The library had always been my sanctuary. The quiet, the smell of ancient tomes, and the gentle light filtering through the high windows—it was peaceful, predictable. And then there was Nyx, the young master of the Shadowstar family, who disrupted that peace in the most endearing way possible.
I had been sitting at my usual spot, dusting off a particularly old manuscript, when I heard the soft patter of small footsteps. I turned to see the little boy standing at the entrance, looking around with wide, curious eyes. It was rare for anyone to wander into the library by accident, especially a child as young as him. I couldn't help but smile.
"Where are you going, young master?" I called out gently, hoping not to startle him.
He blinked up at me, his dark eyes filled with wonder and innocence. "I'm just roaming, Grandpa," he said without hesitation.
I chuckled softly. "Young master, don't call me grandpa. My name is Ian, your librarian."
"Okay, Grandpa Ian," he replied, and his grin was so cheeky that I couldn't bring myself to correct him again. The boy was sharp, more aware than most children his age. That much was obvious. But there was something else about him, something in the way he observed the world.
As he wandered through the shelves, his tiny fingers running along the spines of old books, I asked, "Do you want to read something, young master?"
His eyes lit up. "Yes!"
I led him to my chair and retrieved one of the children's books his mother had often read to him and his twin, Astor. But when I returned and handed it to him, he stared at it with mild frustration.
"Grandpa Ian, I already know that book. Mother teaches us from it all the time. Do you have something else?"
The boy's request surprised me. Most children would have happily accepted a familiar story, but Nyx was different. He was looking for something more—something challenging. I paused for a moment, then gestured for him to follow me.
We walked through the rows of shelves, passing the children's section. His little feet kept up with mine, and I couldn't help but smile at how determined he was. I showed him the various titles meant for his age, but he didn't seem interested. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it—the Zephyros section.
He stopped suddenly, his face lighting up with excitement. "Isn't that the name of our world?" he asked.
I was taken aback. Most children his age wouldn't even recognize that name, let alone express such curiosity. "Yes, young master. That section holds the history and mysteries of Zephyros."
"Let's go there!" he exclaimed, and before I could say anything, he marched straight toward it. His confidence was striking for someone so small, but it was also endearing. I followed him, amused.
He pulled out a large, old book titled Zephyros: Realms of Magic and Mysteries and stared at it with fascination. I frowned slightly, concerned. "Young master, isn't this book too advanced for someone your age?"
He didn't even hesitate. "No, I can understand it."
His certainty was disarming. I couldn't argue with him, not when he looked at me with those determined eyes. So, I let him take the book. I watched as he climbed into a nearby chair, opening the book with a seriousness that didn't match his age. He was truly remarkable.
For the next while, I watched him read, completely absorbed in the pages. His little brow furrowed as he processed the words, his lips moving slightly as he read silently to himself. I had never seen a child so young show such focus. It reminded me of how his grandfather, Duke Alarion, had been at that age—serious, determined, always striving to learn more.
As I observed Nyx, I couldn't help but wonder what went on in his mind. He seemed far older than his two years, as though he carried a wisdom that didn't belong to a child. And yet, there was still that glimmer of innocence in his eyes, that spark of curiosity that made me smile.
Eventually, the quiet was broken by the creak of the library door. A caretaker entered, looking slightly winded, no doubt from searching for the young master. She sighed in relief when she found him sitting in the library, of all places.
"Young master Nyx, it's time to return to your room," she said gently.
Nyx sighed, closing the book reluctantly. I could see the disappointment in his eyes as he slid down from the chair. I almost felt bad for him—having to leave the wonders of the library behind to return to the mundane routine of a two-year-old's life. He carefully placed the book back on the shelf where he had found it, already eyeing it like he would return the moment he could.
"Goodbye, Grandpa Ian," he said, smiling at me one last time before leaving with the caretaker.
"Goodbye, young master," I replied warmly, watching him leave.
As the door closed behind him, I returned to my seat, my thoughts still on the little boy who was so much more than he seemed. In all my years as the Shadowstar family's librarian, I had never encountered a child quite like Nyx. There was something special about him—something beyond the ordinary.
I had a feeling that Nyx Shadowstar, despite his age, would grow up to be someone extraordinary.