The library is deathly still as I follow behind her.
Hanging lights cast shadows that seem too deep, too alive. Books and scrolls surround us like silent witnesses, their forgotten knowledge as impenetrable as the air clinging to my skin. I have spent hours here, searching for answers, but now I realize I have been blind to the one with the truth.
Binah.
She moves, stepping lightly into the space behind one of the shelves, her white hair catching the dim light. My chest tightens as she reaches out and presses her hand to the wall, her fingers trailing over the surface as though reading invisible glyphs.
The wall shifts.
I cannot describe it any other way. The stone itself seems to sigh, rippling outward before splitting apart with a low groan. Dust spills from the edges, caught in the faint light as the hidden door reveals itself. A cold wind flows out from the darkness beyond, carrying with it the faintest trace of decay and something else—something sharp and electric, like the charge before a storm.
Binah steps back and looks at me. Her gaze is steady, patient, but there is something in the tilt of her head, the subtle rise of her chin. A challenge.
I do not move.
"What?" I say, my voice harsher than I intended. My heart is pounding, a rapid staccato that I struggle to quiet. "You cannot expect me to … not without an explanation."
She does not answer. Of course she does not answer. Her silence is her only constant, and it grates against my fraying nerves. Still, she waits, her figure framed by the dark portal, the abyss calling to me like a whispered threat.
I take a step forward, then stop.
My fingers clench into fists.
Doubt floods me, mingling with the loss I have been trying to bury since the First Baptism. My temporal sight is gone. The future I used to glimpse, the paths I could weigh and consider, are closed to me now. Binah is all I have left of it, this strange and maddening embodiment of my semblance.
But she does not feel like mine.
Her lips curve into a wicked little smile. Then she is gone, dashing through the opening.
I close my eyes, forcing a deep breath. The air tastes of parchment and stone, grounded and real. When I open my eyes, she is still not there.
"Wait," I say, though my voice shakes.
I glance back at the books, their spines etched with knowledge I could not decipher, and wonder if the truth I seek lies buried beyond this portal—or if it will bury me instead.
The first step is the hardest. The dark swallows me as I cross the threshold, the faint light of the library vanishing behind me. My fingers brush against the stone walls, cold and damp beneath my touch, as the passage narrows around me. The air grows heavier, thick with an ancient weight that presses against my senses. My breaths come shallow and quick, echoing back to me in the oppressive silence.
Binah walks ahead, her pale figure barely visible in the gloom.
Her steps make no sound, her presence both a guide and a taunt. I want to speak, to demand answers, but the words die in my throat. The deeper we go, the more the air changes, the faint metallic scent giving way to something sharper, almost acrid.
The corridor twists and dips, narrowing so sharply that my shoulders almost brush the walls. My fingers trail along the damp stone, seeking reassurance in the cold solidity of the path. Then I see it—a hallway splitting off from the main passage, sloping sharply downward.
It draws me in an instant. The walls of the hallway shimmer faintly, their surface shifting like water caught in the moonlight. A low hum vibrates through the air, barely audible but strong enough to tingle in my bones. The air smells different here, sharper, heavier. I take a step toward it, my pulse quickening.
"Binah," I murmur, but she is silent behind me.
I glance back to find her standing motionless, her head tilted ever so slightly. Her violet eyes catch the faint light of the passage, glinting like polished glass. She does not stop me, nor does she step aside. She simply watches.
The hallway seems to beckon. It curves downward, vanishing into shadow, but there is something in the way it feels—something familiar and foreign at once.
The air shifts.
It is subtle at first, like the faintest hum at the edge of hearing. I stop, one foot poised above the sloping floor of the strange hallway, and the sound swells—a melody, low and mournful, threading through the stone like veins of light.
It is beautiful.
No, it is more than that. It calls to something inside me, something buried deep, tangled in the roots of my being. The notes rise and fall in an impossible harmony, each one brushing against the edges of thought, teasing at half-formed memories. It feels ancient and alive, as if the song has always been here, waiting to be heard.
I take another step toward the hallway, drawn by the sound. The floor slopes downward into darkness. The melody grows louder, but it is not coming from one direction. It is everywhere and nowhere—emanating from the hallway ahead and the hollow space inside my chest at once.
My pulse quickens. The song is not just a sound. It is a presence, vast and overwhelming, pressing against the edges of my thoughts. I feel its weight as surely as I feel the air in my lungs, the cold stone beneath my feet. It whispers of ruin, of something broken and forgotten, and yet it does not frighten me. It fills me.
My hand brushes the wall as I lean forward, my breath catching. The hum in the air shifts, sharpening, resonating through the core of my being. My fingers twitch against the stone, the rhythm pulling at me, demanding that I step closer. I do not know what lies at the end of this hallway, but I feel its pull as surely as gravity.
Eater.
The impact catches me before I even realize Binah has moved.
Pain explodes across my jaw, snapping my head to the side. The blow sends me stumbling back, and I slam into the wall, the sharp bite of stone cutting through the haze. I clutch at my face, my breath ragged as I blink away the stars dancing across my vision.
"What the—" I start, but the words die as I look up.
Binah stands before me, her pale figure framed by the faint glow of the hallway behind her. Her fist is still clenched, her knuckles faintly pink from the strike. Her violet eyes burn, sharp and unyielding, and for a moment, I see something in them I have never seen before. Not anger. Something colder. Absolute.
She does not wait for me to recover. She steps between me and the hallway, her movements deliberate, cutting off my view of the shimmering walls. Her head tilts slightly, the gesture quiet but commanding, and she raises one hand, pointing down the main passage we had been following.
My chest heaves as I straighten, the song fading from my mind like a dream slipping through tiny fingers. The hum in the air lingers, faint and teasing, but Binah's presence eclipses it. Her gaze is fixed on me, sharp as a blade, and I know with a sudden, sinking certainty that she will not let me pass.
I glance past her, my heart aching as I catch one last glimpse of the sloping hallway. The light flickers faintly, the melody almost imperceptible now, but it tugs at me still. I can feel it fading, pulling away like a tide retreating from the shore. My hands clench into fists, the ache in my jaw forgotten as I fight the urge to push past her.
But Binah does not move. Her silence is a wall, impenetrable and absolute. Her outstretched hand is a command I cannot defy.
With a sharp breath, I turn away, the weight of her gaze pressing into my back as I step toward the main passage. The melody is gone now, swallowed by the heavy stillness of the stone. But its echo lingers, a faint thread of loss twining through my thoughts.
I glance over my shoulder once, catching a glimpse of Binah standing motionless before the hallway, her figure a pale shadow against the faint shimmer of light. Then I turn back and walk into the dark.