The massive double doors loomed before Aeon, their ornately carved wood polished to a deep shine. Intricate symbols, seemingly glowing with an inner light, adorned the surface, hinting at the knowledge that lay hidden within. Aeon traced a finger along the cool surface, his heart pounding with anticipation. This was the Walker family library, a treasure trove waiting to be explored.
He glanced at Rossy, who stood beside him with a knowing smile. "Nervous, Young Master Aeon?"
Aeon shook his head, but a tinge of red colored his cheeks. "Not nervous, exactly," he admitted. "More like… excited."
Rosy chuckled. "Excitement is certainly appropriate. This library holds knowledge on countless subjects, accumulated over generations. From history and philosophy to the lore of mystical creatures, you'll find it all within these walls."
Aeon took a deep breath and reached out, his hand hovering over the ornately carved handle. "Ready, then?" Rossy asked encouragingly.
Taking a steadying breath, Aeon pushed the door open with a gentle creak. A gasp escaped his lips as the massive doors swung silently inwards, revealing a sight that took his breath away.
The library was vast, stretching seemingly endlessly before him. Sunlight streamed through high, arched windows, casting a warm glow on the endless rows of bookshelves that lined the walls. Floor-to-ceiling, they groaned under the weight of countless leather-bound tomes, their spines adorned with intricate lettering and faded symbols in a language Aeon didn't recognize.
The air itself held a distinct scent – a blend of aged paper, leather, and perhaps a hint of something else – an ancient magic that whispered of forgotten lore and untold stories. The silence was profound, broken only by the soft scratching of a quill on parchment from a distant corner.
Aeon turned to Rossy, his eyes wide with wonder. "This is incredible," he breathed.
Rosy smiled warmly. "Indeed it is. Unfortunately, I have other duties that call me away. However, feel free to explore at your leisure. The library is yours to discover."
A slight pang of disappointment flickered in Aeon's chest. He would have loved to have Rossy guide him through this labyrinth of knowledge, but he understood.
"Don't worry, Rossy," he said, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine on my own. Thank you for bringing me here."
"Of course, Young Master Aeon," Rossy replied, her voice gentle. "If you need anything at all, simply ring the bell by the entrance. I'll be happy to help."
With a final nod, Rossy turned and left, leaving Aeon standing alone at the threshold of this magnificent library. He took a deep breath, the vastness of the space both daunting and exhilarating.
Taking a tentative step forward, Aeon began his exploration. The smooth stone floor felt cool beneath his bare feet as he weaved between the towering shelves. He marveled at the sheer variety of books – some thick and imposing, others small and worn with age. Titles in an unfamiliar language peeked out from the shelves, each one a tantalizing glimpse into an unknown world.
He paused before a section filled with hefty tomes bound in thick leather. Embossed on the covers were images of fantastical creatures – towering beasts with razor-sharp claws, winged serpents with eyes that gleamed like embers, and lumbering giants with skin like living stone. A thrill of excitement coursed through him. These were the "Compendium of Mythical Beasts," a detailed account of the legendary creatures that roamed the world beyond the manor walls.
He pulled out one of the volumes, its weight surprising him. As he opened it, the musty scent of aged paper filled his nostrils. The pages were filled with detailed illustrations and meticulously written descriptions. He spent a good hour engrossed in the book, learning about the fearsome Wyvern, the elusive Moon Shadow Wolf, and the wise and benevolent Treant guardians of the forests.
Next, he found himself drawn to a section labeled "Herbal Lore." These books contained detailed descriptions of various plants, their medicinal properties, and their uses in concocting healing remedies. He learned about the potent Bloodroot flower, known for its ability to stop bleeding, the calming Moonleaf used to soothe anxiety, and the rare Ginseng root, said to possess life-extending properties.
He moved on, his curiosity insatiable. He found himself engrossed in books on geography, learning about the vast continents and the diverse cultures that inhabited them. He pored over maps depicting sprawling jungles, towering mountain ranges, and glistening oceans that stretched to the horizon.
As the morning wore on, Aeon became lost in the world of knowledge spread before him. He devoured book after book, his mind brimming with newfound information. He learned about the history of the Walker family, their rise from humble beginnings to their current position.
