Elara's POV
There was no falling sensation.
No transition.
Just a blink—
And I was somewhere else.
The air was heavy, tinged with the metallic scent of ink and something colder… like rusted iron. I stood in a vast hall of obsidian, the floor reflective like black water. Above me, torn pages floated midair, suspended like frozen memories.
A throne stood at the center.
Empty.
> [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: ARC INITIATED – "The Inkless Lord"]
OBJECTIVE: Gain audience with the Lord.
DANGER LEVEL: HIGH
HINT: Lies are safer than truth.
I took one careful step. The floor rippled beneath me.
Kael hadn't come with me. Of course not. This was my arc now. My test.
The silence was so complete it rang in my ears—until it broke.
Footsteps.
Measured. Sharp.
From the shadows emerged him.
Tall. Pale-skinned. Cloaked in midnight blue stitched with ancient sigils. His hair was dark as ink, his eyes…
His eyes weren't eyes at all.
They were empty sockets—swirling with black liquid that glowed faintly, as though containing stars. Terrifying. Mesmerizing.
The Inkless Lord.
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he circled me slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
"You do not belong in this realm," he finally said, voice smooth like silk brushing over glass. "And yet… the story allowed you passage."
I swallowed, remembering the hint. Lies are safer than truth.
"I'm a scribe," I said carefully. "Sent to… record your legend."
He stopped behind me.
Silence.
And then… a quiet chuckle. Low. Dangerous.
"Is that what you tell yourself, Elara?"
I froze.
How did he know my name?
He stepped into view again. His expression was unreadable—but the air around him trembled.
"The ink of this realm listens. And it remembers. It knows you brought a book inside a book. That is... forbidden."
I clutched the Book of Forgotten Realms tighter. "I didn't choose this."
"No," he agreed. "The book did. But do you know why?"
I shook my head.
He leaned closer. Too close.
"Because your soul… is half-written."
The moment he said it, something inside me twisted. A memory. A flicker.
My mother's voice—screaming in the night. A candle snuffed out. A name erased.
I blinked, and it was gone.
"I can help you find the rest of your story," he said softly. "But everything has a price."
"And what do you want?" I whispered.
His lips curved into a smile. "I want your ink."
Before I could speak, his hand reached out—and touched the book in my hands.
Pain.
Flashes of light.
Images that weren't mine.
A girl. A dagger. A betrayal in a tower of mirrors.
He pulled back, eyes narrowing.
"You're not from this story," he murmured. "You're from another."
The system dinged.
> [HIDDEN MEMORY UNLOCKED – 1/7]
Fragment: The Sister Who Never Lived
Reward: Knowledge +10
The Inkless Lord's voice darkened.
"Very well. I will allow you to remain in my court. For now. But if you lie again…"
He lifted a finger.
And one of the floating pages screamed as it burst into flames.
I nodded quickly.
"Then welcome, Inkbearer," he said, turning to his throne. "Let us see if your story ends in ink… or blood."
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End of Chapter 5