Auren's footsteps echoed softly along the long corridor she had been walking through since leaving the library. She had been walking for a long time. She didn't know how much time had passed because the corridor felt endless. Time in that place seemed to move without direction, melting like a shadow losing its shape.
Auren looked ahead.
No light.
No change in the walls.
Only darkness growing thicker and colder.
Each breath she drew felt like inhaling the night wind from a mountain peak. She hugged herself slowly, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. For some reason, the farther she walked, the colder the air wrapped around her body.
She had turned back many times, trying to confirm that the library was really far behind her. But all she saw was a depth of darkness that swallowed everything. She couldn't tell which way was forward and which was back if not for the direction of her own steps.
She tried to convince herself she was just too tense. But the feeling didn't fade. She felt as if something was watching her from behind the darkness following her every step but never approaching. The silence around her was so thick she could hear the faint rumble of her own heartbeat.
She kept walking.
A few minutes.
Or maybe longer.
But she didn't stop.
Standing still in the darkness felt far more terrifying than walking forward without knowing what waited ahead.
After a stretch of time she could no longer measure, something finally changed. In the distance, a tiny point of light appeared. Very faint, almost like an illusion formed by exhaustion. Auren slowed her pace, watching it carefully.
The light flickered softly.
Then another point appeared beside it.
Then another.
And another.
Forming a long row, like a glowing path.
She quickened her steps, though tension still clung to her body.
As she drew nearer, the row became clear. Candles. Dozens of candles burning steadily, aligned neatly on both sides of the corridor. Auren felt a slight warmth from their flames, but strangely, the flames did not move at all. There was no wind. The fire stood still as if forced to remain perfectly upright.
An uneasy feeling crawled up her chest.
She recognized this place.
She had seen candles lined like this before.
She had walked through a corridor lit exactly like this.
The memory surfaced like an old wound torn open.
Auren halted between the candlelight, then slowly moved forward again. She occasionally glanced right and left, making sure nothing moved among the shadows. Yet the silence itself made the place feel even more frightening.
Not long after, a memory struck her.
A memory of that room.
A room she never wanted to return to.
That place... The Silent Halls.
Auren held her breath. The memory of what happened there made her palms sweat. Her body shivered even though she stood surrounded by bright candlelight.
She wanted to turn back.
She wanted to run.
But before she could move, the sound came.
A sound from the end of the corridor. A sound that made her stomach tighten as if gripped by an invisible hand.
A roar.
A massive, deep roar.
The same roar she once heard in The Silent Halls.
Auren froze.
She couldn't move her legs.
She couldn't turn around.
She couldn't scream.
The sound drew closer.
The creature's heavy steps seemed to echo from every direction, making the candles tremble slightly. There was nowhere to hide. No door. No escape.
Auren could only stand there, breath caught, eyes wide with fear.
When the sound felt like it was right behind her, the small book she was carrying suddenly glowed.
The guidebook opened by itself.
Its light burst brightly, swallowing the entire corridor.
Auren instinctively shut her eyes.
In an instant, the entire world vanished.
Silence replaced the roaring.
When Auren opened her eyes, she was already somewhere else. Still inside the castle, she was sure of that. But the room was much taller, much wider, and much colder than the corridor before. The air felt heavy, as if it carried something inexplicable.
The guidebook in her hand was still open.
Its pages moved on their own, then began writing.
The words appeared slowly, like fresh ink seeping into the page:
>"You are too fragile
Walk further
Long steps are your key
Only those who do not stop
shall find the answers"
The words faded, then vanished.
The book closed by itself, returning to being an ordinary book.
Auren stared at it, unsure what she should feel.
Confused.
Afraid.
Angry.
Or perhaps all of it swirling together until she couldn't tell them apart.
She gripped the guidebook tighter, searching for meaning in everything that had just happened.
---
Somewhere else.
A room far from where Auren stood.
The room was silent like the bottom of the ocean. Pale light from a lamp on the ceiling reflected off the black stone table that stretched almost the entire length of the chamber. The chairs lining its sides were occupied by figures sitting in different postures, but each radiated a presence difficult to describe. As if each carried a long history behind the words they had yet to speak.
No one spoke first.
The air felt like it was waiting for someone to break it deliberately.
The man sitting at the center of the table appeared calm. Too calm. He felt like the gravitational center of the room, making everyone unconsciously avoid meeting his eyes. His gaze was cold but controlled, and he never moved without purpose.
When a voice finally rose, it came from the left side of the table.
A man with dark red hair slowly straightened his posture. His hair fell past his shoulders like dying embers hiding a glowing red underneath. His eyes glimmered orange each time he blinked, as if flames burned just behind his irises.
"Why are we still letting this continue?"
His voice was rough, low, dripping with dissatisfaction.
"We all come. He never comes. How long are we going to pretend that isn't a problem?"
Several heads turned. Some looked annoyed, others simply avoided confrontation but no one answered.
Silence choked the room again.
The man at the center finally shifted his gaze, moving slowly as if giving the tension room to grow.
"What is it you really want?"
His voice was calm but sharp like a midnight chill.
The red-haired man gave a small laugh.
It wasn't warm.
Nor funny.
It was the sound of someone who had held something in too long and was finally letting it out.
"It's time we enforce rules for those who ignore this meeting."
He leaned back, giving a thin smile.
"Or at least consequences. This gathering hasn't been respected for a long time."
A subtle change rippled through the air.
As if the room tightened.
As if the pressure deepened like the weight beneath the sea.
Several others lowered their heads, wanting no part in the dangerous direction this conversation was taking.
The man in the center did not avert his eyes.
"Do you know whom you're speaking of?"
His words fell like heavy stones on the floor.
"He is the strongest among us."
The red-haired man smirked at that.
"Being the strongest doesn't mean he can do anything he wants."
His eyes narrowed, flames seeming to spark within them.
"And you of all people here, are the one who can make him obey."
The man at the center remained emotionless. But something very faint flickered in his gaze.
A brief spark behind dark clouds.
"You're forcing something unnecessary."
His voice lowered.
"Do not try to create fractures that could cost us."
The red-haired man leaned forward slightly.
"Balance won't break if everyone plays their part."
His smile faded into a flat line.
"You know I'm right."
Silence dropped again, heavier this time as if the room itself held its breath.
The man at the center straightened his back. A sign his patience was thinning.
"Enough."
His voice rose just a little, but its echo lingered through the room like an unseen wave.
"Stop this reckless thinking. We are not looking for enemies."
He looked directly at the red-haired man, his eyes sharper now.
The words went unchallenged.
For several seconds, no one moved.
"This meeting is over."
"You may leave."
Chairs shifted softly as the participants stood and left one by one, their steps careful, as though afraid to make too much noise.
But the red-haired man remained still.
He didn't head toward the door.
He stood, staring at the man at the center, breath heavy with frustration.
"Stubborn fool."
He muttered, bitterness completely unhidden.
He finally turned, walked out, and shut the door with a harsh echo that lingered long after.
The man at the center was now alone.
The vast room felt emptier than before.
He lowered his gaze, placing both hands on the cold black stone surface.
Would everything turn out well?
No answer came.
Only a long shadow stretching before him.
"He has a point."
He whispered to himself.
"Perhaps I should send him a letter."
And the room fell back into silence.