The next day felt like a dream within a dream. Lyra went through the motions of her morning routine — breakfast with her aunt, the walk to the small bookstore where she worked, the dusty shelves she knew too well — but her mind never strayed far from the castle.
As she shelved books in the quiet shop, her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar. A small, old book, wedged between two volumes of poetry. The spine was cracked, as though it had been opened and closed countless times. The cover was faded, but the title was clear: The Chronicles of Nevrith.
Her breath caught in her throat as she opened the pages. There, on the first page, was a drawing. The same castle. But this time, the spires looked alive, twisting like vines, reaching toward a sky that seemed to bend and warp. Beneath the illustration was a passage:
"Beware the time you lose; for time, once broken, can never be returned."
The words blurred before her eyes. Her pulse quickened, and the book slipped from her hands, falling to the floor with a quiet thud.
"Careful," came a voice behind her.
Startled, Lyra turned to find Elias — the bookstore owner's grandson — watching her with concern. He was a few years older, always dressed in dusty cardigans and soft-spoken charm.
"You okay?"
Lyra hesitated. She wanted to say no, to tell him about the dreams, the sketch, the strange words, but she forced a smile. "Yeah... just startled. This book, it—"
Elias picked it up, flipping through it casually. "Old thing. Belonged to my grandfather. No one's touched it in years. Creepy, right?"
She nodded slowly. "Do you believe in... fate?"
He glanced at her, amused. "What, like destiny and all that? Not really. Why?"
"No reason," she lied, tucking the book into her bag when he turned away.
That night, she opened it again under the covers with a flashlight. The longer she stared at the pages, the more they seemed to change — like the ink was alive.
And in the center of one page, something new had appeared: a name.
Coren Elarion.
She hadn't written it. But somehow, she knew — he was waiting.