Chapter 7: A Glint of Light
The Nevermore library was a cavern of forgotten whispers, its air thick with the scent of aged parchment and a faint metallic tang that pricked Oliver Smoak's senses, echoing the catacombs' residue and the gem's pulse. Towering shelves loomed like sentinels, their shadows dancing under flickering gas lamps, casting a labyrinth of light and dark across the worn wooden floor.
Oliver's boots scuffed softly as he wandered the aisles, hazel eyes catching a trail of shimmering glitter sparkling like scattered stars. It pulsed with chaotic magic, distinct from the sterile hum of the compass in his pocket, its needle still spinning wildly from Glint's earlier antics.
[SYSTEM: The Burrower Seeks What Gleams. Follow the Trail of Glitter and Chaos.]
The riddle echoed in his mind, its mocking tone sparking irritation and amusement. I'm chasing glitter. My life's a fever dream. Next, it'll be a unicorn farting rainbows. His fingers brushed his tie, a nervous tic, as the metallic scent sharpened, his pulse quickening, tying to the Serpent's cryptic warning.
Eldric's out there plotting, and I'm on a magical scavenger hunt. Typical. The library's silence pressed in, broken only by the rustle of pages and the faint hum of magic, a thread linking to the gem and the catacombs' danger.
A sharp squeak pierced the quiet, followed by a clatter of falling books. Oliver rounded a shelf, heart lurching, to find a small, black creature burrowing in a pile of tomes, its sleek fur gleaming, eyes alight with mischief. A Niffler?
The creature—Glint, he'd later name it—darted away, leaving a fresh glitter trail, its tiny paws a blur. "Hey, wait!" Oliver hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid attention. His lanky frame stumbled over a stray book, crashing into a chair with a loud groan.
He lunged, tripping over his own feet, his clumsy Accio spell summoning a stack of dusty novels that toppled onto his head with a muffled thud. The chase was a comedy of errors—slipping boots, flailing arms, Glint dodging with infuriating ease, squeaking like a rusty hinge.
[SYSTEM: Clumsy Conjurer, Remember Your Purpose. Empathy, Not Force.]
The jab stung, but Oliver laughed, brushing a book off his face. I'm losing to a glorified magpie. New low. Glint popped its head from behind a shelf, beady eyes judging his lack of grace, and he felt a strange fondness.
It's a menace, but it's my menace. Glint's chaos was a bright spot against Eldric's shadow, a reminder of life beyond the System's cold commands, tying to Enid's warmth in the dorm.
He paused, catching his breath, the library's air heavy with dust and magic. Empathy, huh? He thought of Enid's gummy bears, her unwavering faith despite her family's pressure. His instincts urged gentleness over force.
He fished a copper coin from his pocket, its surface glinting under the lamp. "C'mere, little guy," he said softly, kneeling, voice warm. Glint froze, nose twitching, eyes locked on the coin.
It scampered closer, squeaking, snatching the coin and polishing it with meticulous paws. Oliver grinned, heart lightening, the connection immediate. It's like me—chasing something shiny, not sure why.
The System's hum softened, a warm pulse in his mind:
[SYSTEM: Companion Bond Initiated. Sanctuary Unlocked.]
The library's shadows softened, the metallic tang less oppressive. Glint wasn't a tool; it was a partner, chaotic and real, tying to Enid's empathy and grounding him in Nevermore's maze.
Glint nuzzled his hand, then rummaged in its pouch, producing a tarnished copper compass, its needle spinning wildly. Oliver's breath caught, fingers trembling as he took it, the metal cold and heavy, its craftsmanship matching the cursed gem.
[SYSTEM: Artifact Found: Eldric's Tracker. Requires Calibration.]
Oliver laughed, exasperation and amusement mixing. It played me. This was the goal. The compass's hum synced with his pulse, pointing to Eldric's lair, a key to the Serpent's mystery.
Glint burrowed into his jacket pocket, a warm, fuzzy weight, its purr a quiet comfort. The library's silence pressed in, the glitter trail fading, but Oliver's mind raced. I need to fix this compass. Who can help?
The System was silent, the question heavy, tying to the gem's hum and the catacombs' danger. Enid's fighting her family's expectations, and I'm chasing a kleptomaniac rat. We're both messes, but we're trying.
"Glint's my new best friend, and that's saying something in this nightmare school. The compass, the gem—they're Eldric's trail, and I'm following it. The System's playing me, but I'm playing back. Enid's struggling too, and I can't tell her about this. The Serpent's out there, and so is Eldric. I'm not just a Host; I'm Oliver, and I'm not failing this level."
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