Kael trailed behind Elyra, his boots clicking softly against the polished stone floor of the Eclipsed Archive. The air smelled like old parchment and something sweet—vanilla, maybe, or honey. He couldn't quite place it. The shelves around them stretched impossibly high, crammed with books of every size and color. Some shimmered faintly, their covers shifting as if alive. Others hummed softly, like the purr of a contented cat. It was the kind of place that made you feel small, not just in size but in time. Like the archive had been here forever and would remain long after he was gone.
"So," Kael began, breaking the silence, "this archive… it's alive?"
Elyra glanced over her shoulder, her sharp green eyes glinting with amusement. Her silver hair, long and smooth, caught the light as she moved, and the faint points of her ears peeked out from beneath it. She wore a simple robe the color of aged parchment, and in her hands was a book that glowed faintly, its cover pulsing like a heartbeat.
"In a manner of speaking," she replied, her tone casual but thoughtful. "It's sentient, yeah. It kind of… decides who gets to come in and what they get to see. Think of it like a really picky librarian."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "And it chose me? Why?"
Elyra shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Beats me. Maybe it likes your face. Or maybe it's just in a good mood today."
Kael blinked. "That's it? No grand explanation about destiny or whatever?"
Elyra chuckled, a light, melodic sound. "Destiny's overrated. Sometimes things just happen. Besides, if the archive let you in, there's probably a reason. We'll figure it out as we go."
Before Kael could respond, a small, flickering shape darted across his vision. He jumped, nearly dropping the glowing book he'd been clutching since they left the alcove. The shape resolved into a tiny creature made of swirling ink and parchment, its glowing eyes fixed on him with unnerving curiosity.
"What—what is that?" Kael stammered, pointing at the creature.
"An Inking," Elyra said, her voice casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "They're the archive's little helpers. This one seems to like you."
The Inking chirped, a sound like rustling pages, and floated closer to Kael. It reached out a tiny, ink-blotted hand, as if to touch him, but Kael leaned away.
"Uh, nice Inking," he said nervously. "Good Inking."
Elyra smirked. "Relax. They're harmless. Mostly. Just don't piss them off, and you'll be fine."
Kael wasn't so sure. The Inking's glowing eyes were unnerving, and its grin was just a little too sharp for comfort. But before he could say anything, Elyra turned and continued down the aisle, her robe sweeping the floor.
"Come on," she said over her shoulder. "We've got work to do."
Kael hurried after her, the Inking flitting along beside him. As they walked, he couldn't help but notice the strange, almost musical whispers that seemed to come from the shelves. He paused, tilting his head to listen.
"What's with the whispers?" he asked, his voice low.
"Echoes," Elyra replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "Every recipe ever created leaves an echo here. Listen closely, and you might hear the voices of the people who first spoke them."
Kael frowned, straining to make out the words. At first, they were just a jumble of sounds, but then, faintly, he heard a woman's voice, warm and gentle, reciting something about cinnamon and honey. It was oddly comforting, like a memory he'd forgotten he had.
"This way," Elyra said, leading him deeper into the hall. The Inking followed, chirping softly as it darted between the shelves.
They stopped before a large, ornate door carved with intricate patterns of fruits, spices, and vines. At its center was a keyhole shaped like the spiral-and-circle symbol.
"The first page of the Celestial Codex is behind this door," Elyra said. "But to open it, you've got to solve the riddle."
Kael groaned. "Of course there's a riddle. Why wouldn't there be a riddle?"
Elyra grinned. "Where's the fun in making it easy?"
She gestured to the door. Engraved above the keyhole were the words:
"I am not alive, but I grow.
I don't have lungs, but I need air.
What am I?"
Kael stared at the riddle, his mind racing. "Not alive but grows… doesn't have lungs but needs air…" He muttered the words under his breath, pacing back and forth. The Inking floated beside him, its head tilted as if it, too, were pondering the answer.
After a moment, Kael snapped his fingers. "Fire! It's fire!"
Elyra raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. "Good guess. But how do you plan to open the door with fire?"
Kael frowned, scratching the back of his head. "I don't know. Maybe it needs to be… unlocked by fire? Like, literally?"
Elyra tilted her head, considering the idea. "Hmm. Not a bad thought. The archive does have a flair for the literal." She stepped closer to the door, running her fingers lightly over the carvings. "The riddle mentions fire, and the keyhole is shaped like the archive's symbol. It's possible the mechanism is magical, not mechanical."
She turned to Kael, a small smile playing on her lips. "Stand back for a second. Let's see if this works."
Kael took a step back, watching as Elyra raised her hand. Her palm glowed faintly, a soft, golden light gathering at her fingertips. She murmured something under her breath—a few words in a language Kael didn't recognize—and the light shifted, taking on a warmer, flickering hue. It looked like a tiny flame dancing in her hand.
Elyra pressed her hand to the keyhole, and the flame spread across the door's surface, following the intricate carvings of fruits, spices, and vines. The symbols began to glow, one by one, until the entire door was alight with golden fire. There was a soft click, and the door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit room.
Inside, floating in a beam of golden light, was a single page of parchment, covered in swirling, glowing script.
Elyra lowered her hand, the flame dissipating into the air. "Well," she said, glancing at Kael with a smirk, "looks like you were right. Fire it is."
Kael stared at her, wide-eyed. "That was… amazing. How did you do that?"
Elyra shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "Basic elemental magic. Fire's one of the easier ones to work with, as long as you don't burn yourself. Or the archive, for that matter."
Kael blinked. "Wait, you could've burned the archive?"
"Technically, yes," Elyra said, her tone casual. "But I've been doing this for a while. You learn to control it."
Kael shook his head, still processing what he'd just seen. "Right. Of course. Basic elemental magic. Totally normal."
Elyra chuckled. "You'll get used to it. Come on, let's see what we've got."
Kael stepped forward, his heart pounding, and reached for the page. As his fingers brushed it, the script flared brightly, and a wave of warmth washed over him. For a moment, he felt as if he were standing in a sunlit meadow, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.
Then the feeling faded, and he was back in the dim room, holding the page in his hands. The script had stopped glowing, but it still shimmered faintly, as if alive.
"What does it say?" Kael asked, turning to Elyra.
She shrugged. "No idea. The Codex doesn't exactly come with an instruction manual. You'll have to figure it out."
Kael frowned, staring at the page. The script was beautiful but incomprehensible, like a language he'd never seen before. He sighed. "Of course it's not that easy."
Elyra clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax. We'll get there. One step at a time, yeah?"
As they left the Hall of Echoing Recipes, the Inking chirped happily, darting ahead as if leading the way. Kael couldn't help but smile, despite the lingering unease in his chest. He had no idea what he'd gotten himself into, but one thing was certain: life was about to get a lot more interesting.