Fated

Chapter Twenty Three

A week ago,

You stood inside the library, hands balled up by your sides, eyes looking at everything aside from the magician in the room. It was quiet aside from the constant ticking of the nearby clock and the breeze wheezing past the open windows.

Solomon stood there, simply assessing a book in his hands, he flips it over as if to inspect the back part before he withdraw a dismissive sigh,

"Please have a seat."

You did as you were told, opting to seat on a nearest stool across from him, he deftly put the book back to its shelf before reclining his head towards your direction, his long braid moving alongside him. Soon enough he was seated across from you, eyes boring right through yours. He blinks once, twice before his eyes went to gaze up towards the ceiling.

"To be completely honest, I had my first doubts the day you gained consciousness." He started, his voice calm, like still waters.

"Your strange actions towards me gave it away, and yet I often finds myself wondering why it was just me." He made a move to lean back, his slim fingers tapping a rhythmitic pattern against the wooden desk, he gave you a once over as if to gouge you for any change in emotion, but unfortunately for him, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction. His gaze bore to yours, gentle, and almost understanding in a sense,

"Will you tell me why?"

You felt the familiar trickle of sweat slid down against your nape and down your back, but you find yourself looking unpertrube.

"I think it was around that time I find the need to disassociate myself with those around me. And I just happened to start with you, since well...you're closer to me alongside Ugo.." you made up a logical excuse, and it seemed to work just fine when Solomon gave you a thoughtful look in return. He seemed to like the idea that he is closer to you than anyone else.

"That's plausible... however, why would you find it fit to conceal your real identity and origin to us?" He finally asks the question you've been dreading to hear, you took a huge inhale through your nose, your fingers mirroring his previous actions, as they drum anxiously against the desk.

"Let's just say... the Villideans. As you know, were once beings created by Il Ilah itself right? And well, as the last remaining of the blood line. I am at terrible risk, which is something innate and I couldn't do anything about it....and for you to shelter me, to have connections with me, it'll also put you all in risk...and I do not want that..."

"I see." He went quiet for a full moment, as if absorbing your words carefully, then he went to pick something inside his bag, it's a scroll.

Your eyes widened at the familiarity of its worn texture, your first instinct was to grab it from his grasp, secure it some place safe and away from any prying eyes. But at the situation you were in, there's no use doing that.

Solomon seemed to noticed your fixation towards the said scroll, he gently put it on the desk, sliding it towards your direction. "You can have it back, destroy it, keep it, the choice has always been yours." He stops, as if hesitating, but he went on either way, "I apologize if I cause you any stress when it went missing."

Oh, you have no idea.

"Forget about it..."

Thankful that he's not adamant to let go of the scroll willingly, you take it before putting it inside your bag for safe keeping, making sure to put it inside a container with a lock this time.

You were careless when you left it in the library one night thinking no one would find it in the upper shelf, but that was your grave mistake, you were supposed to get rid of it that night if it weren't for those emergency late night meetings, Solomon seemed to be awfully fond of.