This is a guest fan-fiction. This fan-fiction is written by two of my closest friends, although they like to go under one name, Karabelle.
This fan-fiction will be updated weekly and ALL CREDIT GOES TO KARABELLE!
Thank you and enjoy!
Prologue – It was raining in Dublin.
The icy water fell from the heavens, pounding down on the marble steps, disguising the sound made by a pair of black leather boots. The shadowy figure of a woman was illuminated by the lightning held in her palm. She reached the landing and smirked. It was all so easy, she thought. The woman crossed the landing and headed towards the heavy wooden doors that marked the entrance to the mortal library. As she closed the old doors silently, the thundering of the rain was muffled.
She travelled through the maze of book shelves that crisscrossed the library until she reached a door that said ‘restricted area’. Even the staff weren’t allowed through that door. That was where all the magic books were kept. And that was her destination. Finally she would get her hands on that one stupid book. What was it called again? She pondered as she trod down the narrow, bleak hallway. Yes, the Book of Souls. She stopped at the end and peered around the corner. She could see the flickering light of a candle, shining through the iron bar doors that were protecting the books.
Although he was just out of sight, she knew that the candle was being held by a mage, Oswald Waldroop. She also knew that he was a weak elemental and that he would be leaving in less than 5 minutes so that he didn’t miss his favourite television show, The Wheel of Misfortune. She had to ask her sources to find information on him, which was shameful. I should know these things, she thought, he is my father after all.
Oswald soon made an appearance. He was short and round and, as usual, his trousers looked a little bit too tight for him. His thinning, grey hair sat upon his head like a mop. His dark brown eyes were small and beady. He closed the iron gate and locked it on the way out as he walked towards his daughter. She slid back against the wall. Moments before he shuffled into her line of sight, she produced a cloaking sphere from inside her jacket pocket. She quickly adjusted it so it just covered her body and didn’t take up any more room than she needed to stay hidden. As he hobbled past, he glanced at where she was standing and sighed deeply.
He mumbled to himself as he reached the grey door at the end of the hallway. Something about not trusting people. He pushed open the door and left the corridor, still muttering. She got to work immediately. She kept the cloaking sphere in place in case he came back for whatever reason. She summoned lightning and started melting the lock. Sparks flew inside the cloaking sphere. A few landed on her skin, burning it, but she didn’t care, not when she was this close.
The lock fell to the floor with a clang only she could hear. It was unrecognizable. She kicked open the door and the hinges creaked so loudly, thank the heavens it was inside the cloaking sphere, the whole town would have heard it. She shoved the cloaking sphere back inside her jacket and crept into the room. She quickly took in her surroundings. The book immediately stood out, sitting on a wooden podium, protected by reinforced glass.
The book hummed and pulsated with power. As she moved closer she was sure she could here it speaking to her. It sounded like hundreds of people talking at once, though only at a whisper. So this would be what humanity would be reduced to; billions of souls whispering, no, begging for freedom.
Unconsciously, she touched the glass and received a painful electric shock. Really, she thought sarcastically, this is the defensive mechanism for a book of mass destruction. The next time she touched the glass, she prepared herself. She let the electricity run through her body before she sent it crashing back towards the glass barrier.
Razor sharp shards of glass rained down upon the ground. She picked up the book with great care. No debris had landed on the cover of the ancient book. The corners of the golden-brown pages had started curling over and were covered in dust that was permanently embedded in the paper.
“All powerful Book of Souls, I am your new master, you must obey my commands,” She scowled at herself for talking to a book. She sighed. She had gone to so much effort, and her plan had failed just because the stupid book couldn’t be bothered to wake up.
The whispering ceased and the room fell quiet. In her hands, the book flew open. The blank pages kept turning until it reached the middle. In the center of the page, written in deathly black ink, was one little word;
If you want to contact Karabelle, please do so in the comments and we will pass it onto them.
Thank you, and we will see you in a week!
The Immortal Readers