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The door clicked shut behind her.
Celine von Revola walked down the stairs with steps that felt lighter than they had in years. Not because her body was healed (Master Velgrin had already done that) but because something inside her chest had loosened. The knot that had been there since childhood, the one made of fear and duty and the desperate need to be seen, had started to unravel.
Each wooden step creaked softly beneath her boots as she reached the first floor.
The haunted bookstore stood exactly as she remembered it. Shadows pooled in the corners. The black-glass windows showed no reflections. Tall shelves lined the walls, their books untouched and silent. The air smelled of old parchment and dark wood, with a faint metallic edge that reminded her of swords left out in the rain.
Celine stopped in the center of the room. She stood straight, hands folded behind her back, and closed her eyes.
She breathed.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
Behind her, footsteps descended at a slower pace.
Levi Warwick adjusted the cuffs of his coat as he came down, his thoughts still circling the therapy session. Celine's voice when it broke. The tears. The way she'd finally said the thing she'd been carrying alone for thirteen years.
Abandonment. That kind of fear didn't just hurt; it burned all the way through. She'd built her entire life around making sure no one could leave her behind again.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and saw her waiting. In the soft morning light filtering through the stained glass, she looked different. Taller somehow, though her height hadn't changed. It was her posture. The way she held herself.
Celine turned at his approach. Her eyes were still red, but they were clearer now. Brighter.
She bowed slightly.
"Mr. Levi."
Levi raised an eyebrow. "Just Mr. Levi now? Not Grandmaster?"
A small smile tugged at her lips. "I thought I'd try to respect your preference. At least when I'm not panicking."
He let out a breath that might have been a laugh. "Good. Because if I hear 'Grandmaster' one more time, I'm jumping out a window."
Celine giggled, the sound soft and genuine.
Levi's tone shifted, becoming gentler. "You've named your fear. That's a start. But naming something doesn't make it disappear."
He walked past her toward the front desk.
Celine followed.
"You said earlier that you wanted to protect people," Levi continued. "That you needed strength to do it."
She nodded. "Yes."
"Then it's time we give your story a different direction."
He reached the tall black desk and walked behind it. The golden-engraved panel on the wall shimmered faintly.
"But," Celine hesitated, "before we do that..."
Levi paused and glanced back at her.
"Do you still accept me as your disciple?"
Levi blinked.
Even after everything. After the tears and the therapy and peeling herself open in front of a stranger, she still clung to this idea like it was the only solid thing left.
He sighed quietly, then nodded once.
"Yes."
Celine's breath caught. Her knees almost buckled. "Thank you, Mr. Levi. Thank you."
She looked down at her hands as if checking they were still hers, then wiped the corner of her eye and straightened up.
Levi's mouth twitched. He turned back to the wall. "No ceremonies. Just follow me."
He placed his palm on the dark panel. Magic hummed through the wood. The wall shifted with a soft click, and a seamless door revealed itself.
Golden light spilled out from the gap.
Celine's mouth fell open.
That wasn't just light. It had weight. Presence. Like standing before the gates of something holy.
"What is this place?" she whispered.
Levi pushed the door open fully. "The true Library."
Without another word, he stepped into the light.
Celine hesitated for only a heartbeat before following.
.
.
.
The golden glow enveloped them completely.
Celine felt weightless for a moment, suspended between one breath and the next. The light pressed against her skin like warm water, gentle but insistent. Then her boots touched solid ground again.
The light faded.
She opened her eyes.
The world had changed.
They stood in the true Library of Noctis.
Gone was the haunted bookstore with its cold floors and dark windows. This place existed on a scale that defied understanding. The ceiling stretched upward into infinity, so high that the top disappeared into darkness punctuated by distant points of light that might have been stars or might have been something else entirely.
Massive pillars rose in perfect rows, carved from black stone that seemed to drink in the light around them. Their surfaces were etched with symbols that moved when she stopped looking directly at them, flowing like water across rock. Between the pillars, floating lanterns drifted overhead, casting soft amber light that created pools of warmth in an otherwise vast darkness.
The floor beneath her boots was smooth obsidian, so perfectly polished she could see her reflection. But the reflection didn't quite match. It moved a fraction of a second slower, as if time itself bent differently here.
And the shelves.
Gods, the shelves.
They stretched in every direction, defying geometry and common sense. Some rose straight upward like towers piercing the void. Others curved sideways like bridges spanning impossible distances. A few spiraled downward into wells so deep she couldn't see the bottom. Several rotated slowly on invisible axes, their books never falling despite the motion.
