The Quest of the Scribe

Chapter 1: The Scribe

The boy sat and stared out his window. This boy's name is Mythily Tercinus. Mythily watched the raindrops trickle down his window, betting on which one would win. Come on, right come on, right come on- blast! The left drop got to the bottom of his window first. It was friday night and he didn't have any homework so he decided to amuse himself by watching the beautiful rain outside. It was really so beautiful.

The Tercinus family lived in a small town in England. So small that everyone knew each other. In this town, it rained quite a bit, but Mythily didn't mind. He loved it, actually. He loved cloudy and cold days. He loved the wind. He loved the rain. Most people might find these things depressing, but Mythily found them lovely and they made him happier than sunshine ever could.

Mythily turned his attention to a book that was lying on the floor. The book had a brown, leather cover with the words "The True Game" on it. The words were lined in silver and there was a black crescent moon underneath them. On the side of the book was a shiny, silver clasp that held the book closed. He knelt down on the floor next to the book and picked it up. He admired the pretty words for a few seconds then undid the clasp and looked inside.

Inside were instructions for a game.

The game was called "The True Game," of course, and it was a bit like chess. At least the board and the pieces reminded him of chess. He thought chess was too complicated for him.

The first few pages contained the rules then the rest of the pages were blank. And there were many more pages. He would have written something on them but he didn't have any ideas for a story. He wasn't very good at writing, in his opinion, but he had wonderful penmanship.

His attention was torn away from the book and placed on his phone when he heard it buzz on his bedside table. He tossed the book away and grabbed his phone, checking the message. It was from a number he didn't recognize.

"Hey! Wanna meet me at the old library?"

"Who is this?" He responded.

"Oh! Sorry, this is Ricki from calligraphy class."

"Oh, hi. May I ask how you got my number?"

"Oh, I got it from your brother. Hehe."

"Oh okay. Well, I'd love to meet you there. What time?"

"Right about now. Kay?"

"Okay. See you."

"See you."

Mythily stood up and shrugged on his jacket, then shoving his phone in his pocket he walked out of his room and into his mother's office where she was working on things for college.
"Hey mom," he said, "I'm gonna meet my friend at the old library, alright? I'll be back in about an hour."
"Alright, honey." His mother said, not looking up from her work. "Have fun and be safe."
"Alright, mom."
And with that, he left.

He grabbed an extra house key on his way out and made sure to lock the door behind him. The old library was luckily pretty close to his house so he started walking.

He walked down the street, letting the rain fall on his face and dampen his chocolate brown hair. He walked the two blocks to the library then cut across the lawn to the big front doors. The front doors were really rusty and heavy and difficult to open but he still did it. He walked over to the fiction section to browse till Ricki got there. He enjoyed fantasy books the most.
He eventually found a book that looked interesting and sat down on a couch to read.

He got about halfway through the novel when he heard a cart of books crash to the floor.
"...Ricki..?" He asked timidly, but he was only answered with silence. He put the book down and got up, anxious to go investigate. He walked to where he heard the crash and found the knocked over cart of dusty old books. He looked around for any sign of someone but couldn't find anything.