Chapter-4-Truths uncovered
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The book looked rugged, almost to the point of tearing. Its spine was cracked, and the edges of the pages were frayed, as if it had been passed through countless hands over the centuries. The pages themselves were a mosaic of yellow and brown, stained by time and perhaps something more mysterious. The book had an aura of antiquity, as though it had been plucked from the shelves of a forgotten library in a fantasy novel. Rowan ran his fingers over the cover, feeling the texture of the worn leather. It was cold to the touch, yet it seemed to hum faintly, as if alive. He hesitated for a moment, then opened it to the first page.
In elegant calligraphy, the title read: *Chapter 1 – History of the CRONARCHS.* Below it, the text began: *“This world is not what it seems, not at all! This world is a carefully orchestrated opera, a grand musical where nothing is real. At this point, the world is so far removed from what it once was! We lost the prime timeline! We lost everything with the Great Reset! But I think you, yes you, the person reading this, are not caught up to the history. So, let’s take a look from the beginning, shall we?”*
Rowan’s brow furrowed as he read the words. They were cryptic, almost nonsensical, yet they stirred something deep within him. A sense of unease crept into his chest, as though the book was tugging at memories he didn’t know he had. He was about to turn the page when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Hello? Hello! Great, the mic still works!” The voice echoed through the library, emanating from speakers hidden among the towering bookshelves. It was a woman’s voice, sharp and commanding, yet with a playful undertone that made it hard to ignore.
“Rowan! ROWAN! Can you hear me?” the voice repeated, louder this time.
Rowan sighed, closing the book with a soft thud. “Yes,” he replied, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Good, now come to floor 2.1, will ya?” she said, her tone shifting to one of mock sweetness.
“Coming,” Rowan muttered under his breath. He placed the book back on the shelf, though it felt strangely reluctant to leave his hands. As he turned to make his way to the stairs, something caught his eye. From the corner of his vision, he noticed that the obelisk—a towering, ancient structure that had always stood in the center of the library—was missing. Its absence was jarring, like a gaping hole in the fabric of reality. Rowan paused, staring at the empty space where it should have been.
Before he could process what he was seeing, the voice called out again. “Rowan! ROWAN!” she shouted, her voice now tinged with urgency. Rowan turned to see a figure standing at the base of the stairs, waving frantically. Reluctantly, he walked toward her, his mind still preoccupied with the missing obelisk.
The woman was unlike anyone he had ever seen. She was tall and lithe, with sharp features that seemed both intimidating and alluring. Her hair was a cascade of dark curls, and her eyes glimmered with an intensity that made it hard to look away. She wore a strange outfit—part futuristic, part archaic—that seemed to defy any known fashion sense. Despite her eccentric appearance, Rowan felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as though he had known her for years.
“Okay, I know one thing!” she said, clapping her hands together. “You, sir, currently have a lot of questions on your mind, right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she gestured to the floor beneath them. Suddenly, the ground began to tremble, and the center of the library started to rise. The platform they were standing on ascended rapidly, moving through the countless floors of the library. Rowan’s stomach lurched as they shot upward, the shelves and books blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.
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As they climbed higher, Rowan realized just how massive the library truly was. From the ground, it had seemed like a single, expansive warehouse—perhaps the size of a billionaire’s private collection. But from this vantage point, it was clear that the library was a vertical labyrinth, with floors stacked upon floors, each one brimming with books and artifacts. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming, like a monument to all the knowledge in the universe.
Finally, the platform came to a halt with a loud *thud.* They had reached the rooftop of the library, and the sight that greeted them was breathtaking. The sky above was a swirling canvas of colors—vivid blues, purples, and golds that seemed to pulse with life. The stars twinkled like diamonds, and the air was filled with a strange, ethereal light. It was as though they had stepped into a pocket of the universe frozen in time.
Rowan was so captivated by the view that he almost forgot about the woman standing beside him. She cleared her throat, snapping him out of his reverie. “Okay! We’re here. Now, the questions you have—ask them,” she said, her tone suddenly serious.
Rowan took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. “Okay, first of all, I don’t know you, but I don’t feel strange or unfamiliar around you. How? Second of all, who are you?”
The woman smiled, as though she had been expecting these questions. “Okay, okay! Take it slow. Don’t rush. We have all the time in the world.” She paused, then held up a finger. “First question: Why do you feel safe around me? You feel safe around me because of something I call the perception filter. It’s a device I have attached to the back of my neck that helps me blend in with normal people. People see me, think I’m strange, and then forget me.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “A perception filter? That’s… insane.”
“Insane, but true,” she replied with a wink. “Second question: Who am I? I am what many people call a CRONARCH. Well, you could say I’m the good kind of CRONARCH. The CRONARCHS rule the land of Caldrith with iron fists. They erase timelines that seem useless or irrelevant to them. They shape worlds as they see fit. But I decided against it, so they tried to erase the timeline I’m originally from. Only two people survived and successfully migrated to the new timeline—one is me, and the other is you.”
Rowan stared at her, his mind reeling. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying I’m from another timeline? And you’re a… CRONARCH?”
“Yes,” she said, her expression softening. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
Rowan ran a hand through his hair, trying to process everything. “Okay, so… I think I need a little time to adjust to the things you just dropped on me. But I still have one more question.”
“What?” she asked, tilting her head.
“What is your name? And why was I saved with you?”
The woman smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “My name is Aria Rivest. And I’m your damn wife.”
Rowan’s jaw dropped. “My… wife?”
Aria nodded, her smile widening.
“Surprise.” She said, before putting her finger on his forehead
The rooftop fell silent, save for the faint hum of the universe around them. Rowan stood there, staring at Aria, his mind racing with a thousand questions. But for the first time, he felt a strange sense of clarity. Whatever was happening, whatever this world was, suddenly, he fainted
To be continued…….