Gray blinked slowly, his eyes dragging over the same line of text again. The words were starting to blur. Across from him, Renn sat cross-legged in the chair, a stack of monster theory books around him. He muttered to himself as he read, fully absorbed. The library was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of pages and distant footsteps.
Gray let out a breath and leaned back. "I'm heading out. My brain's melting."
Renn didn't look up. "It melted two chapters ago."
"I need to move. Or sleep. Or both."
"You do that," Renn mumbled. "I'll be right here, memorizing territorial behaviors like a good student."
"Go ahead."
Gray pushed away from the table and wandered into one of the deeper wings. The lamps here flickered more faintly, casting shaky light onto walls crowded with ancient books. The deeper he walked, the more the library seemed to fold around him. The air was colder, heavier. Shelves arched overhead like ribs, and the corridors no longer felt straight. They curved subtly, weaving like vines.
He frowned, realizing he didn't recognize this part of the library.
His head buzzed. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He stumbled sideways, hand outstretched, and bumped shoulder-first into a crooked bookshelf. Something fell. A heavy thump near his feet.
Gray looked down.
A single book lay face-up on the floor. Its cover was rough leather, stained a dark gray so deep it looked almost black. No title. No author. Just a symbol pressed into the spine. A spiral twisting into a broken star. Something about it made his chest tighten.
He picked it up and read the title.
"Veins of Hollow: The Theory on Reverse Vyre."
Grays eyes widened.
'No way...'
Was this talking about what he thought?
Most of the pages were torn out, as if deliberately ripped. What remained were smeared symbols, spirals, lines, shapes, written in an angular script he didn't recognize.
'A language? A warning?'
Only one page remained intact.
Page 73.
It was handwritten in uneven ink, different from the rest. But more than that, it felt like it shouldn't be there. Like something had tried to erase it, and failed.
And somehow… he knew it was meant for him.
He slowly read it aloud.
"To consume Vyre is to deny the world its shape.
Where others channel and shape its breath, the Hollowed devour its soul.
Reversed Flow begins not in the veins, but in the core, where filtration fails, and something else awakens.
The consumed Vyre festers, twists, and is reborn into Wither.
It is not light. It is not shadow.
It is what remains when both are gone."
"Recorded cases of Reverse Flow strain bearers often exhibited changes in temperament, irregular dreams, or signs of Vyre collapse. One bore a mark upon their chest. A spiral of black threading into a broken star."
"They do not burn their veins."
"They rot them."
Gray let the page fall shut with a soft thud. The weight of what he'd just read lingered like cold smoke. He clutched the book tighter, breathing slow. His pulse still hadn't calmed.
"Reverse Flow…" he whispered. "Wither Vyre…"
It was too close to what he had done. Too aligned. He hadn't told anyone, not even Renn what happened during that first lesson. How the energy hadn't passed through his veins like it should have. How it had sunk into his core, swallowed, consumed. Changed. But he knew that they were too many downsides and effects to experiment further.
He closed the book fully and looked again at the cracked spiral on the cover. For a moment, he thought it shifted. Warped slightly. Like it was breathing.
Gray turned away.
His eyes scanned the crooked shelves. Part of him knew he should go back, but his hands moved on instinct. He stepped farther down the twisting corridor and reached toward a different shelf. Something tugged at his senses. A strange familiarity.
His fingers brushed against another book.
This one was bound in leather like the last, though it felt warmer to the touch. A faint hum pulsed beneath its cover. He flipped it open and blinked at the title etched in glowing ink across the first page:
"Chronicles of the Seven Origins."
Below the title was a symbol. A fractured star, nearly identical to the one on the Reverse Vyre book, but clean, precise, not chaotic. This one radiated a sense of legacy. Authority. Something sacred.
Gray's lips parted slightly as he read.
The Seven Origins. He'd heard the name mentioned during early lectures, but only vaguely. Something about myths or figures from the First Generation, those who had been there when the continent of Nyxterra had first risen from the ocean, bringing with it corruption, beasts, and Vyre itself.
The book's first page explained more:
"The Seven Origins were the first humans to survive Nyxterra's touch. They were not chosen by blood or birthright, but by the prophecy of the Seer of All Ends. Myrren Kalith, bearer of the final flame."
"It was they who stood when the world was sick. It was they who opened the gates. And it is said when the Third Age breaks, new origins will rise up to save humanity."
"Four of the Seven vanished during the second generation. Only three remain accounted for, and even they are lost to myth."
He kept reading. Pages flipped quickly in his hands, each one layered with fragments of history, battles fought across rotting skies, rituals performed atop moving mountains, the forging of ancient strains. There were sketches of strange weapons and scars shaped like constellations. One page bore a name written in bold:
"Vaelen of the Fractured Star."
Gray paused.
A full-page sketch showed a tall figure cloaked in black with a jagged spear in one hand and a spiral wound etched into his chest. A fractured star glowed above his back, suspended like a halo.
Gray shivered.
Something about this figure felt... too familiar. He flipped another page but it was blank. The rest had been blackened out, burned, or deliberately torn.
He sighed and closed the book.
"Fascinated by myths, are you?"
The voice came from behind.
Gray turned and stiffened.
Korr Vane stood near the end of the row, arms folded. His expression was unreadable, but there was a faint gleam in his eye. The type that begged for trouble.
"Just reading," Gray said quietly.
"Looked intense for someone who couldn't handle a sparring match," Korr said.
Gray didn't answer. He started to walk past, but Korr stepped into his path.
"Surprised you can still walk, honestly. Heard you passed out after that last fight. Not exactly promising for a Rank Five."
"I'm not interested in a fight."
"Didn't ask," Korr said.
Gray's fingers clenched around the spine of the Origins book.
Korr tilted his head. "You've got potential, Gray. I'll admit it. But there's something off about you. Something even the instructors have noticed."
Gray stayed quiet.
Before Korr could take another step, a soft sound broke the tension.
A book closing.
They both turned.
Lira Cael sat in one of the corners, her legs crossed beneath her chair, a stack of reading material beside her. She hadn't been there moments ago, or maybe they'd just missed her.
"You two going to have a full on duel in the history section?" she asked, not looking up. "Because I'd rather not get my head sliced while I'm reading about flame territory behavior."
Korr clicked his tongue. "Relax. Just talking."
Gray nodded. "Right. Just talking."
Lira looked up at him. Her gaze lingered a moment too long. "You find anything interesting?"
Gray hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing useful."
Korr scoffed. "Fitting."
Gray was about to speak but was cut off.
Lira leaned back in her chair. "I'd say you're both annoying, but only one of you is loud."
Korr glared for a second but didn't respond. He turned and walked off without another word. Gray gave a faint nod to Lira and continued on his way.
He returned the books to the shelf, making sure to tuck the Hollow one behind a thick dictionary on magical fauna. Something told him that book wasn't meant to be seen again.
As he made his way toward the main corridor, the lights seemed brighter. The twisting sensation in the library faded. Voices of other students drifted in, faint and distant.
He let out a breath.
Before he walked out he looked back once more, but didnt see anything.
He narrowed his eyes before completely leaving.
Juat then, at the edge of the hallway, framed in the lanternlight near the entrance, stood a robed figure.
The same one from before.
Their features were obscured. No emblem on their cloak, but something about the way they stood… It reminded Gray of the broken pages in the Hollow book. Of the spiral. Of the prophecy.
They turned before he could say a word and vanished into another corridor.
He moved to the corridor Gray had been in a second ago and picked up the two books he had read.
He looked at them before with a silent flicker, burned them into ash.
He quickly disappeared, leaving nothing trace of himself and silence raided the corridor again.