The first thing I noticed as my eyes fluttered open was the light—shiny, almost blinding. Groaning softly, I raised an arm to shield my face. My throat felt parched, and the chilly air that seeped into my lungs triggered a fit of coughing. Disoriented, I forced myself upright, blinking away the haze.
My breath caught as I took in my surroundings. The room was unfamiliar yet majestic, every detail exuding luxury. Gold patterns adorned the walls, intricate designs I couldn't decipher. Rich, flowing curtains framed large windows, the fabric finer than anything I had ever seen. This wasn't Gaiadom. It couldn't be.
As much as I wanted to sink back into the softest bed I'd ever lain on, unease gnawed at me. I swung my legs over the edge and noticed my attire—a white, long-sleeved dress resembling the kind of sleepwear reserved for the wealthy. Someone had changed my clothes.
Barefoot, I moved cautiously across the plush carpet, pushing open the grand doors. A gust of wind greeted me, and before me stretched a long, opulent hallway.
I didn't linger to admire the place; my instincts screamed at me to move. The further I walked, the more questions gnawed at my mind. Finally, I reached another enormous door at the end of the corridor. Placing a hesitant hand on the handle, I pushed it open just enough to peek inside.
What I saw stole my breath. A massive library stretched before me, its shelves overflowing with thousands of books. The air smelled of parchment and age, a calming yet overwhelming scent.
Then, I noticed him. A man stood near one of the towering shelves, his back to me, focused on the books. He wore a long, elegant robe that brushed the floor, and his neatly cut gray hair shone in the light streaming through the windows.
"You're welcome to come in, child. Don't just linger there," he said, his voice warm and steady.
Startled, I froze. The door swung open wider, as though by magic, leaving me with no choice but to step inside. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my dress as I watched him turn.
He appeared to be In his late forties or early fifties, with deep blue eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of an ocean. His aura was warm, filling the vast library with an Inexplicable comfort.
"Where am I?" I finally managed to ask, my voice unsteady.
"The Hall of Aeons," he replied simply, gesturing to a nearby chair.
I only took a few steps before stopping, my gaze drawn to the window. Outside, a grand fountain cascaded like a waterfall, surrounded by a sprawling garden bursting with life and color. It looked surreal.
"Is that supposed to be there?" I asked, pointing toward the scene, my confusion evident.
The man chuckled softly, setting a book down on a nearby table. "Yes, child. It's meant to be there. Now, come, have a seat. We have much to discuss."
I reluctantly turned from the mesmerizing view, questions swirling in my mind. "This isn't Gaiadom, is it?"
"No," he answered, his tone patient. "You're very far from your homeland now. Do you remember anything?"
Memories hit me like a wave. Lukas coming to me, frantic, the stolen artifact glowing faintly in my hand. The strangers—Orion, Sierra, and Calen—and those creatures of shadow. My chest tightened as the weight of it all came rushing back.
"What's going to happen to me now? Am I…am I going to prison?" My voice cracked, and my knees wobbled under the weight of fear.
"You were brought here to be questioned," he said, his expression calm yet serious. "Tell the truth, and you may yet be spared."
"What truth? I don't even know what I'm supposed to have done!" My desperation seeped into my words.
"Do you know what you took? Where it came from? Or who it was meant for?"
The atmosphere thickened, each question hitting me like a blow. I struggled to breathe, my mind racing. How could I answer when I didn't know the answers myself?
"I…I don't know," I stammered, sweat beading on my brow.
He studied me for a moment, then sighed. "Of course, you don't. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been so reckless."
His gaze hardened. "But you didn't act alone, did you? Someone put you up to this."
I flinched, my pale face betraying my thoughts.
"Listen, child. What you took is no ordinary object. It's far more dangerous than you realize, and the truth of its origin is critical. If you wish to leave here, you must cooperate."
I shook my head frantically. "I swear, I don't know anything. Please, let me go. I can't tell you what I don't know!"
His eyes narrowed, then softened as he seemed to read the sincerity in my voice. "If that's true, then you may not be the one who holds the answers."
He stepped closer, studying me intently. I froze as his gaze seemed to pierce through me.
"Hmm. Interesting. It's as though there's a veil over your thoughts, much like what Calen must have sensed. That's likely why the Elites brought you here."
"Elites?"
"The ones who retrieved you last night," he said, his voice calm.
I watched as he poured tea into two cups, the rich aroma briefly soothing my nerves. He handed me a cup and gestured for me to sit. Grateful for a moment of reprieve, I sipped the tea, its warmth easing my dry throat.
But my calm shattered when he placed his cup down and locked eyes with me.
"Who are you protecting, child?"
My grip on the cup tightened, my breath quickening. "I—I don't know what you mean, sir."
"You may call me Atticus," he said kindly before his expression grew serious once more. "You're shielding someone, aren't you? I understand why. He must be important to you. But this isn't just about what he did—it's about what he took. This is a grave matter, and we cannot take it lightly."
No…Lukas.