Chapter-1| The Forgotten Day
Rowan woke to the chaotic hum of a bustling street. Neon lights flickered above, casting shimmering reflections onto the damp pavement. The faint smell of roasted chestnuts mixed with exhaust fumes, the kind of scent that belonged in a lively city center. Rowan blinked groggily, his body aching from lying on the cold ground.
He sat up slowly, his head spinning as he tried to piece together where he was. Around him, the city seemed alive. Pedestrians hurried past, their faces illuminated by the glow of advertising screens. Towering buildings loomed above, their windows gleaming like stars. Across the street, a group of teenagers laughed, leaning against the walls of a small diner. Everything felt unnervingly normal, yet foreign.
“Why are you sitting here, sir?”
Rowan turned to see a man standing over him, holding a steaming cup of coffee. The man’s sharp suit and polished shoes contrasted sharply with Rowan’s disheveled appearance. His face was warm, friendly, yet laced with curiosity.
“I...” Rowan hesitated. His voice was hoarse, his throat dry. “Where am I?”
The man raised an eyebrow, then suddenly burst into laughter. The sound echoed above the hum of the city. “Oh, you’re funny! You’re in Tessalon, of course. Right in the heart of it!”
“Tessalon?” Rowan repeated, the word catching in his throat. He stood slowly, his legs shaky beneath him. “No, that’s not possible.”
The man frowned, his expression softening. “You alright, mister? Maybe you should sit back down. You look like you’ve had a rough night.”
But Rowan barely heard him. Tessalon. The name rang in his ears. Tessalon was a city, yes, but it was nearly 90 kilometers from his hometown of Asgard. He had never been there before. How could he possibly have ended up here?
“I was in my bedroom,” he muttered, more to himself than the man. “I went to sleep. This doesn’t make any sense.”
The man offered a sympathetic smile before walking away, leaving Rowan alone amidst the bustling crowd.
---
Rowan’s mind raced as he staggered down the street. How could I have gotten here? Was I drugged? Did someone bring me here? The more he thought, the less it made sense. He needed answers, but more than that, he needed to get home.
A train station loomed ahead, its arched entrance glowing under the harsh light of fluorescent lamps. Rowan quickened his pace, hope swelling in his chest. Inside, the station was alive with activity. Announcements echoed from overhead speakers, calling out destinations he didn’t recognize.
He approached the ticket counter, his hands trembling slightly as he leaned against it.
“Hello,” he said, forcing calm into his voice. “I need a ticket to Asgard.”
The clerk, a middle-aged man with graying hair, raised an eyebrow. “Asgard?”
“Yes,” Rowan said, his voice more assertive. “Asgard. My home.”
The clerk frowned, glancing at his screen as if searching for confirmation. “Sir, I think you’re mistaken. There’s no place called Asgard.”
Rowan froze. His pulse quickened, panic creeping into his voice. “What do you mean there’s no Asgard? Of course there is. It’s the state that helped save Caldrith during the war. I served in its military!”
The clerk sighed, his expression one of pity. “Sir, I don’t know what to tell you, but there’s no Asgard. Never has been. If you’re thinking of the war, that was Midgard’s victory, not Asgard’s. And you don’t look old enough to have served in any military.”
Rowan staggered back, his vision swimming. No Asgard? Midgard won the war? What is he talking about? He turned and stumbled out of the station, his heart pounding in his chest.
---
Rowan’s desperation led him through the streets of Tessalon, searching for anything that could make sense of this nightmare. His mind clung to one hope—the Great Library of Tessalon. He had heard of its reputation, its vast archives of knowledge.
“If this is some kind of trick, the library will have answers,” he thought, his resolve hardening.
The streets blurred together as he hurried toward the library. His legs ached, and his breath came in short gasps. When he finally reached the massive stone building, its towering columns stretched into the sky like ancient sentinels. He pushed through the heavy wooden doors, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Rows upon rows of shelves stretched before him, filled with books of every size and color. The scent of aged paper filled the air, comforting yet overwhelming. He didn’t know where to start.