Books covered every surface. Leather-bound tomes thick as her arm. Glass cases holding volumes that pulsed with faint light. Scrolls sealed with wax that glowed like dying embers. Some books were wrapped in chains that hummed softly, barely containing whatever power lay inside.
The walls (if they could be called walls) shimmered with moving images. Constellations that rearranged themselves as she watched. Murals depicting battles, lovers embracing, cities rising and falling, heroes climbing mountains made entirely of books. The images never stayed still. They shifted and changed, telling stories that had no beginning or end.
A river of liquid silver flowed between distant rows of shelves. Its surface reflected constellations that didn't exist in any sky Celine had ever seen. The water made no sound as it moved, flowing upward in some places, sideways in others, following rules that belonged to this place alone.
Somewhere far away, pages turned by themselves. The sound was soft but clear, echoing through the vast space like a heartbeat.
Celine stood frozen, unable to process what she was seeing.
"This is..." Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Levi kept walking, hands in his coat pockets. "The Library of Noctis. The real one."
She followed automatically, her boots clicking softly against the obsidian floor.
"It doesn't follow normal rules," Levi said. "Space, time, logic. Don't try to understand the layout. It's not built for understanding."
Celine glanced at a distant shelf that seemed to fold in on itself like origami made from reality. Books disappeared into its center, then reappeared somewhere else entirely, as if traveling through dimensions she couldn't perceive.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
Levi nodded without slowing. "It's also dangerous."
She turned to him. "Dangerous?"
He stopped and looked back at her. "You're not a guest anymore. You're a Patron."
A moment of silence passed between them.
"Like Master Velgrin?" she asked quietly.
"Exactly like him."
Celine didn't know whether to feel honored or terrified.
Levi started walking again. "Come on. We're going deeper."
They moved through aisles that curved like the ribs of some great beast. Past pedestals holding books so ancient they looked fossilized, their pages turned to stone. Past chained volumes that rattled softly as they passed, as if trying to speak words they'd been forbidden to say.
The deeper they went, the more the Library changed around them.
The air grew colder and sharper, carrying scents that shifted with each breath: plum wine, incense, pine forests after rain, smoke from distant fires. The light shifted from warm amber to pale blue, then to colors that had no names. The temperature dropped until Celine could see her breath misting in front of her face.
Then the architecture transformed completely.
The black stone gave way to something else. The floor beneath their feet became jade, veined with gold that pulsed faintly. The air filled with the scent of cherry blossoms even though no trees were visible.
A floating platform appeared before them, hovering above a staircase that spiraled down into darkness. The platform was made of brass and glass that caught the light like captured stars, its surface etched with more of those flowing symbols.
Levi stepped onto it without hesitation. "Come."
Celine obeyed, her heart pounding.
The platform hummed beneath her feet the moment she stepped on. Then it lifted without warning.
She gasped and grabbed the railing. The ground fell away as they rose, cutting through the air in perfect silence. Bookshelves blurred past on all sides, moving so fast they became streaks of color. Arcane rings passed overhead, each one glowing with symbols that burned themselves into her vision before she could look away.
Higher they rose. Faster.
The Library opened around them like some impossible flower blooming in reverse, revealing layer after layer of endless knowledge stored in forms she couldn't begin to comprehend.
Then, just as suddenly, stillness.
The platform stopped.
Celine looked up and forgot how to breathe.
A palace made of mist and jade stretched before them.
It shouldn't have been possible. They were inside the Library, she knew that, but this place looked like it belonged in the heavens. Cherry blossoms drifted through the air despite the complete absence of any trees, their petals glowing faintly as they fell. Tall rooftops curved upward in elegant arcs, their tiles shining with the luster of mother-of-pearl. Red pillars carved with intricate dragons flanked a massive gate that stood open, inviting them forward.
Music played somewhere in the distance. The soft, haunting sound of a zither carried on wind that tasted like spring and smelled of plum blossoms.
"Is this... a Library floor?" Celine asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Levi nodded. "Each floor takes the shape of the books it holds. This one contains cultivation novels. Martial epics. Stories about immortals and the dao."
He walked toward the gate. "It's deeper in."
Celine followed, too overwhelmed to do anything else.
They passed through gardens where lotus flowers bloomed in midair, their roots dangling in nothing. Through halls lined with scroll towers that reached toward clouds made of compressed knowledge, each one humming with stored wisdom. Past floating swords impaled through glowing manuscripts, each blade sealed with power so intense she could feel it pressing against her skin.
