The wail stayed in Emilia's ears long after she returned to her cottage. Each creak and groan of the old building seemed exaggerated, and each shadow stretched longer than it should. She sat on the small timber table at the window, peering out into the darkness, the cliffs just visible through the glass. What had Luca assumed? And why did his words strike a chord deep within her?
Sleep eluded Emilia that night, and by morning, she had made up her mind. The library had answers, and she or he planned to find them.
By the time she arrived, the morning fog had only just begun to build, enveloping the city in a light haze. Emilia opened the library's thick doors and stepped inside, the familiar smell of ancient books greeting her like an invitation. But suddenly the air felt different—worried, almost expectant.
She proceeded purposefully through the aisles, her hands running along the spines of volumes until she reached the next nook, where the confined archives resided. The door to the phase remained ajar, a reminder of her uncomfortable encounter with Luca. This time, she was not going to hesitate.
Emilia walked inside after pushing the door completely open. The room became less warm than the rest of the building, the air dense with the smell of dirt and something sharper, metal. Her gaze moved across the shelves, each containing books that appeared to have been neglected for many years. One, in particular, caught her eye. Its leather cowl had split with age, but the faintly engraved insignia on the front seemed strangely familiar. A crescent moon entangled in vines.
She yanked it out, coughing as a cloud of dirt ascended. The hardly discernible name examines the Veil and the Void. Emilia carried it to the little table in the middle of the room, her heart pounding in her chest. The book creaked as she opened it, its pages covered in beautiful handwriting and intricate drawings. The principal bankruptcy became known as The Cursed Coast: Folklore of Raven's Cove.
Her pulse increased as she examined. The city had always been veiled in recollections of inexplicable disappearances, strange lights over the cliffs, and whispers borne by the wind. However, the book went deeper, discussing a historical percentage established long before the town's establishment. A% was bound by blood, shadows, and a guardian who watched over the cliffs. Her hands hovered over a sketch of the cliffs, strikingly similar to where she'd seen Luca the night before. Below it is a name: Blackwood.
The room seemed to close in around her. Could Luca be involved in this? The concept seemed ludicrous, yet the parts clicked into place with uncanny ease. Her thoughts swirled until a sound brought her back to reality. A tiny creak, as if someone's weight was shifting across the floors.
Emilia's head shot up. "What's up?" she asked, her tone rougher than she intended. Silence replied. She stood slowly, her gaze probing the darkness. The door to the archives remained open, but the space beyond it appeared darker than it should have been.
Emilia pushed herself to leave the recordings, gripping the e-book tightly. The main library became empty, but the suffocating stillness persisted, pressing against her skin. She sealed the archive door behind her, slipping the vital item into her pocket before taking a flight to the front table. If someone came here, they were not going to take her off the shield.
Hours passed, and the library was crowded with regular customers. Emilia buried herself in the book, casting eyes at everyone who stayed too long in the aisles. The more she read, the more knotted the city' records became. Mentions of ceremonies performed under starry skies, murmurs of unseen beings, and families chosen to protect the balance between worlds. Each ingredient sent thrills down her spine.
However, the final stretch left her breathless.
The parent must communicate the crescent mark, which is certain to shield the vessel from electricity. If the vessel awakens, the % will crack and the veil will thin, releasing the Void.
The paragraph was accompanied by a sketch of a crescent moon, which is the same sigil embossed on the ebook. Below it, vague shapes of figures stood before a churning abyss. One parent stood back, raising their hand as if to ward off the darkness. The longer she watched, the more Emilia felt the room tilt, like if the shadows on the web page were alive.
She slammed the ebook shut, her breath coming in short spurts. The phrase "vessel of power" kept repeating in her head, like a chorus she couldn't stop hearing. Was it related to her? The concept seemed impossible, but the elements—the whispers, Luca's warnings, and the natural draw she felt toward the cliffs—begged to be true.
A voice interrupted her thoughts. "You're digging in places you shouldn't."
Emilia looked up to see an older man leaning against the bar, his aged face partially concealed by the brim of a hat. He grasped a stack of books and locked his keen blue eyes on her.
"Excuse me?" she said, her voice wavering.
The individual tilted his head, briefly focusing on the closed ebook in front of her. "A few stories are supposed to remain buried, woman. It is best that you recall this truth."
Her pulse quickened. "Do you know what that is?" she asked, placing her palm protectively over the ebook.
He did not offer a direct remedy. Instead, he straightened, his countenance unreadable. "Raven's Cove has a tendency to consume people who ask too many questions. "Be careful not to become one of them."
With that, he turned and walked away, his words dispersing through the air like smoke. Emilia felt uneasy as she watched him vanish into the aisles. She looked down at the book again, her determination outweighing her dread. This was something she needed to see through.
The remainder of the day passed in a blur. Emilia slipped the e-book under her arm as she closed up the library that night. The streets of Raven's Cove have been strangely silent, with fog building as the sun fell below the horizon. She upped her pace, the ebook getting heavier with each step.
As she approached her cottage, she shut the door behind her and pulled the drapes closed. The home felt colder than usual, with quiet weighing down on her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she placed the ebook on the desk and opened it to the final pages.
The final chapter revealed a prophecy: a vessel whose awakening might either restore or destroy stability. The lines blurred in her mind, shards of text merging with her own growing discomfort.
The faint sound of tapping interrupted the silence. Emilia frosted over, her gaze drawn to the window. The tapping returned, this time with greater intensity. She cautiously rose, her heart pounding as she approached the curtain. She snatched it away with a trembling hand.
Not anything. Fog pressed against the window, dense and impenetrable. She let out a weak giggle, chastising herself for being neurotic. However, as she grew further away, the tapping persisted, this time from the door.
Her breath became caught. This was not her imagination. Someone — or something — became available.
Emilia approached the door, holding the ebook. "Who's there?" she inquired, her voice trembling. Silence replied.
She grabbed for the handle, her palms brushing against the cold metal as a low and harsh voice murmured from the other side.
"You shouldn't have opened that ebook."
Emilia's blood was bloodless. She staggered back, the e-book tumbling out of her drawer and dropping with a bang. The door rocked, as if someone—or something—on the other side was testing its strength.
Before she could react, the sound stopped. The air grew, and the suffocating silence returned with a fury. Emilia stood still, her mind racing. The e-book lay open on the ground, its pages expanding to form a comic strip depicting the whirling abyss.
A new mark appeared in the c
enter of the drawing—a crescent moon that sparkled slightly, as if alive.