds, embossed in faint silver. It seemed almost alive, pulsating with some unknown energy that called out to her curious soul.

“What are you?” she murmured, brushing a layer of dust from the cover.

Mikasa hesitated, her fingers hovering over the book’s cover. She had half-expected the pages to disintegrate at her touch, considering how neglected and forgotten the rest of the store seemed to be. But as she flipped open the cover, her eyes widened in surprise.

The pages were white and crisp, with not a single crease or yellow spot in sight. It was as if they had been untouched by time itself. And yet, there was no title or author's name on the first page. Only a simple sentence written in elegant cursive handwriting caught her eye:

Write your own story

Confused yet intrigued, Mikasa turned to the next page, expecting to see blank paper waiting for her words. Instead, there was an intricate illustration of a feather pen resting on top of an open book, its pages filled with swirling clouds similar to the one on the cover.

Confusion flooded her mind as she questioned the authenticity of the book. Was it simply a prop, meant to frighten and deceive her? Despite her doubts, Mikasa was certain that magic was nothing more than a figment of imagination and did not truly exist.

Yet here she was, holding a mysterious book that seemed to defy all logic and reason. Mikasa couldn't resist its pull any longer and decided to sit down at one of the dusty tables scattered around the store.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up an old inkwell and feather quill and dipped it into the ink. Her hand trembled slightly as she brought it closer to the pristine page in front of her. What should she write? What story did this strange book want from her?

The book seemed to glow brighter and the feather pen in her hand felt heavier, almost as if sensing her hesitation

There are worlds beyond your understanding. Realms, forgotten by time, waiting to be recovered.

Mikasa blinked. She squinted at the words, expecting them to fade or disappear like a trick of the light, but they remained, dark and bold against the page.

Do you seek the stories of the forgotten?

The cozy atmosphere of the bookstore suddenly grew tense and eerie. The once familiar warmth was replaced with a cold, palpable silence that seemed to suffocate the room. Mikasa's heart quickened, an electric current of anticipation and fear coursing through her veins. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the next page, unsure of what secrets it may hold.

But before she could turn it, the letters shifted.

You have been chosen.

A sudden, intense heat bloomed in her palm, radiating from the ancient book she held. She gasped, a sharp intake of breath as she instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but her fingers were inexplicably stuck, held in place as if by an unseen force.

Her eyes widened in astonishment as the words on the page before her began to glow with a soft, otherworldly light. The eerie glow seemed to permeate from deep within the pages, casting shadows and bathing everything around her in an ethereal aura. She could feel the weight of magic pulsing through her veins, a tingling sensation that both exhilarated and terrified her all at once.

“What the hell…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The shelves around her seemed to warp, their wooden forms twisting and bending like a distorted reflection in a funhouse mirror. The once steady floor now tilted beneath Mikasa's feet, threatening to send her tumbling down. The air grew thick and suffocating, making it difficult for her to catch her breath. She stumbled backward, her eyes growing wider as the words on the page continued to shift and pulse with an otherworldly light. It was as if the book itself was alive, trying to pull her deeper into its grasp.

You are the next Archivist.

The room spun, a dizzying array of colors and shapes blending in a disorienting whirlwind. A loud, ringing hum filled her ears, drowning out all other sounds. The familiar smell of paper and dust from the bookstore was quickly overtaken by the overwhelming sensation of being lost in a swirling maelstrom of light and shadow. She felt her throat constrict as she tried to scream for help, but no sound escaped her lips. Her vision blurred, and for a moment, it felt as if the ground beneath her had disappeared and she was falling into an endless void.

When Mikasa opened her eyes, she was no longer in Old Pages.

She stood in an endless void of stars, weightless, as though suspended in space. Her heart hammered in her chest, a rapid staccato beat that echoed through the emptiness around her. There was no ground beneath her feet, no sky above—just an infinite stretch of shimmering stars, swirling in slow, delicate patterns around her.

As she floated, she couldn't help but feel small and insignificant compared to the vast expanse of the universe that enveloped her. Yet at the same time, there was a sense of awe and wonder that filled her soul.

Far below—or was it above?—she could see something taking shape. A library. No, not just any library. This one was massive, stretching endlessly in all directions like a maze of knowledge and secrets waiting to be discovered. Its towering shelves seemed to reach up into infinity, each one filled with books that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness. It was a beautiful sight, overwhelming and impossible all at once.