The deeper they moved, the colder the air became. Not hostile, but sharper. Like walking along the edge of a blade wrapped in silk.
Finally, in a small alcove carved into what looked like a scholar's meditation chamber, Levi stopped.
The alcove was simple compared to everything else they'd passed. Three walls of dark wood, a floor of smooth stone, and a single shelf holding perhaps three dozen books. But something about this place felt different. Quieter. More focused.
Levi turned to the shelf and ran his fingers along the spines with careful deliberation. His hand stopped on one particular volume.
A clean white hardcover, pristine and untouched.
The shelf responded to his touch, and the book floated forward into his waiting hand.
He studied it for a long moment in silence.
Romance cultivation novel. Not what I usually go for, but the protagonist's arc fits. Woman who severed her emotions to gain power, then slowly learns to feel again through connection with someone who doesn't demand anything from her.
He glanced at Celine, who stood a few paces away, watching him with quiet reverence.
She's built the same kind of walls. Different reasons, same isolation. Keeps everyone at arm's length because she's terrified they'll leave. This story might show her another way.
He turned the book over in his hands, examining the simple white cover.
Celine stood still a few paces away, her eyes reflecting the soft white glow of the book's surface.
"What's inside?" she asked.
Levi's answer came quietly. "A story that suits you."
She blinked. "How do you know?"
"Because I've read enough of them to know which ones fit which people." He stepped closer and held out the book with both hands. "This one will challenge you. But I think you're ready for it."
Celine hesitated. "Is it dangerous?"
Levi tilted his head slightly. "All good stories are."
That made her smile, just a little.
She reached out.
The instant her fingers touched the cover, the air in the alcove changed.
The white surface shimmered like it was breathing. Veins of soft blue light crawled across it like frost spreading over glass in winter. The book pulsed in her hands, alive in a way that made her heart race. Symbols appeared across the cover, complex and beautiful, then vanished before she could understand them. The cover illustration blurred and reformed like melting wax reshaping itself.
Celine's breath stopped.
A woman appeared on the cover.
She was elegant and impossibly tall, with hair like cascading silver threads that seemed to move on their own. Her robes swirled with wind and frost, layers upon layers of white silk that looked more like falling snow than fabric. Her face was perfect in the way that statues were perfect: beautiful but untouchable, carved from something colder than ice.
Her eyes were closed, but her presence was overwhelming.
For a heartbeat, Celine felt like the woman was looking straight through her, seeing every fear and flaw and desperate hope she'd tried to hide.
Then the woman's eyes opened.
They were empty. Not cruel or kind. Just vast, like looking into the depths of a winter sky that went on forever.
Celine gasped and nearly dropped the book.
The image shifted. The woman's expression changed, just slightly. Not quite a smile. Something sadder. More knowing.
Then she vanished like frost melting in sunlight.
A title blazed into existence across the cover, etched in brilliant white flame that didn't burn:
Heaven Severing Imagination Sword
Celine stared at the words, hands trembling so hard she had to grip the book tighter to keep from dropping it.
"What..." Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
She looked at Levi, breathless and shaking.
"I've never heard of this book," she managed.
"Most people haven't," Levi said simply. "The Library holds stories from across many worlds. This one came from somewhere else."
"What is it about?"
He paused, considering how much to say.
"A warrior who learns that true strength isn't about cutting yourself off from the world. It's about finding balance between power and humanity."
It was vague, but true enough. He didn't know the exact plot, but most cultivation stories followed similar patterns.
Celine swallowed hard and looked back down at the cover. The title still glowed faintly, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
"I saw her move. The woman."
Levi nodded. So this girl also not mentally normal how can you saw a woman it a novel
"The books here are alive in their own way. They respond to the reader."
"She looked at me."
"Because you're meant to read it."
Celine held the book against her chest. It felt warm and cold at the same time, heavy and weightless, real and impossible.
"What do I do now?"
"When you're ready," Levi said, "open it and start reading."
"That's all?"
"That's everything." He paused, then added gently,
"Take your time with it. Don't rush. The story will unfold at the pace you need."
Celine looked down again at the title burning across the cover.
Heaven Severing Imagination Sword
The words pulsed like a heartbeat. Like a promise. Like a challenge.
She didn't know what it meant. Didn't know what she was holding or what it would ask of her.
But somehow, standing in this impossible library with a book that breathed in her hands, she knew one thing with absolute certainty.
This story was hers.