The Mortal Soulbinder (Severed Gods, #1)

Chapter XII: Myrella

Myrella

A puff of dust clouded into the air, as Myrel closed the book for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Looking up, she sighed, swatting the dust particles away from the cover with her sleeve. Underneath the flickering candlelight, the books; Encyclopaedia of all Known Magic and Warcraft Systems in the Three Continents and The Clandestine Marvels of Magic, could be seen through the suffocating layer of dust. It had taken her forever to find these particular books – not surprising, considering that they were pretty much frowned upon by the modern Citadel society; Myrel was surprised that she could find these types of books at all. Despite this, she wasn't getting any answers. Answers that she desperately wanted, anyhow. Her sole purpose of coming to the library was to see if any of the books could tell her what that strange symbol represents or any that explained her... powers. Myrel still cringed at calling what she experienced her "power", but she didn't know how else to explain it.

Myrel had tried her best to conceal the books that she had been reading for the past three hours, by placing piles of other books around them like a miniature fort. Through blurry eyes, she glanced up at the gigantic clock hanging above the library entrance. The clock hands twinkled with an ebony light underneath the myriad lightshades dotting the library ceiling like stars, its big hand being at least two meters in height. 

"Crap," Myrel mumbled under her breath, as she realised what time it actually was. She hadn't been reading for three hours – she had, in fact, been here practically all night.

Whilst slowly pushing herself up from the chair, she grimaced; her legs were awfully stiff and sore. She reckoned she had never spent so much time sitting and reading in her life. And now I can understand why, she thought as she walked over to the bookshelves on aching feet. She had to crane her neck to look up at the twelve magnificent rows of crumbling parchments, scrolls, passages and books. According to the Royal librarian whom she had spoken with earlier, some of these books dated back five thousand years, all of which adorned the walls in a sea of striking colour and were mostly clustered right at the top – and for good reason. The library had dealt with at least a dozen attempted robberies in the past year. She shook her head at the thought. Myrel couldn't understand why someone would go to so much trouble just to get their hands on incomprehensible, crumbling pieces of paper. Having said that, it had taken Master Willmyr and the royal Librarian, forty-five years to accumulate half of the books, acquiring the rarest and most extraordinary passes in all of Riel, with some even predating the Fall of Pantheras –the beginning of Time. Perhaps, some of that information was worth a lot of money for those thieves. Although it still struck Myrel as being very odd, indeed. Why not go for the King's crown or the entire Citadel, instead? I probably shouldn't think about that, Myrel thought as she glanced around guiltily, lest it comes true.

Failing to suppress a yawn, she rubbed her eyes harshly with her knuckles, no doubt leaving red marks behind. Tired bags had begun to cluster underneath. I have been here way too long, Myrel thought with a sigh. But as she glanced down at the books through half-open eyes, she didn't feel any satisfaction; she hadn't accomplished anything she had come in here for. The paper cracked underneath her fingertips as she lifted the paper which had her rushed, scribbled notes on it. She eyed the strange symbol in the left-hand corner – the one she is starting to come across continually, accompanied by a feeling of trepidation. She had also drawn a quick sketch of the cracks she has also been seeing in the other corner, although this really comprised of lots of squiggles on the page. She had initially taken a risk and shown these drawings to the Royal Librarian, who looked back with a frown and had merely shrugged. In retrospect, Myrel should have anticipated that response due to the prohibited nature surrounding black magic and such. Well, could she really call it black magic? She wasn't entirely sure what she had been seeing, not to mention whether it was actually real. Should I try and ask someone else? Myrel wondered.