“Excuse me,” he called out to a librarian.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Before he could get an answer, a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision darkened, his legs giving out beneath him.
---
Rowan woke to find himself in a dark, windowless room. The only light came from a narrow vent high above, casting faint beams across the cold stone walls. His head throbbed, and his limbs felt like lead.
“Where am I?” he muttered, his voice hoarse. Panic gripped him as he realized he was alone.
He jumped to his feet as the sound of footsteps echoed from beyond the door. Frantically, he searched the room for anything that could serve as a weapon.
The door creaked open, and a woman stepped inside. Her green eyes glinted in the dim light, and her lips curved into a sly smile.
“You’re awake,” she said, her tone calm and sweet.
Rowan stepped back, his fists clenched. “Who are you? Why did you bring me here?”
“Relax,” she said, holding up her hands. “I didn’t harm you. I saved you.”
“Saved me from what?”
She smirked. “Let’s just say, you were wandering a little too close to answers you weren’t ready for.”
Rowan’s anger flared. “What are you talking about? I don’t even know what’s happening!”
She ignored his outburst and gestured for him to follow. “Come with me. There’s something you need to see.”
---
The woman led him through a series of winding corridors, the walls lined with ornate carvings that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness. The air buzzed with an energy Rowan couldn’t explain.
Finally, they emerged into a vast chamber that took Rowan’s breath away.
“Welcome to the Great Universal Library,” the woman said with a flourish.
Rowan stared in awe. The chamber was massive, its shelves stretching up into the darkness above. Books of every shape and size filled the shelves, their spines glowing faintly. At the center of the room stood a towering obelisk, its surface etched with intricate symbols.
“What is this place?” Rowan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The woman smiled. “It’s a sanctuary. A place outside of time, where knowledge is preserved and protected.”
She gestured toward a nearby window, and Rowan’s jaw dropped. Outside was a swirling expanse of cosmic colors—galaxies frozen mid-explosion, stars that shimmered unnaturally. It was a sight he could barely comprehend.
“This library exists in another dimension,” the woman explained. “A fragment of the universe frozen in time.”
Rowan turned to her, his confusion giving way to awe. “How... how is this possible?”
The woman smirked. “Let’s just say, it took a lot of effort. But don’t ask too many questions, or you might regret it.”
Before he could respond, she began walking away. “Explore if you’d like. But don’t touch anything you don’t understand.”
---
Rowan wandered the library, marveling at its scale. Every corner seemed to hold secrets beyond his imagination. He approached the obelisk, its glowing symbols pulsing softly. At its base were four hand sensors, arranged in a square.
“What is this?” he muttered.
As he reached out to touch it, a strange sensation washed over him—a hum deep within his chest, as if the obelisk itself were alive. He pulled his hand back, unsettled.
His attention shifted to a lone book on a pedestal, separate from the others. Its leather cover shimmered faintly, and the air around it seemed to ripple.
Drawn to it, Rowan stepped closer, but with every step, the hum in his chest grew louder. By the time he reached the pedestal, it felt like his heart was vibrating.
Suddenly, an invisible force threw him backward, sending him sprawling across the floor.
The book’s title glowed faintly in the dim light:
History of the Cronarchs and the Erased Timelines.
A deep, resonant voice echoed through the library.
“You have seen too much, Rowan. Yet, not enough. Do you dare to uncover the truth, knowing it could unravel everything?”
Rowan struggled to his feet, his gaze locked on the book. “What is this? Who are you?”
The voice chuckled darkly. “The answers lie within the book. But beware—knowledge demands a price.”
Suddenly, the obelisk flared to life, its symbols glowing brightly. A booming voice echoed through the chamber:
“YOUR ACTIONS MAY NOT CHANGE THE PAST, BUT THEY WILL SHAPE THE FUTURE.”
Rowan stared at the obelisk, his mind racing. Determination hardened his features.
“If I can’t change the past,” he muttered, “then I’ll change the future.”
Unbeknownst to him, the ancient mechanisms of fate had already begun to turn, and his choices would ripple across realities unseen.
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TO BE CONTINUED…