"Ugh…"
I slowly blinked my eyes open, the world flickering in and out of focus.
The sterile white walls of the infirmary hit me first. The faint smell of antiseptic invaded my nose, and my head felt like a pounding war drum.
It all felt nauseating.
Then came the warmth of sunlight filtered through the window. A soft breeze followed, fluttering through the curtains. It calmed down my nerves, if only a little.
'Where… am I?'
The question crawled its way to the surface of my sluggish mind.
I tried to move, but my body screamed in protest. The chains that had held me were gone, but the pain lingered, leaving my body numb.
'Wait, chains.'
My hand shot up to my forehead, trembling as it moved. I traced every inch of skin, expecting torn flesh, exposed bone—something.
But there was nothing.
No scar. No wound.
Not even blood.
'What happened?'
The last thing I remembered was the chains… the needles… the crushing weight dragging me down.
I should be dead.
But I wasn't.
A shadow fell over me.
My eyes snapped toward the figure standing at the foot of the bed. I scanned him from head to toe.
Even without seeing his face clearly, I knew who it was.
The silver insignia of a snarling wolf etched across his chest gave him away.
'Vanric Duskgrave. The Black Wolf.'
That was the name of the man who stood before me. Captain of one of the twelve royal squads of the Pendragon Empire, and a living weapon in human skin.
He was the one who escorted us to the library earlier.
The air seemed to grow heavier as he spoke, voice low and steady.
"You're awake."
I blinked, swallowing the bitter dryness in my throat. "Yeah… where exactly is this?"
He stepped closer, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The infirmary, you fainted."
Fainted? That's what they thought happened?
So... no one saw what actually occurred inside the library?
"Passed out, huh?" I said, smiling faintly. "Guess I'm more delicate than I thought."
He snorted at my reply, just barely. "Maybe or maybe not."
He crossed his arms, his eyes scanning me like a field commander sizing up a new recruit. "Shadow and psychic elements. Rare and deadly, if wielded properly."
He paused.
"But only three rings," he added. His voice felt a bit colder now.
"Low potential. People will underestimate you. Most of them won't be wrong."
I stared up at him, chest rising and falling with shallow, pained breaths. I gave him no answer, I had none.
He turned to leave, boots clicking softly against the stone floor.
"But," he added a last line over his shoulder, "if you can learn to control what you've been given... come find me. The Midnight Wolves always have use for those who move in silence."
Thud~!
The door shut behind him with a quiet thud.
And just like that, I was alone.
I laid there for what felt like hours.
The sunlight gave way to night. The room grew quiet and cold.
I didn't move.
Didn't speak.
I just… stared at the ceiling, with wide-open eyes, and a mind sinking deeper into thoughts.
Blankly.
Not because I was tired. Not because I was healing.
But because I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to feel.
I had somehow gotten myself stuck inside a novel.
And if that wasn't enough, I had nearly died the moment I arrived.
Or at least, something close to it.
I felt my brain get pierced. I heard my bones crack, and I watched my body get shredded by that cursed golden grimoire.
That wasn't imagination. That wasn't some twisted vision.
That was real.
And yet here I was, alive and breathing.
But my mind was filled with questions.
'How did I get here?'
'What were those chains?'
'What was that grimoire?'
I had no answers.
And I hated that.
And lastly, 'Why did I have two hearts?'
I could feel them, clear as day, beating in opposite corners of my chest.
Thump!
A low, slow pulse echoed in my ears.
Thump!
One from the left.
One from the right.
I pressed my palm gently against my chest.
Ba… Thump! Ba… Thump!
Two separate rhythms were beating inside my chest.
"Hah..."
I stared at the ceiling again, my fingers still resting over my hearts, lost in thoughts.
Ding—!
Suddenly a high-pitched sound pierced the silence. It echoed unnaturally through the quiet infirmary.
My body jolted instinctively.
Was that a bell?
No, it came from my pocket.
Ding—!
It rang again.
Mechanical and out of place.
My hand instinctively reached into my pocket. I felt something cold and heavy inside just the size of my palm.
I pulled it out.
A sleek, black smartphone with a cracked screen appeared before my eyes.
But whose? Definitely not mine, and in this medieval world of cards and grimoires, something like this didn't even exist.
Ding—!
The screen lit up once more, displaying a single glowing message.
{I hope you liked my surprise.
Oh, you poor soul, always searching for answers.
Lived a life already, but could find none. I welcome you.
Do you want answers? I have them.
Come find me, my dear reader.
~ Your Favourite Author}
'Favourite author?'
I didn't even know this guy. Hell, the novel I read was inside a waterlogged dumpster, which I entered to escape from a shopkeeper from whom I had stolen food.
And worst of all? I never even finished it. The pages were torn and soaked in water, unreadable at all.
But then it rang out again.
Ding—!
{GOAL: Reach The Epilogue.
Remaining Time: 7 years}
My eyes stayed glued to the screen for far longer than I could remember. And then the screen darkened once again, leaving me alone in silence.
tick
A soft, mechanical sound echoed in my mind.
tick... tick
Each beat drilled deeper, as if it weren't a sound, but a pulse embedded in my skull.
tick—tick—tick
Faster now. Louder.
Like a clock sprinting toward its own destruction.
Tick! Tick! Tick! Tick!
It wasn't just a sound anymore..
'It was a countdown.'
And as the reality of it all seeped in…
As I laid there in the stillness of night…
As I stared at a phone that shouldn't exist and hearts that shouldn't beat…
Only three words escaped past my trembling lips.
"Damn The Author"