Leona opened her eyes.
Everything was still.
No wind. No rustling. No sound.
It was as if time itself had been frozen.
The only thing she could clearly sense was a smell.
Old paper.
But beneath it was something else. Something unexpected.
Blueberry? Or was her mind just playing tricks on her?
The scent felt strangely familiar, though she couldn't remember why.
Her surroundings slowly became clearer.
They looked strange and distorted, like something out of a dream.
Bookshelves stretched into the distance, their outlines flickering at the edges of her vision.
She could barely make out the spines of countless books, some yellowed and ancient, others glowing in strange colors.
She rubbed her eyes, but the image stayed the same.
Sensation returned to her body.
She was lying on her back, arms slightly spread.
Her fingers were curled, as if she had just let go of something that was no longer there.
The floor beneath her felt cool and smooth, like frozen water.
A shiver ran through her even though she wasn't cold.
She lay there for a while.
Above her was neither a ceiling nor a sky.
Only a bright, endless emptiness stretching into infinity.
Eventually, she lifted her head.
Her body felt strangely light.
The floor made no sound as she sat up.
Only now did she notice that it wasn't perfectly smooth.
Fine lines ran across it, some jagged like cracks, others so precise they looked like carved markings.
She couldn't read them, but something about them felt important.
Still groggy, she looked around.
Everything looked the same.
Shelf after shelf.
Some boards were crooked.
Others looked like they were breathing.
She stared into the endless pattern of shelves, unable to tell whether she was still dreaming or had lost her mind.
A chill ran down her spine as she tried to tear her gaze away from the unsettling rhythm of the shelves.
The room was breathing.
Not loudly.
More like it didn't want her to notice.
Then something moved in the distance.
A dragging sound broke the silence.
A cold breath brushed past her ear.
Startled, she stepped back and bumped into a shelf.
The wood felt unexpectedly warm. Almost alive.
For a moment she was sure it had flinched beneath her touch.
She stood still.
Heard nothing.
Felt only her racing heartbeat.
"Hmm?"
A voice.
Leona flinched.
It was low and scratchy, and so close it seemed to speak directly into her ear.
She held her breath.
Slowly, she turned toward where she thought the sound had come from.
Her eyes scanned the bookshelf.
Nothing.
Had she imagined it?
"Is... is someone there?" she called out, her voice shaking.
Only a drawn-out echo answered her
....someone... one... one...
Or had something in the distance responded?
The wooden shelves began to creak.
At first softly, then louder and louder.
Leona raised her hands to her face, her fingers cold and weak.
"Stop... please... stop."
But again, only the echo came back.
...stop... stop... stop...
It no longer came only from the room.
It was as if it echoed inside her.
Her knees gave way and she collapsed to the floor, hands catching her fall as she gasped for breath.
Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, barely able to breathe.
"What do you want from me? Why am I here?"
She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the ground.
"I need to wake up. Please... let me wake up."
Then it happened.
A deep, calm breeze swept through the room.
Pages rustled gently.
A book nearby had opened on its own.
Its cover was made of dark leather, and a symbol embossed in gold shimmered on it.
Three vertical lines.
A soft, steady voice filled her thoughts.
"I am sorry you had to wait, Leona. There were... unexpected matters that required my full attention."
Leona didn't move.
The echo in her mind had gone quiet.
She kept her eyes closed, still lying on the floor, waiting to hear more.
"My name is Caelan. I am your guide. Do not be afraid."
Unsure whether she was imagining it, she slowly opened her eyes.
The book still lay open before her.
Its pages were blank.
Had it been there before?
Maybe it had fallen when she bumped into the shelf.
Before she could think further, the space next to her darkened for the briefest moment.
A cloak passed through the edge of her vision.
A figure leaned down beside her.
A pale hand with long, bony fingers reached toward the book.
It didn't touch it, just hovered above the blank pages for a second.
Then it gently closed the book and picked it up.
Leona still lay motionless.
"Do you know where I am?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
There was a pause.
It felt like he was waiting, as if expecting more.
"You are asking the wrong question," he finally said.
"Then... what is the right one?"
"Why you are here."
"I don't know..."
Caelan looked at her and took a slow step forward.
"You will understand. But not yet. And not through my words."
With unexpected grace, he knelt beside her and extended his hand.
Leona hesitated.
She looked at his hand.
The skin was pale, almost translucent.
"If I take it..." she began, unable to finish the thought.
"You will rise and walk."
His voice was soft and steady.
So calm and reassuring that the last of her resistance quietly faded.