Aiden stared at the page, reading the last few lines of his grandfather’s diary over and over. The words felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s life—a life filled with cryptic references to magic, rituals, and something called “The Veil.” It didn’t make sense to him. He had grown up around these stories, sure, but seeing it written down so plainly, as if it were fact, made him feel… strange.
He leaned back against the couch, holding the diary in his hands, his eyes scanning the handwriting once more. His grandfather had written about the library as if it were alive, a sentient thing that revealed secrets when it wanted to. It all felt so far removed from the man Aiden had known—the quiet, thoughtful man who always had a book in his hands but never talked much about the things he believed in.
Magic? A Veil? Aiden rubbed his temples, feeling a growing sense of frustration. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was all a little too ridiculous. He had come here expecting to learn something more concrete about his inheritance, maybe even some quirky stories about his grandfather’s past, but this… this felt like fantasy.
And who the hell were Lyra and Thalia and why hadn’t grandfather never talked about it?
With a sigh, he snapped the diary shut and placed it on the table. The entry was interesting, sure, but it raised more questions than answers. Maybe he wasn’t ready to deal with all of this just yet. It had been a long day, and the weight of everything was starting to settle on him. The house, the memories, the uncertainty—it was all a bit much to handle at once.
Standing up, he stretched, his body aching from the drive and the tension of the day. The dog, now clean and comfortable, was lying contentedly on the couch, its small body curled up in a tight ball. Aiden smiled down at it.
“Well, I guess it’s time for bed, huh?” he said softly.
He walked upstairs to the room he used to sleep in as a kid during his summer visits. The room hadn’t changed much over the years. The wallpaper was still the same faded blue, and the old wooden bed frame creaked under his weight as he sat down on the edge. A small desk sat against the wall, covered in dust, and the single window overlooked the garden, where moonlight bathed the overgrown shrubs in a pale glow.
It was comforting, in a way, to be back in this space. The room smelled faintly of cedar, just like it always had. Aiden kicked off his shoes and pulled the blankets over himself, settling into the bed. As he lay there, the dog padded into the room, its little paws barely making a sound on the wooden floor. Without hesitation, it hopped onto the bed and nestled beside him, its warm body pressing against his leg.
Aiden chuckled. “Alright, you can stay.”
The dog gave a contented sigh, and within minutes, its small form had relaxed into sleep. Aiden, too, felt the weight of the day pulling him under, and soon, the quiet stillness of the house lulled him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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The next morning, Aiden woke to the sound of soft whining. He blinked, the early morning light streaming through the window, casting long shadows across the room. The dog was already awake, sitting beside the bed and staring at him expectantly.
“Morning,” Aiden muttered, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He sat up, realizing he was starving. He hadn’t eaten anything since the chips the night before.
His stomach growled as he made his way to the kitchen, the dog following close behind. But as he rummaged through the cupboards, his hopes of finding something substantial quickly faded. Oatmeal. That’s all he had. A grimace spread across his face.
“Of course,” he muttered, shaking his head. His grandfather’s love for oatmeal was legendary, but Aiden had never developed a taste for it. He opened the fridge, hoping to find something more appetizing, but it was practically empty—just a bottle of mustard, a carton of eggs that had seen better days, and some expired yogurt.
“Looks like we need to go shopping, buddy,” he said, turning to the dog, who was sitting expectantly by his side. “I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”
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The dog whined softly, clearly not pleased with the idea of being left behind.
“I know, I know,” Aiden said, crouching down to give it a reassuring pat on the head. “But I need to grab some real food. You’ll be fine here.”
The dog stared up at him, unimpressed, but Aiden went ahead and filled a bowl with food and water, setting them near the couch.
“See? You’ve got everything you need. I’ll be back before you know it.”
The dog, still unconvinced, watched him with a mournful gaze as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, closing it softly behind him.
The grocery store wasn’t far, and Aiden was grateful for the quiet morning drive. His mind wandered back to the diary, and the strange things his grandfather had written. As much as he wanted to brush it off, the words lingered in his mind. What had his grandfather been searching for all those years? And why had he been so cryptic about it?
As he wandered the aisles, grabbing vegetables, eggs, and a few staple items, his thoughts drifted, his body on autopilot. He wasn’t paying attention when he rounded the corner of the store’s produce section and nearly collided with someone.
“Oh, sorry—” he started, but the words caught in his throat when he realized who he had bumped into.
It was her. Emily. His college crush. The one he had never quite managed to approach. She stood there, looking just as radiant as he remembered, though something felt different now. Her curly hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, framing her face in that familiar way, but there was a ring on her finger that hadn’t been there before.
“Aiden?” she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and something else—maybe curiosity, maybe awkwardness. “Wow, is that really you?”
“Uh... yeah,” Aiden stammered, his mind blanking. “Yeah, uh... Emily, right? Hi.”
They stood there for a moment, both of them clearly unsure of what to say next. The awkward tension between them was palpable, and Aiden could feel the heat rushing to his face. He hadn’t seen her in years, and of all places to bump into her, a grocery store in his grandfather’s town felt like a strange coincidence—almost too strange.
Emily smiled, but it was a little strained, like she wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation either. “Wow, it’s been... forever. What are you doing here? I didn’t think you still lived around here.”
“I don’t, uh... I don’t,” Aiden said, fumbling with the carton of eggs in his hand. “Just... you know, family stuff. My grandpa’s house. In town. I mean, not in town, but, like, near town.”
Emily blinked, clearly trying to follow his rambling. “Oh, right. I remember you mentioning your grandfather once or twice.”
Aiden nodded too quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Yeah, he... he passed. Recently. So, I’m kind of... moving into his house.”
Her expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must be tough.” She paused, glancing down at her shopping cart before looking back up at him. “I’m actually here with my husband. We moved here a couple of years ago.”
Her husband. There it was—the confirmation he’d been half expecting but still not quite prepared for. Aiden managed a tight smile, though inside he felt like he’d just missed a step on a staircase. “Oh, yeah. Right. That’s... that’s great. Congrats.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling awkwardly as she shifted on her feet. “It’s been... really nice, actually. We love it here. It’s quiet, you know?”
Aiden nodded again, trying to figure out what to say next. His mind raced, but nothing seemed to land. “Yeah, quiet’s good. Good for... thinking. And other stuff.”
Emily let out a small laugh, though it sounded more like a polite courtesy than genuine amusement. “Yeah, definitely. Well, it’s really good to see you. It’s funny how small the world is, huh?”
“Yeah. Small. Totally,” Aiden said, his voice a little too loud. He winced inwardly. “Maybe I’ll, uh... see you around? Or not, I mean—if you’re busy. With your husband.”
Emily’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. “Sure, maybe. Take care, Aiden.”
“Yeah, you too,” he said, feeling the conversation slip further into awkward territory with each passing second.
She gave him a final nod before turning down the next aisle, leaving Aiden standing there with his carton of eggs and a strange mix of embarrassment and relief swirling in his chest.
That was a disaster.
When Aiden returned to the house, his arms full of grocery bags, he was greeted by an unexpected sight.
The dog, sitting in the middle of the living room, looked up at him innocently. But beside it was a torn-up cushion, the stuffing scattered across the floor like freshly fallen snow.
Aiden’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. “Seriously?” he said, setting the groceries down and looking at the dog, who was now wagging its tail as if nothing was wrong.
The dog tilted its head, seemingly pleased with itself.
Aiden sighed, shaking his head. “I guess I should’ve seen that coming.”