Luna Enwright has spent most of her life shying away from people and social situations. Call her socially awkward, however her voluntary isolation takes its roots in a secret that makes social anxiety just a convenient pretence. To her, a simple hug...
Henry stayed silent before this observation. This was what Edmond was thinking of. Maybe the darkness reminded him of his changing. The complete loss of sight only to awaken to a totally different insight on the world.
"What will we do now?" Henry asked, subtly swerving the conversation's direction. "Lucinde has declared war on us. What if discovering the motive of this war, others decide to join against us?"
"A meeting will surely be called. It will be our last chance to argue our cause."
"And if we fail?"
"You will lead Luna to safety, where even I mustn't know of her location. Promise me. Not by duty of blood but from one friend to another."
***
Since Edmond's disappearance, Luna couldn't help staring at his empty seat in the university classroom as though he were still there, as invisible and silent as a Time Whisperer. The past week, she had been in a reflective state. Thinking about nothing in particular, staring out of the window in her free time. Thick stormy clouds stifled the city. Trees were thinning, their colorful autumn leaves were carried away in the winter-announcing wind. The air was humid, the sidewalks were wet and slippery. It had become a habit for Luna to put her soaking shoes to dry near the apartment's small and only radiator. Every evening she curled up in her bedsheets, vainly trying to heat her frozen extremities, her nose buried in Marie Curie's fur as the little cat snoozed peacefully on her pillow. She would think about that day in the café with Lucinde and every evening, she would hate herself a little more for not feeling any remorse. She had done it. She had killed two people. And that was it. However, last evening was different. At first she lay immobile as usual, listening attentively to the sound of the raging rain outside and then silently, as the night's gloom settled in her room, she began to sob convulsively beneath the covers as if her encaged emotions had managed to finally bubble to the surface. She wrapped her arms around Marie Curie, startling the sleeping cat who stiffened uncomfortably under the oppressive hug.
This evening Luna stopped on her way home to buy newspapers. At each time, she kept expecting to see a title which read something to the effect: 'Medical Miracle: 80-year-old man survives 50km/h car crash' or 'Woman gets her arm torn off by metro'. Instead the headline read 'Elon Musk buys Twitter' You've got to be kidding me...There was also no mention whatsoever to the couple that had died because of her. Arthur told her it had been all handled and covered up but there must have been some kind of evidence left behind somewhere no?
Nevertheless, she held on to the newspaper as she entered the metro. Marie-Élise had proposed more than once to accompany her home. She had refused. Honestly, the idea of Marie-Élise breathing down her neck was just as unsettling as Osiris smiling at her in the metro. She sat near the train's window. Her sleeve was pulled up and pressed against the window, she leant her ear against it. Despite the deafening screeching sound of the train on the rails, she thought she could make out the muffled sound of a melody streaming on the other side. She knew this was her mind yet she closed her eyes, letting her body sway along with the train's abrupt turns, along with her mind's symphony.
When she stepped off the train onto the platform, it seemed to Luna that the visions of people that brushed past her were softer than usual. The remains of the melody still floated in her mind and the visions only played in the background. Once she reached her apartment though, the melody had completely faded and she was faced with the silence of the empty room. The first thing she did was add the day's newspaper to the stack piled up in her desk's drawer. However, at her great frustration, the drawer was so full of old newspapers that it refused to close. Luna yanked at them. They spilled out on the desk and floor. She snorted sceptically as she reread all the idle headlines. Why was she even bothering to keep these? The oldest went back to October 4th, the day she was proven that vampires existed, the most recent being the one from today—November 8th. They were her vain attempt at trying to stay in contact with the world of humans. Irritated at their banality, she began tearing pages, starting with a big cover portraying a perfect movie-star face displaying a too-perfect-to-be-real smile. Yet, something caught her eye in the tiny corner of a page. The title read: 'Incendie à la Bibliothèque Mazarine' (Fire in the Mazarine Library). At the bottom of the article, the journalist promised "la bibliothèque rouvrira ses portes au public lundi" . So, the library was due to reopen last Monday. How could a library accidentally catch on fire? Luna wondered suspiciously. It wasn't as if the librarian was taking secret cooking classes in the Staff-Area... Then, Luna's eyes widened in vivid understanding. The message from Flamel's house began to take on a different meaning.
Could it be possible that it referred to a library? Writers may die however their thoughts stayed behind them, inked into words on paper, waiting to be read. What if, someone had found out what Luna was searching for and decided to destroy the next clue? What if someone knew the next clue resided somewhere in the Mazarine Library?
*** A/N
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Really don't know how I got this but I assume it's because you're reading my story! So thank you for making it this far I really appreciate it!!
Ps: The episode about hearing music actually happened to me while I was on the plane 😂 well sorta... I had Let it go in my head before boarding and then when we took off it really sounded like James Bay was in the plane with me 😅 did anything similar ever happen to you?
