dragons » d.m [1]

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CHAPTER TWENTY
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R E V E L A T I O N S

"GO BACK TO THE BALL, GIRL!"

"Where are you going now?"

"This is bad..."

(Y/n)  ignored the paintings as she ran to the library, her dress sweeping the stairs and her heels echoing through the narrow space.

From the distance she saw the library's closed double doors, screaming to be opened. With all her strength, she pushed them, leaving a small gap where she could fit in.

The girl breathed out. Slowly. The scent of old books gave the library and antique atmosphere as it filled her nostrils. She needn't have to hurry anymore, everyone was busy having fun no one would ever have to interrupt her. She walked further in, the small flames of the candles dancing as she passed by. Once again, she reach its end, seeing the Restricted Section a few steps away from her.

Stepping in, she noticed there was a torch placed on top of the small table.

Someone had been there before her.

A tattered book was slightly peeking from the shelf, making it stand out from the others.

Could it be..?

Pulling the book, she grimaced, wiping the blood off the covers.

"A Game of Thrones," she whispered, bringing the torch closer to her to illuminate the words. Gasping slightly, she noticed the crimson substance was present on the handle aswell. The cover was almost unrecognisable, yet she could identify a lion, a stag, a dragon and a direwolf. With faded golden letters, a phrase in a foreign language was written in the centre: 'Valar Morghulis.'

"All men... must die..." she whispered, recognising the High Valyrian words. "Valar dohaeris," she replied instantly, as the words came out of her mouth uncontrollably.

The thin papyrus felt like delicate leaves against her trembling fingers. Clearing her mind, she started reading.

'This is a statement issued by the old man that no one shall remember, a lone shadow that lived this terrifying events that unfortunately is locked in the cells of the Past.

If anyone shall unlock it, screaming the Seven Hells will come and plague their peaceful world with catastrophes, painting the ground red and the sky black, to an eternal dying night.

-Unknown.'

She flipped the page, rapidly; her eyes eagerly moving to and fro the lines, feeding her mind with knoledge.