A book of chance

prologue

On an early morning on a day one would call normal as any other, a girl is walking through an empty, cobbled street. A thick, old-looking book is safely secured in her hands. The winter sun, which has only been awake for a handful of minutes, has risen just a little bit above the buildings on the left side of the street. The golden rays of this tired sun warm the back of the girl as she comes to a halt in front of a small building she knows all too well; the library.

The girl puts her hand on the doorknob and a smile grows on her face as the door opens. She'd arrived quite early, she wasn't sure if the old building had already opened for bookworms like her to collect a new masterpiece.

As the girl enters the building she is greeted with a welcoming warmth and the smell of old books and the librarian's morning coffee. With a friendly smile she hands the old book she'd finished reading quite recently to the librarian, who's sitting behind a desk on a crooked, quite uncomfortable looking chair. The librarian is an old, friendly soul with a passion for books, especially old and unique books you don't often find in regular bookstores, but the girl detects a tiredness in the man's eyes. Maybe it is because of the early morning, maybe because of his age and maybe just because of something else, the girl isn't certain. She walks away from the desk after saying her thanks and wishes the librarian a good morning. There is a skip in the girl's step, she's thrilled to roam through the rows and rows of books to choose a new masterpiece to read.

Hours slowly go by as the girl roams from genre to genre, now and then picking up a few books to read the back and sometimes (when the story seems really interesting) to read the first chapter. Some of the books she had already read, some she hasn't. Each story is more fascinating than the other. After a while the girl reaches her favourite section of the old library: the old, worn down books.

A smile grows on the girl's face as she moves her fingers across the worn, leather bound backs of the books, which are neatly placed on the shelves. Books about history, literature, bibles, classics, old books from the early 1900's, some even older. This is pure beauty to the girl.

Her eyes roam over the titles of the books. She's been standing in this very spot so often and for such a long time that she's memorized quite a few titles of the small collection and their position on the shelf. She is, however, delighted to see that three new books have been added to the collection; another bible which looks even older and prettier than the one on the shelf above it, a tattered, thick book about the history of her little village from 1890 to 1940, and an old, small, black book... without a title.

Intrigued by this little, newly discovered mystery, the girl reaches out to grab the book. It is so small and thin compared to the others books on the shelf that it could be easily overlooked by other people. The girl turns the book in her hands, only to find the cover of the book empty as well - no title, no author. She opens the book, hoping to find some words - anything - but the old, yellow-ish pages are blank. Confused and a bit disappointed, the girl closes the book again, but as she did so she saw something she didn't expect: the book had a title now.

'A book of chance'

The words are neatly written at the top of the book cover, shiny bronze in colour and decorated with many graceful curls and lines, making it both beautiful and kind of hard to read. With many questions as to how what just happened is possible, the girl holds the book in the air, twisting and turning it in all directions and holding it in the light, hoping to find a logical explanation. She's also looking to find more words from the book to understand what is happening. The strange title only brings more questions than answers.

With a soft sigh of defeat (and maybe a little bit of relief), she brings brings the book down from the light to rest onto her left arm. There were no other words or scribbles on the outside of the book. As a final test the girl opens the book, slowly going through a few pages, only to find nothing. after a little while the girl rests her right hand on the old, yellow-ish pages, softly feeling around, hoping to find any indents of words. She feels nothing, just old paper that is not as smooth as it once used to be.

But as she retreats her hand from the paper, she lets out a startled gasp and loudly closes the book in shock; there were words now, in exactly the same spot her hand just left the page. The girl looks up, blinks, and quickly looks around her to see if anyone had seen her strange and unexpected outburst, but to her relief there was no one else in the library. Very careful and a bit wary of what she will read - if the words are still there, that is - she opens the book again, turning page after page until she reaches the page she once had opened. The words were still there, written in the same curly font as the title, but just a bit smaller and in black ink.

The girl brings the book closer to her face and squints her eyes as she tries to read the distracting, curly font. Once she manages to read it she drops the book in shock.

She read her name, her full name.

Confused and a bit fearful, she looks down at the strange book, which was messily dumped at her feet. Why do words appear? What does it mean? How is this possible? Why is her name in there?

The girl takes a step back from the book. She shouldn't mess with a strange object like that. She shouldn't mess with the unknown. She has read so many stories about similar things and it almost always ends bad.

But still...

Not all strange things are bad, aren't they? The stories have also taught the girl that mysteries are made to be solved. Sometimes the unknown has given the protagonist great possibilities and a wonderful adventure...

The girl feels her curiosity taking over her common sense as her body slowly but surely takes a step towards the old book again. With one part of her mind in another world full of possibilities and wonder and the other part of her mind in this reality, screaming at her to get away as fast as possible, the girl finds herself kneeling down and reaching for the old book on the ground; curiosity keeps on winning from her common sense.

A slight tingle of both fear and excitement goes through her body as her fingertips touch the book. They softly brush over the flipped cover, waiting for something to happen, until she's got a firm hold on the book. She grabs it and slowly rises to her feet.

Once she's standing straight up again, the book safely secured in both her hands, the girl heads to her favourite reading spot; a comfortable chair in a corner at the far end of the library. Here she will have privacy as she attempts to discover the book's many mysteries, she'll be safely seated and no one will be able to hear her if the book manages to startle her again.

As she gets comfortable in the chair, moving a decorative pillow a bit to the side as she did so, the girl opens the book yet again, slowly flipping through the yellow pages until she reaches the page with her name on it. Somewhat happy to find her name again and now fully convinced that whatever is happening is real and not her imagination, the girl is surprised to see a small column of text on the page next to the one with her name. The text, just like her name and the book's title, is written in a very curly font, but, unlike the rest so far, it is much easier for the girl to decipher. It read:

'Some I will change for the better

Some I will change for the worst

Some I will leave just as they are

You are given the chance

Choose wisely

Or I will'

The girl isn't quite certain if she should be curious about the verse or feel threatened. Is this really real? What does it mean? Confused, she flips the page, only find a few new words at the top of the page:

Chapter one