Not knowing how much passed, a satisfied sigh escaped Aeon's lips as he snapped the final book on the table shut. The afternoon sun, now past its zenith, cast long shadows through the library windows, painting the endless rows of bookshelves in a warm, golden light. He had spent hours immersed in a world of knowledge, his mind a sponge soaking up information like a parched earth absorbing rain.
He stretched, a pleasant ache settling in his muscles. Looking around the vast library, Aeon realized the enormity of the task before him. This ocean of knowledge would take more than a single day, or even a week, to fully comprehend. He had barely scratched the surface, yet his mind buzzed with a delightful exhaustion.
With a newfound respect for the library's vastness, Aeon carefully returned the books to their rightful places. He ran his fingers along the worn spines, each book a portal to another world, another perspective. A pang of longing twisted within him. He had hoped to find something on alchemy or inscription formations, subjects he'd encountered in his past life's books. But alas, the library seemed to hold no such secrets, at least not in the sections he had explored.
Perhaps these were more advanced topics, reserved for a select few within the Walker family. He would have to ask his mother about it later. Right now, though, his brain felt full to bursting. He needed a change of pace, a break from the mental marathon he had just endured.
Stepping out of the library, Aeon emerged into the warm embrace of the afternoon sun. It hung high in the sky, a solitary sovereign ruling the vast blue expanse. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air. His eyes scanned the sprawling grounds of the Walker manor, searching for something, anything, to break the monotony of his studies.
Suddenly, a loud yell shattered the serenity. It was followed by the unmistakable clash of steel on steel. Curiosity piqued, Aeon followed the sound, his steps quickening with each passing moment. He soon found himself at the edge of a large training ground, enclosed by a sturdy wooden fence. A group of children, seemingly ranging from ten to twelve years old, were engaged in a fierce but controlled sparring session.
Two boys, their faces flushed with exertion, were locked in a mock duel. One, with a mop of unruly black hair, wielded a wooden practice sword with surprising agility. His opponent, taller and broader, countered each attack with a measured defense, his own wooden weapon glinting in the sunlight.
They moved with a practiced grace, their movements reflecting years of training. Their strikes were powerful yet controlled, each blow meant to test their opponent's skill rather than inflict harm. As Aeon watched, a sense of awe washed over him. This was the first time he had witnessed combat firsthand, and it was far more impressive than anything he'd read about in the library.
The combatants exchanged blows, their grunts echoing across the training ground. The black-haired boy lunged forward, aiming a powerful overhead strike. But the taller boy anticipated the attack, ducking beneath the blow and launching a counterattack of his own. His wooden sword whistled through the air, narrowly missing the other's head.
The black-haired boy stumbled back, momentarily caught off guard. He recovered quickly, however, and launched into a series of rapid attacks, a flurry of movement that forced his opponent on the defensive. The crowd of children surrounding the arena cheered, their voices a cacophony of encouragement and friendly taunts.
The fight continued for several more minutes, a display of both strength and skill. Finally, the taller boy found an opening. He delivered a swift kick, sending the black-haired boy sprawling onto the soft sand of the training ground.
The victor raised his wooden sword in the air, a triumphant grin splitting his face. The crowd erupted in cheers, congratulating both boys on their performance. The defeated boy, despite his loss, wore a grin just as wide. They helped each other to their feet, a sense of camaraderie evident between them.
Aeon watched as the sparring session ended, the other children dispersing, their laughter and excited chatter filling the air. A spark of hope ignited within him. These children, not much older than himself, were already so adept at combat. It fueled a newfound determination in Aeon.
He envisioned himself one day standing in that arena, wielding a sword with confidence and skill. The dream of becoming a powerful cultivator, which had felt distant and abstract before, now seemed within reach. With dedication and hard work, perhaps he too could become a formidable warrior like the boys he had just witnessed.
Leaving the training ground behind, Aeon set off towards his mother's residence. The image of the sparring children, their youthful exuberance and fierce determination, filled his mind. He couldn't wait to tell his mother about the library, his discoveries, and his burgeoning desire to learn the art