The Mortal Soulbinder (Severed Gods, #1)

Chapter XV: Myrella

Myrella

No one woke Myrel in the morning. Truth be told, it was, in fact, the afternoon, as Myrel had left the library just after sunrise. The guard had left her straight away, allowing her to instantly dive onto her bed, the fluffy fabric cushioning her body like a cradle. 

Myrel's eye stung as the midday sun spilled into her bedchamber. Yawning and stretching her arms, she leaped up from bed. Her sheets tumbled onto the floor, revealing the same clothes that she had worn when meeting Kuldrik and those she also wore inside the library. Odor was pungent. After dressing, instantly grabbing for her brown cotton trousers and white linen shirt, Myrel decided to plod over to her desk to inspect the books that she had smuggled back from the library (she was extremely surprised that the guard failed to notice them). 

Whilst rubbing her stinging eyes, Myrel spied a book titled Honing Your Hidden Swordsman Skills, the very sight of it causing the embers of intrigue to blaze within her. Sighing, she suppressed this, reluctantly moving on. She suddenly spied another interesting passage; black and gold swirls protruding from the masses of colour. Straining on her toes, she pulled it from its place with great effort. Documents of King Halmar's Wardens, it was called - one of her favourites.

Gingerly, she looked around, inspecting the shadows carefully to see if any spies were lumbering among them. The old Master Aldwyn often employed spies to keep an eye on her. When she had made sure that there was no one watching her, Myrel opened the book. The swirling letters written by King himself were instantly revealed, rising and falling across the page like ripples of water. She felt the brittle pages crinkle underneath her fingertips, as she carefully turned the pages. Her reading lamp was flickering, it's oil all but gone. She sighed heavily, as dusk began sneaking up outside of the window, the brilliant haze of the sunrise spilling into her bedchamber. Myrel had been at it all night since she had returned from the hall and could continue for much longer, but that was nothing new. She didn't value sleep much.

As much as she desired to look through this book, Myrel carefully placed it back onto the shelf against her will. She was not here to marvel at knights and kings. She was here to find a book which would help her understand what had happened that night - merely four hours before now. She had requested some books from Master Willmyr boasting the themes of black magic and knights of the legends - she thought they may be of some help, too. She was sure there would be a book explaining the strange markings on the stranger's hands. And a book about dark magic, or whatever it was. Myrel shivered as the gleaming black mask floated in front of her eyes and she instantly bashed it away with a book, shrieking.

"What would the book be called?" she mused aloud, as she threw the book aside and regained her posture.

Her eyes were like a hawk's, inspecting every book and shelf. The world around her became a distant void as if she were floating amid a fathomless chamber. The sole purpose of finding the book overtook her like the claws of a demon and so she failed to hear the knock on the door.

Minutes of silence passed.

"Myrel?"

Throwing a book aside, Myrel jerked around as the unexpected voice ripped at the void. Laughing, Bennard could be seen standing four paces away from the ajar door, in the corner of a bookshelf, shrouded by shadow like a ghost. He quickly straightened as he saw Myrel's angry glare, clearing his throat.

"Why did you not knock?" she asked, walking over to the door and shutting it with an angry slam.

Biting his lip, Bennard retreated further into the shadows. "I did," he answered quietly. "You must not have heard me." He hesitated, looking down at her clothing briefly. He gestured behind his shoulder, unsure. "If you would prefer me to leave..."