𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐔𝐒

XVI. Risks and Revelations

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Stars burn brighter with knowledge.

THE ENGRAVED WORDS, cemented onto a gold plaque above the library's doors, caught the morning light between its lettering; it dripped through the seams like gold tears- a spill of brilliant ichor which now lay puddled at Lilith's feet. The witch blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust as they trailed over and across the motto.

The words gleamed with promise. Her several, if not unnecessary, readings did not diminish the fact. Somewhere within the ancient bookshelves of Astrum Library, Lilith was certain there was a book about the stone. If not a factual record, at least a fictitious narrative, hidden in one of the mythical volumes. Although the selection was narrow, with more imagination, and invention than truth- Astrum cared little of magic, and the likes- Lilith Crowe was hopeful. She needed to be. She had to be.

Without harboring any knowledge on the stone, she was at a dangerous disadvantage. She needed leverage, desperately.

Steadying herself, Lilith looked away, and pulled the doors open. In the early hours of the morning, torches and oil lamps were forgotten, left unlit, and discarded in preference to the natural light of daybreak. As such, there was no warmth to the chamber, only a hollow coldness which wafted about like a phantom. The few students scattered about did not seem to mind. They were too deep in their studies, in the exhaustion of their psyche, and fingers, to feel anything other than the burn of knowledge. Nor did they care to regard Liliht's presence. Her footsteps were lost on them, drowned by the scratching of pen on parchment, and the frenzied turn of pages. Lilith sighed a breath of relief, and slowly made her way to the back of the chamber, adjusting the clasp of her cape as she went.

The witch wove between the many bookcases, spine after spine fading behind her trailing fingers. She took in a calming breath, and inhaled the scent of books, and ink- of usefulness, and promise, and something more, something that reminded her of smoke, and fire. The smell of it, sharp, and acrid, set her lungs ablaze, until every breath she took tasted of ash, and every breath she released stung.

Lilith wavered. Her sclera felt as though it were melting, and dripping down her face like hot wax. Her bones felt calcified, making it difficult for her to even stand. The potency of it was severely disorienting. And yet, her throat ached with impossible longing, to breathe it in deeper, to have it in her tongue, in her lungs, in her veins...

Lilith shook herself, and dug her heels into the floorboards, balancing herself on the nearest shelf. Her vision swarmed in and out of focus. Between each furious blink, however, her eyes managed to shift a few words into focality. The Specter's Head. Lilith inhaled a sharp breath, and pushed herself back- from the book, from that night, from him.

He lingered between the bookshelves, untouched by distance, and time. Preserved by will, and memory like ink bound in cloth. She could feel him as strongly as if he were there. Could nearly feel his breath on her, a blade against her flesh. A familiar shiver blossomed in Lilith's spine. It sprouted in her neck, rippled down her vertebrae, and rushed into her veins. The witch shivered, and pressed herself further away, like a terrified child.

Regulus Winters was her monster. Her ghost, and her torment.

He would always, endlessly haunt her.

And it was entirely her fault.

Regret, and anger suddenly overcame her, hot, and pulsing. Her skull felt as though it would burst, with a string of what if's and what not's coiling unbearably around the base. Lilith hissed, and turned on her heels, her expression pained. She could not keep the bitterness from bleeding through, for she was more than aware that she had changed her fortune. That she was to blame for aligning paths with Regulus Winters. Every choice, and decision she had made, had brought her to him, and it was devastating- the notion that it might have been avoidable if she had picked differently.