----Page 2----
The forest was quiet after the fire. The smell of burnt wood and blood still lingered in the air.
Smoke drifted between the trees, soft and gray, like the ghosts of what we had done.
Lysera stood beside me, her blade still slick with the blood of slavers. She had not spoken since the last scream faded. Her silver hair was streaked with soot, but her storm-colored eyes were as sharp as ever.
I looked down at my hands, stained red. It did not feel real. A few hours ago, I was a prisoner. Now, I was free. But at what cost?
"Lysera," I said quietly.
"What exactly are you?"
She tilted her head slightly and regarded me calmly.
"I'm a Pageborn, born of the Chronicle of Origin. And it was you who summoned me."
"The book…" I pulled it from my side.
It was still faintly warm and almost alive.
It reacts to me. To my thoughts.
"That is its nature," she said, turning to face me fully.
"The Chronicle of Origin is no ordinary relic. It is a record of creation itself. Each page holds potential: life, power, memory. And you, Kinon, are its current bearer."
"Bearer," I repeated, my voice hollow.
You don't control the Chronicle," Lysera said, her eyes serious. "It chooses who it trusts. You earn its trust by growing stronger."
I frowned. "So… I can't just tell it what to do?"
"No," she said. "You guide it, not command it. And as its bearer, you have to complete every page of the Codex."
I swallowed. "Every page?"
Lysera nodded.
"Every challenge it holds, every story it contains. That's the only way the Chronicle can reach its full power and the only way you can grow."
I looked down at the faint mark on my forehead.
"So it's tied to me… my strength?"
"Exactly," she said.
"The Codex is part of you now. You can't ignore it."
"Growth," I echoed, half-laughing.
"What am I supposed to do, train with a sword?"
She frowned.
"If you wish to summon allies beyond me, yes. Power answers to strength. The Chronicle is bound by your mana, your resolve, your will to change the world."
I looked at the faint mark glowing on my forehead, shaped like an open page and flickering with gold.
"This is connected to it, isn't it?"
Lysera nodded.
"A seal. Proof that the Chronicle recognizes you. As your mana grows, so will its reach."
Her tone hardened.
"But do not rely solely on it. The Chronicle is both gift and burden. It grants power, but it also hungers for it. If you depend on it without understanding it, it will consume you."
"Consume me?" I whispered.
"Yes, Master!"
"Eh!? M–Master? Me?"
Lysera nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. From this moment on, I swear to protect you. As the first Pageborn you've ever summoned, that is my sole duty."
I blinked, trying to process it.
"Wait… if I complete all the pages in the Chronicle, what happens then?"
"The Codex will grant you any wish you desire. Power, wealth, anything," Lysera said calmly.
I blinked.
"So if I complete every page, I could just wish to go back home?"
She gave a faint, unreadable smile.
"Yes. But be careful, Master. The Codex does not give lightly. Every wish comes with a price."
It's too complicated, and I wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but the rustling of footsteps drew our attention.
I turned sharply, book in hand.
"Who's there?"
A thin figure stepped out from behind a tree. An elf boy, young and pale, his clothes torn but his eyes bright. He raised both hands quickly.
"Wait! I'm not one of them!"
I recognized him. He was one of the freed slaves. He had barely spoken during our captivity.
"You," I said.
"From the wagons."
He nodded nervously.
"Arin. My name's Arin. I followed you."
"Why?" Lysera's voice cut through the air.
"Do you seek protection or something else?"
Arin flinched but stood his ground.
"I don't know. I just didn't know where else to go."
"You should have," I said.
"You're free now. You don't have to follow me."
He lowered his gaze.
"Free? Maybe. But where would I go? I have no family left. No home. Even if I'm not bound by chains anymore, I'll just starve out there."
"Still," I said softly, "following me won't make your life any better. I'm not a hero. My path will lead to blood."
He smiled bitterly.
"Then what's the difference? I don't have a life to begin with. At least with you, I might find a reason to keep breathing."
Lysera's eyes flicked between us, unreadable.
"He has spirit. But spirit without strength is just another chain."
I studied Arin for a long moment. His hands trembled, but his gaze did not waver. Maybe he saw something in me, or maybe he was just desperate. Either way, I knew what it felt like to have nothing. Maybe that was reason enough.
"Fine," I said finally.
"But stay close."
He nodded quickly, relief flooding his face.
We walked in silence until the sun began to sink behind the hills. That's when Lysera stopped, her eyes scanning the ground.
"Below us," she said. "There's a mana disturbance."
A few steps later, we found ourselves standing before a massive cavern that looked like the entrance to a dungeon. Cold air drifted out from the darkness inside.
"Something powerful slumbers in this cave," Lysera said, her hand resting on her sword.
"A perfect place for you to train, Master."
"Huh!? Me? Train? No way!" I stammered, stepping back.
"That's impossible! I'll die before I even make it five steps in there!"
What kind of something is in there?" I asked.
"I-It's a cave dungeon. Grask usually drags slaves inside who have no value and cannot be sold." Arin said, voice shaking.
I froze. "Don't tell me…"
"They feed them to the monsters," Arin added, his hands trembling.
I stared at the dark cave for a long moment, thinking hard.
