The dusty rusty shelves of books stocked to the brim climbed high within the bricked building. Its windows tainted with grime and smoke from numerous nearby factories. The sun had long gone under and the moon lit dimly stained yellow streams of light within.
The front door rattles and metal chains clink together. Old and worn and locked by thick steady iron for the night to fly by, and the daylight to peek before the city bell's next chime. A creak, and gears unwound and the heavy metal sank closer to the floor as the oversized door loudly stirs.
A small figure peeks in through the flooding moonlight as the dust wakes within the building's grandeur.
Long matted black hair and ever so darker eyes that void the little light. A tattered worn pink dress with stained shoes that tap against the smooth wooden floor. A cold candle gripped tightly in her scratched hands as she ventures within the endless maze of tomes.
Her gaze jumps from the spines of book to book reading the titles as she passes by for something to catch her eye. The intricate details of every piece of lovely literature calls to her.
It's a shame that the collective knowledge of thousands oh so easy to reach could never be learned in just one lifespan. It was never a problem for her anyways. The past and written had always been more alluring than the world of copper gears and tears of fear.
It's getting colder the further in she steps and the still dark beckons her to rest. Where was that book that had caught her sight the night before? Ah, dim green and the strangely eye catching symbol of azure blue.
She had been putting off reading it as such topics never intrigued her, but religion is deeply tied to history regardless so it's not like she did herself any favours just ignoring it.
It slid out scraping against the metal frame of the bookshelf and was thicker than her flameless candle.
She lugged the book over to a nearby desk and searched for a match. Empty drawers and no desire to search in the dark anymore.
The girl decides to drag the book along with her, and pray nobody would notice. Carefully tracing her steps to make sure everything was all still the same before pulling the grand door closed for the ever approaching morning light.
She should make haste before her mother stirs.
YOU ARE READING
Noelle's Pantheon
FantasyA lovely introduction and history to all the characters of The Accepting Hellhole story. This is a collaborative effort of concepts between many, many people. More than 10... oh god...
