Caedmon sank back into his chair, pressing his palms against his knees as he tried to calm himself. His head remained lowered, eyes fixed on the floor.
"You don't know what things lingers here," he said at last. His voice was deep, heavy— carrying a quiet warning. "You're walking straight into serious trouble."
"What kind of things?" Miralen asked, raising an eyebrow. "Souls?"
Caedmon's head snapped up. "Wait– what? You already know about them?"
"Of course I do," Miralen replied flatly. "Do you really think I'd come all the way here just by finding the map and not reading it?"
Caedmon stared at her for a few seconds. Then he leaned back, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. "Alright," he said. "If you've read it already... then there's no turning back now."
"What?" Miralen's eyes widened. "You said you'd help me go back!"
"I never said that," he replied calmly.
He stood up and began walking between the towering shelves.
"Now stop sitting there like a lazy panda and come with me."
"What?! I am not a lazy panda!" Miralen protested, pouting. Still, she stood up and followed him anyway. She already knew— arguing with him was pointless.
They walked past countless shelves in silence. Miralen couldn't help but admire the library. Endless rows of ancient books, dust— covered and forgotten, as if time itself had abandoned them.
Caedmon finally stopped in front of a massive shelf.
The books here were different. Beautiful. Each was embroidered with golden veins, their covers pristine— untouched by dust, as though dust itself dared not approach them.
He turned to Miralen.
"This is the center of the library," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Every book here belongs to a soul trapped in this cathedral."
"Okay," Miralen nodded slowly. "And what exactly am I supposed to do with them?"
"You're going to free the souls."
"...By reading books?" Miralen asked, folding her arms.
"Yes. And by going to their era." replied Caedmon.
Her eyes widened.
"Wait– so that's what the map meant?" Realization hit her hard. "I have to go back to their time through these books... but how?"
She looked at Caedmon, hope flickering in her eyes.
"You'll have to understand the books first," he replied. "Then you'll be able to bo back in their eras easily."
He paused, clearly holding something back.
"You'll learn the rest as you read."
"Okay..." Miralen nodded, accepting it. Her gaze drifted back to the shelf.
Then she looked at him again.
"Hey, I have a question."
"What is it?"
"If I stay here... won't my dad find out?" she asked quietly.
"He'll worry if I don't come home."
"No," Caedmon replied immediately.
Miralen blinked. "And why though?"
"Time here moves differently. One month inside equals one hour outside. So don't worry about it." He replied calmly.
Miralen looked convinced for a moment, but again she looked at Caedmon in slight confusion and worry. "So, does it also mean that I'll age faster?"
"No."
"Why?"
"People don't age in this place."
"Oh." She tilted her head slightly. "So that's why you look so young?"
"Yes," Caedmon nodded.
Then he glanced at the shelf. "So– do you want to read now?"
"Now?" Miralen groaned. "Can't I start tomorrow?"
"You can," he said coldly. "But remember– you can't go back unless you free the souls."
Miralen froze.
"...Oh yeah," she muttered. "Then which book do I read first?"
Caedmon studied the shelf for a moment before pulling out one book.
It was far larger and thicker than the rest. Emerald green, with silver embroidery at its corners and golden veins along the spine. Written in bold, elegant calligraphy across the cover were the words:
Laws of Time
He stared at it for a long moment— hesitating— before finally handing it to her.
Miralen took it with both hands. It was heavy. She admired the design, then looked up at him.
"You know," she said softly, smiling, "this book's color matches your eyes. And the gem on your collar. It's beautiful."
Caedmon blinked, then looked away.
"...Thanks," he said simply, folding his arms.
"My pleasure," she replied, still smiling.
"So– where do I read it?"
"There," he said, pointing to a long table near another shelf. Miralen walked over and placed the book down.
The table was long, its center made of glass, the edges and legs carved from oak wood and lined with gold. The design was ancient, regal. The chairs around it matched— wooden, elegant, their armrests edged in gold.
She pulled out a chair and sat down. Caedmon took the seat beside her.
Miralen opened the book.
The first page repeated the title in beautiful black calligraphy.
She turned the page.
Blank.
Another page.
Blank.
She flipped through several more— nothing. Every page was empty, yellowed faintly by age.
Miralen stared at Caedmon in disbelief. He looked completely unsurprised.
"Why is it blank?" she asked. "How am I supposed to read this?"
"It always starts like that," he said calmly. "Wait a few minutes."
Not fully convinced, Miralen waited.
Suddenly, the page glowed. Letters began forming slowly— like an invisible hand was writing them. The letters were sharp, beautiful and dark.
Miralen leaned closer in awe... then frowned.
"...Why is everything written backwards?"
"Do I have to reverse it mentally and then read?" she asked, clearly disappointed.
"Yes," Caedmon replied. "And I'm surprised– you already got more rules than anyone else."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You can read it normally, right?"
"Of course."
"Then help me," she said quickly. "Please. Please."
He crossed his arms. "Absolutely not."
"What?! But you're the librarian!"
"Exactly. These rules are meant for you. Not me."
"...Whatever." She rolled her eyes and looked around.
"Where's my bag? I need my notebook."
"The black one?"
"Yes–"
"I burned it."
"...WHAT?!"
Miralen jumped up so fast the chair fell behind her. "You're gotta be kidding me," she said slowly, her face pale.
Caedmon stared at her for a second— then burst out laughing. "Of course I'm kidding."
She glared at him. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"
Caedmon shrugged and then clapped once.
Her bag appeared on the table.
"There. Your precious bag."
"...Thanks," she muttered, still glaring.
(The end of chapter 9)