She couldn't resist the pull towards this magnificent place, drawn by the promise of endless stories and knowledge waiting for her within its walls. With every step closer, the library grew more detailed and intricate, until she finally reached its grand entrance and stepped inside, ready to explore the wonders within.

Welcome to the Grand Archive, a voice whispered in her mind. It was ancient and resonant, like the echo of a distant storm.

Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat. “Wh-where am I?”

You are the chosen Archivist. The keeper of forgotten worlds, lost histories, and erased realms. The Archive has selected you to recover these stories—before they are lost forever.

Her head swam. This couldn’t be real. She must have passed out in the bookstore, had a strange dream, hit her head—anything but this.

“Why me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The forgotten worlds call to those who can understand them. You have been chosen to find them, to restore what has been lost. Or let it fade into oblivion.

Mikasa's eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the vast expanse of shelves that stretched endlessly around her. Books, scrolls, and ancient artifacts were meticulously organized and displayed, creating a labyrinthine maze of knowledge and history. The Archivist - that was what it had called her. But she was just a university student, accustomed to studying in tidy classrooms and attending lectures. This was beyond anything she could have imagined or prepared for. She felt like a speck in the grand scheme of this immense repository of knowledge.

“Okay,” she said shakily. “But how am I supposed to—”

Before she could finish her question, a book appeared in her hand, much like the one she had found in Old Pages. Its cover was worn, but the symbol—an open book surrounded by swirling clouds—glowed faintly beneath her fingers.

Open it.

With trembling hands, Mikasa opened the book. The pages fluttered, blank at first, but then words began to form.

Your world is but one of many. Forgotten realms lie beyond your understanding, each with stories waiting to be told. You are their keeper, their last chance at survival.

Mikasa stood frozen, her eyes wide as she took in the desolate landscape before her. This was not the library anymore, but a barren plain of cracked earth and crumbling ruins. The sky was a deep shade of purple, and there were no stars to be seen.

“What is this place?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

This is one of the forgotten realms that needs your help. The Archive has chosen it for you to explore first.

Mikasa’s heart raced as she realized the enormity of her task. She had expected to simply read books and collect knowledge, not be transported to other worlds and tasked with saving them.

She looked down at the book in her hand, its pages now filled with words and images that seemed to shift and change before her very eyes. She began to read, drawn in by the tale unfolding before her.

The realm was called Azura, a once-bustling world filled with magic and wonder. But then the darkness came—a powerful force that threatened to destroy everything in its path. The people of Azura fought valiantly, but they were no match for this ancient evil.

And so, they turned to their last hope: an ancient artifact known as the Orb of Light. With it, they could harness the power of light itself and defeat the darkness once and for all.

But in their desperation, they had forgotten one crucial detail—the orb needed a special key to unlock its true potential. And without it, it was useless against the darkness.

Mikasa felt a pang of sadness as she read on, knowing how this story would end if she didn’t intervene. She closed her eyes and focused on the orb in her mind’s eye. It glowed brightly for a moment before fading away completely.

Your task is clear now, Archivist. You must find this key and bring it back before it’s too late for Azura.

“This…this can’t be real,” Mikasa breathed.

But it was.

She stood in the heart of a forgotten world.

The first forgotten world.

Thump. Thump. Her heart pounded fiercely, its beats echoing in her chest like a war drum. The weight of the Archive's choosing pressed down on her, a heavy burden that she wasn't sure she could bear. How could she, someone who struggled to figure out her own life, be responsible for entire worlds?

But as she stood amidst the ruins, a spark of something ignited within her.

The stories of these lost worlds were now in her hands, waiting to be unearthed and revealed. And with them came the power to decide their fates - a responsibility that both terrified and exhilarated her.

As she stood alone, gazing out at the unfamiliar surroundings, her mind raced with thoughts of her loved ones and the life she left behind. The memories of her friends, mother, favorite cafe, and university flooded her mind, tugging at her heartstrings.

But she knew she couldn't dwell on them now. She had a task at hand and had to focus all of her energy on it. With determination in her eyes, she tucked the book securely under her arm and set out to unravel the mystery of her disappearance. She needed to find out what had happened to herself and Azura, and ultimately find a way back home to her old life. The road ahead would be difficult, but she was determined to face it head-on.