Aiden sat frozen in his chair, staring at the journal in his hands, his pulse quickening with every word from the entry he'd just read. The portal. It was right there, hidden in plain sight in the library, beneath the floor. His mind raced back to that strange, hollow sound he had heard when the book fell just days before. It wasn’t his imagination. It was real. His grandfather had written about it.
And at that moment, he didn’t really feel the absurdity of it all.
In an instant, Aiden shot up from the chair, heart pounding in his chest. He had to see it for himself. He had to know.
“Come on, Charlie,” he said, running toward the library, his voice thick with urgency. Behind him, Charlie barked, startled but eager, his paws pattering against the wooden floors as he followed Aiden down the hall.
When they reached the library, Aiden dropped to his knees on the very spot where the book had fallen, his hands pressing against the wooden floor. He knocked lightly, and there it was again—that unmistakable hollow sound, like something was waiting beneath.
His breath caught in his throat as he scrambled to move the nearby shelves out of the way, his fingers working feverishly to clear the space. One by one, he pushed the bookshelves aside, revealing the dusty old carpet that stretched across the floor.
Charlie paced beside him, barking in excitement, his energy mirroring Aiden’s own.
“Hang on, Charlie,” Aiden whispered, more to himself than to the dog. His hands gripped the edge of the rug, and with one firm pull, he yanked it back, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
And there it was.
A large, ornate trapdoor, set into the wooden floor beneath where the shelves had stood. The door was unlike anything Aiden had ever seen—it wasn’t just a simple wooden hatch. It was intricately designed, with swirling, embossed patterns carved deep into the surface, like flowing waves of water, twisting and turning in a way that almost seemed alive. In the center, a large circular design stood out, with symbols etched around its edges, symbols Aiden couldn’t quite understand but felt connected to something ancient.
He knelt there for a moment, staring at the door, his fingers tracing the embossed designs. His heartbeat quickened with every touch. This is it, he thought. The portal to the Castle of Wisdom.
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Excitement and curiosity surged through him, but there was also something else—a flicker of fear. What lay beyond this door? What had his grandfather hidden down there for all these years? He swallowed, pushing the fear aside. He had come this far, and there was no turning back now.
With trembling hands, Aiden gripped the iron ring in the center of the door and pulled. It was heavy, but it gave way with a low groan, revealing the entrance to a set of stone stairs. For a moment, Aiden thought it would be pitch dark down there, but to his surprise, the staircase was bathed in soft, glowing light. He blinked, confused.
There were no visible light sources—no torches, no lamps—but the stairs themselves seemed to be faintly illuminated, as if the stone was emitting a gentle glow. The light was warm and welcoming, and though it was strange, it didn’t feel threatening. It felt... right, somehow.
Charlie barked again, his tail wagging furiously as he sniffed the air around the open trapdoor.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Aiden whispered to himself, his voice shaky with anticipation.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the first stair, his heart pounding as he descended into the unknown. The stone beneath his feet felt solid and cool, and as he moved deeper, the air around him grew still. The walls of the staircase were smooth and ancient, their surfaces worn by time, yet there wasn’t a single mark or blemish that suggested decay.
Aiden’s footsteps echoed softly as he continued down, each step measured, each movement deliberate. The glow of the stairs guided his way, casting long shadows that danced along the narrow corridor. Charlie followed close behind, his small paws barely making a sound as he padded down beside Aiden.
After what felt like an eternity, the stairs came to an end, and Aiden found himself standing at the mouth of a long, straight path. The corridor stretched out before him, its walls made of the same glowing stone. It was a smooth, flat surface, and as he stepped onto it, the sound of his footsteps shifted, the hollow echoes replaced by the soft thud of stone on stone.
He walked forward, his heart racing, each step carrying him further into the unknown. The corridor seemed endless, a straight path with no turns or deviations. The glow of the stone lit the way, but there was still no visible light source—just the steady, gentle illumination that surrounded him.
For ten minutes, Aiden walked, his mind swirling with questions and wonder. What lay at the end of this path? What was the Castle of Wisdom, really? He had no idea what to expect, but his grandfather had believed in it so strongly, and had protected it for so many years. Aiden felt a strange sense of responsibility, a pull toward whatever lay ahead.
And then, suddenly, the corridor opened up.
Aiden froze, his breath catching in his throat. Before him, wide and impossibly vast, were shelves. Shelves upon shelves of books, stretching as far as his eyes could see.