"Argh… alright! Let's do this!" I shouted, clenching my fists.
"I need to get stronger, no matter what."
Arin paled.
"Wait. Are you serious? We just escaped death, and you want to go down there?"
"Yes," Lysera said calmly.
"If Master intends to survive this world, he must grow. The Chronicle feeds on discovery. Every challenge conquered will awaken its deeper power."
She placed a hand on the glowing mark on my forehead. "You are still weak. That cannot continue."
I swallowed hard.
"Alright. Let's do it."
Lysera smirked faintly.
"At last, some resolve."
---
We descended into the earth through a narrow fissure hidden beneath tangled roots. The air was damp and heavy. Bioluminescent moss glowed faintly along the walls, painting everything in shades of blue and green.
The deeper we went, the louder a low hum became, like a heartbeat under stone. The Chronicle pulsed in my hands, eager.
"It's reacting," I said.
Lysera nodded.
"The Chronicle seeks knowledge. Whatever lies within these walls is meant to be found."
We reached a chamber filled with broken statues and ancient carvings. Warriors frozen mid-battle, their faces twisted in pain. In the center of the room, a pool of clear water reflected an eerie light.
Lysera raised her blade. "Stay alert."
A rumble echoed from the walls. Then the water moved.
From its depths rose a creature, serpentine and dark, scales like obsidian, eyes glowing molten gold. Mana rippled off its body in waves.
Arin stumbled back. "We can't fight that!"
Lysera's voice was calm. "You're right. You can't. But he can."
"Me?" I pointed at myself.
"You carry the Chronicle," she said.
"Your will commands its strength. Use it."
"I don't even know how!"
"Then learn." Her tone cut through my fear like steel.
The beast lunged. I threw up my arms instinctively. The Chronicle flared open, its pages glowing white. Symbols I couldn't read spun around us, forming a barrier that caught the creature's strike. My arms shook under the force.
Lysera moved like lightning. Her sword sliced across the beast's flank, cutting through scales like paper. It roared, snapping its tail toward her, but she was faster.
"Focus, Master!" she shouted.
"The book answers thought, intent. Command it!"
"I... I don't want to die!" I screamed.
The Chronicle's pages exploded with light. A spear of energy tore through the air, striking the beast in the chest. It let out a final shriek before collapsing, its body dissolving into black mist.
Silence returned. I fell to my knees, panting. "Did I do that?"
Lysera sheathed her blade. "You did. Barely."
Arin approached slowly, eyes wide.
"That was insane. You really did it."
The Chronicle floated between us, still glowing faintly. On its pages, faint golden letters appeared, but vanished before I could read them.
"What did it say?" I asked.
Lysera's voice softened.
"It learns as you do. Every battle, every choice, it records your growth."
Arin hesitated, glancing at the book.
"Then what about me? Does it record me too?"
I looked at him, unsure how to answer. Lysera's gaze lingered on him. Her expression was unreadable.
"If the Chronicle deems you worthy, it will."
---
We made camp near the dungeon's entrance that night. Cause only fools will continue without proper preparation before descending deeper the dungeon cave.
Lysera stood scanning the surroundings for potential threat.
Before i forgot Master! she approach and handed over a battered sword.
"Its better than nothing". She said.
"Where did you get it?" I ask her.
"Remember those statues before one of those stones, might be the owner of that blade. Used it." She replied.
Meanwhile, Arin sat by the fire, staring at his hands.
And then, He spoke quietly.
"Back at the camp… I knew Rynn would betray you. I heard him whispering to the warden. But I didn't say anything.
I... I was too afraid."
I didn't answer. The crackling fire filled the space between us.
He continued, his voice breaking.
"I thought if I just stayed quiet, I'd live. But everyone died anyway. And I did nothing."
I looked at him then, seeing not weakness but guilt, heavy and real.
Before I could speak, the Chronicle stirred in my lap. Its pages flipped open by themselves, glowing faintly in the firelight.
Arin's reflection shimmered on the parchment. Words began to write themselves.
Arin's eyes widened.
"What's happening?"
Light engulfed him, and suddenly I saw flashes, memories not my own. A young elf laughing with his sister. A quill in hand. Books piled high. Then fire, screams, the sound of chains. His hands trembling as he burned his last manuscript.
I gasped, clutching the book.
"Arin… I can see everything."
He stared at me, tears forming.
"Then you know what I've done."
"Yeah," I said softly.
"And I know why you're still here."
The Chronicle closed gently, the glow fading.
Lysera glanced at it, faintly approving.
"The book recognizes him. Another soul bound by your path."
She turned to me, her tone calm yet commanding.
"Master, one thing you must know. The Chronicle's pages are unlimited. Their number grows with your strength. The more your mana and resolve deepen, the more pages awaken, and the more lives you can bind within it."
Her gaze softened slightly. "Your story is still being written. So write it well."
Arin looked between us, unsure.
"So… I'm part of this now?"
I hesitated before answering. Part of me feared what the Chronicle could do, what it might demand. But another part, the part that remembered chains and blood, saw in Arin what I once was. Someone clinging to one last chance.
"You are," I said finally.
"Let's make it worth reading."