Chapter 18: A Book

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Mahale: "Ow..."

My head hurt. The dream I had was so... surreal. It was as if reality itself had been completely changed.

Mahale: "Am I... on the couch?"

I rubbed my head and looked around. No one was there. I looked outside and saw the sun slowly rising.

Mahale: "Don't tell me... did I go back in time again?"

Sol: "Huh?"

I jumped a little bit and looked behind me toward the kitchen. Sol was cooking breakfast again.

Mahale: "Oh! You startled me a little bit."

Sol: "Same here! You didn't tell me you were from the future!"

Mahale: "...What? No."

Sol: "So... you're not a time traveller?"

I considered telling Sol about everything, but he was honestly better off not knowing.

Mahale: "No. I'm not. I just had a dream about time is all."

Sol gave me a mischievous chuckle.

Sol: "Suuuuree... you're NOT a time traveller. Got it."

He winked at me.

Mahale: "No, seriously, Sol, I'm not a time traveller."

Sol: "I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO SAY."

He gave me an even more exaggerated wink.

Mahale: "Nevermind. What happened yesterday?"

Sol: "Huh? Uh... you found out Catty killed Apollo and Artemis. Why?"

Mahale: "It's hard to discern between what's a dream and what's reality."

I was relieved that I was still in the right time.

Sol: "You kinda passed out yesterday. I went downstairs and saw you asleep on the couch. I guess no one wanted to wake you up. You missed dinner. Actually, you missed breakfast too."

Mahale: "No wonder I feel so weak. Is breakfast almost done?"

Sol: "Uhhh... I like... just started."

Mahale: "Can you just toast some bread and give me that?"

Sol: "I can. What else do you want with it?"

Mahale: "Um... I don't know... butter?"

Sol: "Ok... what else?"

Mahale: "That's all."

Sol looked at me with a judgemental expression.

Mahale: "What?"

Sol: "You're asking me to just give you toast."

Mahale: "Yes. With butter. Please."

Sol begrudgingly put a piece of bread in the toaster oven. I have absolutely no idea why this made him so angry, but it did, and I wasn't about to question Sol, I wouldn't get anywhere with that.

Scarlet: "I see that you two are the first ones awoken yet again."

I spun around and Scarlet was standing almost directly behind me. I took a couple steps away from her.

Scarlet: "Afraid of me? How amusing."

Mahale: "Scarlet, you're tall, you're pale, you have red eyes, and you have a weird and probably unhealthy fascination with blood. I don't think it's that surprising that I'm wary of you."

Scarlet only laughed and turned back to go upstairs.

Sol: "I bet she's a ghost."

Mahale: "What? No."

Sol: "A zombie then."

Mahale: "..."

Sol: "GASP. SHE'S A MUMMY!"

Mahale: "I'm leaving."

I turned to the front door and noticed that it was slightly open.

Mahale: "Sol, did anyone come through here?"

Sol: "Um... no? I don't think so."

A loud ding came from the kitchen.

Sol: "Your... ugh... toast... is done."

Sol opened the toaster oven, picked up the toast, and threw it at me. I almost failed to catch it.

Mahale: "Could you not throw it that high?"

Sol: "Sure. Whatever. Leave with your... blegh... toast."

I shrugged and pushed the door open. I walked across the bridge and across the pavement leading to the door back to the area we woke up in. I noticed that this door was also slightly open as well.

Mahale: "Weird. The doors are open, but not enough to let someone through. I wonder why."

I pushed this door open as well and entered the hall of doors. One of the doors, the library door, was slightly open too. I took a bite of my toast and entered the library.

Mahale: "Is anyone here?"

Scattered across the library floor was what seemed like hundreds of books. At the center of the mess was a woman with long, lavender hair, calmly sitting down with her legs crossed, reading an impressively sized book with a purple cover. She looked up at me, startled, when I opened the door. She stared at me.

Mahale: "Who are-"

Before I could finish my sentence, the woman wasn't there anymore. It was as if I had a hallucination. Where she was previously, was now a purple mist. The book she had was lying down, closed.

Mahale: "What... what just happened?"

I carefully made my way across the library to where the book was, making sure not to step on anything. I kneeled down and examined the cover.

In big bold letters, was a name. A name I recognized.

VIOLET

The first to die in Paradox. This was her book.

I immediately opened it, and started reading the first page.

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