⋱⌘⋰ Lore Scrap ⋱⌘⋰
"You cannot unread what was written in you."
⋯⋱⧉⋰⋯
The vault door whispered shut behind them. Eira and Finnian stood at the threshold of The Unbound Wing, the corridor behind them erased by the seal's unraveling. "Did you see that?" Finnian whispered. "She smiled. The woman—she looked at you like she knew your name." Eira didn't answer.
Because the woman hadn't looked like a stranger.
She had looked like a version of Eira who had never left the ink behind.
The stacks were shifting — not physically, but in memory. The stacks around them shifted — not physically, but in memory. Like they remembered her differently now.
And in the book — Julian's voice came not just as words.
It came as blame.
They reached a circular chamber, cracked with age, ringed in whisperglass. At its centre: a pedestal. And atop it: a book. Open. Alive. It breathed — not in air, but in recognition. Eira stepped forward slowly. Finnian lingered by the edge of the chamber, uneasy. "Eira, maybe we should wait for Cael—" "He's already coming." Her voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. The book turned a page. Names. Dates. Half-legible entries from old Sorters. Then — her name. Not inked. Etched. "To my sister, Eira. If you're reading this, I failed. I couldn't hold it back. I tried—" Julian's voice came from the book. Twisted by time. But still him. Eira's knees buckled. She caught the pedestal, barely upright. "You left me," the voice whispered. "You let them seal me in." The pages turned to fire. Ink-fire — dark silver, hot as betrayal. Her ink-binding flared. The memory inside the book fought to overwrite her. Behind her, footsteps. Cael. He reached her as she cried out, hand pressed to the book. "You are not a whisper," he said. "You are not what they left behind." He placed his gloved hand over hers. The flame licked upward — then snuffed out. The book dissolved into ash. Eira collapsed. Cael caught her before she hit the floor. "He was inside," she whispered. "Still remembering." "The Library doesn't forget," Cael said softly. "But sometimes… it hides." She looked at him. "What else is it hiding from me?" Far below, the contract seal on her ink-binding cracked. Just a thread. But enough. Enough for the Library to notice.
⋯⋱⧉⋰⋯
To be continued…
⸻ ❖ Archive Fragment ❖ ⸻ Some bindings are made to be broken.
⋱❂⋰ The Whisper Fades ⋱❂⋰
— End of Volume —