Chapter 87: Chapter 87

I settled into the large chair at the center of the room, staring at the endless rows of books that stretched across the walls. The room was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the usual commotion caused by Harold and Gerald.

No distractions this time. No talking objects. Just me and whatever secrets this place had.

I ran my fingers over the spines of countless tomes, their titles fading into obscurity with age. Some were thick with dust, their leather bindings cracking, while others gleamed as if newly placed. My attention landed on one particular book with a blackened cover and gold engravings that shimmered faintly under the dim light.

"Stellar Veil: Chronicles of Forgotten Realms."

The name was intriguing enough to make me hesitate before pulling it out. My fingers tingled as I held the book—it was lighter than it appeared, almost unnervingly so.

I settled back into the chair and opened the first page. The writing was ancient, looping, and difficult to decipher, but something about it felt familiar.

The opening line read: "When the night swallows the sun and the stars whisper secrets, the veil of truth is lifted."

I frowned. "Cryptic much?" I murmured to myself.

I flipped through a few more pages, finding sketches of constellations, strange symbols, and handwritten annotations in a language I didn’t recognize. The more I read, the heavier my eyelids became. My body felt like it was sinking into the chair, as if the words were dragging me down into the very fabric of the book itself.

My vision blurred as I stared at the pages, the black ink seeming to ripple like water. My head lolled back, and before I knew it, darkness swallowed me whole.

---

Stars.

Billions of them, scattered across a vast, endless expanse of black. I was weightless, suspended in the void. The constellations shifted and danced as if they were alive, whispering in a language I couldn’t understand but somehow felt drawn to.

"Kiara..."

The voice was soft, like a gentle breeze brushing past my ear.

I turned, searching for the source, but there was nothing but the stars. My heart raced, the vast emptiness both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

"You’ve come so far."

"Who’s there?" I asked, my voice echoing strangely in the void.

No answer. Just the hum of the stars growing louder, their light intensifying. They twisted and merged into a shape—a figure cloaked in shadow and light.

The figure raised a hand, pointing at me.

I froze.

"Don’t look away."

I didn’t. I couldn’t. The figure stepped closer, their outline shifting and shimmering, but just as they were about to touch me, the stars exploded into a blinding light.

---

I jolted awake, gasping.

The book lay open on my lap, its pages blank, as if mocking me. My heart pounded as I rubbed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.

"What the hell was that?" I muttered, closing the book with shaky hands.

I glanced around the room, half-expecting someone—or something—to jump out at me. But there was nothing. Just silence and the faint hum of magic that seemed to linger in the air.

I stood, clutching the book tightly. "Stellar Veil, huh?" I whispered. "What are you trying to tell me?"

The book, of course, gave no answer. But something told me this wouldn’t be the last time I encountered its secrets.

For now, I’d keep it close.

***

The moment I stepped out of the room, the door behind me closed with a loud, decisive thud. I jumped, clutching the book tightly against my chest. Turning back, I saw no handle, no seam, no indication that it had ever been a door. Just a smooth wall staring back at me.

"Seriously?" I muttered, glancing down at the mysterious book in my hands.

The hallway was dimly lit, the only sound being the faint echo of my footsteps as I walked. Emerging into the main hall, I spotted Lucian seated near a small round table, sipping tea as though this was an ordinary Sunday afternoon and not his eerie lair of cryptic nonsense.

"Lucian," I called out, walking toward him. "Where’s Jason?"

He didn’t look up, swirling the dark liquid in his ornate cup before taking another slow sip. "Home," he replied simply.

I blinked. "Home?"

Lucian finally met my gaze, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. "Yes, darling. Home."

"Oh," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. "He was supposed to take me home."

Lucian’s lips curved into a faint smile as he gestured toward an empty chair. "I will take you home. Eventually."

I crossed my arms, staying where I stood. "I don’t have ’eventually’ in my schedule, Lucian. Did you at least get what you needed from me snooping around in that room?"

Lucian’s smile widened as he leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Did you?"

I frowned, my grip on the book tightening. "No, actually. Because you didn’t bother giving me any clue on what I was supposed to be looking for."

He chuckled, a low sound that made me want to throw the book at him. "Apologies, Kiara. I didn’t want to cloud your instincts with unnecessary details."

"Unnecessary—" I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising frustration. "Lucian, you sent me into a room with no instructions, no context, nothing, and now you’re sitting here drinking tea like you didn’t just waste my time."

Lucian raised a brow, his smirk never faltering. "And yet, you walked out with something in your hands, didn’t you?"

I glanced down at the book, its black cover feeling heavier now than it had before. "This? It’s just a bunch of riddles and gibberish. What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Read it, of course." He sipped his tea. "The answers you seek might not be as far as you think."

I rolled my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

Lucian laughed softly. "You wound me, Kiara. Truly."

"Yeah, well, get used to it." I stepped closer, holding the book out toward him. "If this thing is so important, then you tell me what it means."

He didn’t take it, his gaze flicking between the book and my face. "It doesn’t matter what it means to me. What matters is what it means to you."

I groaned, dropping the book to my side. "You’re really not going to give me anything, are you?"

"Consider it a test of sorts," he said, setting his cup down with a gentle clink. "You’re sharper than you give yourself credit for. Trust yourself."

"Trust myself," I repeated, deadpan. "Right. Because that’s worked out so well for me so far."

Lucian stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his immaculate suit. He towered over me, his presence as commanding as ever. "You’ll figure it out, Kiara. You always do."

Before I could argue further, he gestured toward the door. "Now may we leave."

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