Discovery -1
1596 Words
CELIA
After dinner, the adrenaline finally fades.
Not all at once. Not gently either. It drains out of me like water from a cracked cup, slow and unstoppable, leaving something cold and heavy behind.
Dread.
Pure, thick, unfiltered dread.
My legs keep moving as I step out from the dining hall first, Annabel behind me, leaving everyone to chat or whatever, but my mind is no longer keeping up. I do not know where we are going. I do not even know where I am standing in this world. I only continue walking because stopping feels like sinking.
The corridor stretches endlessly ahead of us, walls carved in pale stone and gold veins that catch the light. Embedded into the walls are gems. Big and small ones. Some clear like crystal. Some deep blue. Some warm like molten amber.
They glow softly, lighting the hallway even though there are no candles near them, no wires, no switches, no visible source of power.
They just shine.
I slow my steps, my eyes drifting to one of the gems and another before I lift my finger, hovering it above it.
It's warm.
What exactly is this world?
The question rises in my chest but no answer comes. Only emptiness. Only that sinking feeling that something important has been ripped out of my life and replaced with uncertainty.
A few hours ago, I was in my penthouse. I was holding proof of betrayal. I was angry and ready to leave.
Now I am in a place that looks like a palace hallway that glows by itself, wearing clothes that belong in a historical drama, having already seen someone that looks and sound exactly like my father and my family but almost not truly them even though the incidents that occured in my world seem to be following the same order here.
It's like going back to the past but at the same time not the past.
It feels wrong.
It feels unreal.
And yet, my cheek had hurt earlier when I was slapped. My body had slammed into cold marble when I fell. My lungs had burned when I screamed on that train and at the ceiling.
Pain is real here.
So this place must be real too.
That realization makes the dread grow heavier in my stomach.
My steps slow even more. The spark that had carried me through confrontation, jokes, panic, and stubborn courage is fading fast. My shoulders slump slightly, my fingers curling into the fabric of my sleeves without me noticing.
I feel tired in a way sleep cannot fix.
Behind me, Annabel clears her throat nervously.
“Umm… my lady, where to?”
Her voice pulls me out of my fog.
I stop walking and half turn to look at her.
Where to?
The question echoes in my head like a cruel joke.
Where do you go when your life has already ended?
Where do you go when the world you knew is gone and the one you are standing in does not feel like it belongs to you?
Back to the parking lot.
Back to the moment I caught him cheating so I could pretend I never saw it. So I could quietly book a flight, pack my bags, hug Becca tightly, and leave the country without a confrontation.
So I could save myself instead of trying to be brave and righteous and strong.
Back to before Lauren’s hands shoved me into the air.
Back to before gravity stole everything.
But I cannot go back, can I?
The voice clearly said I need to survive royal academy. And I'm very sure that's the mission I need to complete to go back, unless, I'm to become food for hellhounds.
I force my lips into a small smile even though it feels heavy on my face. My brain scrambles for something that sounds reasonable. Somewhere safe. Somewhere that does not require me to talk to people or pretend I know what I am doing.
“To the library,” I say.
Annabel’s eyes brighten a little in surprise. “The library, my lady?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Lead me there.”
Because if this world is real, then I need to understand it.
If this is some elaborate illusion or afterlife test or twisted second chance, then knowledge is still my weapon. It always has been. I survived boardrooms, negotiations, and hostile takeovers because I learned fast and prepared harder than everyone else.
I can survive this too.
Maybe.
Annabel turns and starts walking down a side corridor, her steps quick and obedient. I follow her, my gaze drifting back to the glowing walls as we move.
Information first.
Answers later.
Fear can wait even though it is already clawing at my chest.
.
.
.
The library steals the breath right out of my lungs the moment I step inside because hell,
It is massive.
Not the kind of big that feels empty and cold, but the kind that feels alive and heavy. Tall shelves stretch upward until they almost touch the ceiling, stacked with books, scrolls, rolled parchments, and leather-bound volumes in every shade of brown, red, and gold. Ladders lean against the shelves like forgotten bridges. The air smells like old paper, ink, dust, and something faintly woody, like polished oak.
It smells… important.
My fingers twitch like they want to touch everything at once.
That's when I spot a table tucked into a quiet corner of the room with two chairs beside it, slightly away from the main walkways. It looks peaceful and my feet naturally take me toward it, Annabel following close behind.
Before I even sit, hums softly.
“You know, my lady,” she says casually, “it is actually surprising. You have always hated the library. You usually prefer to read and journal in your room.”
I do not stop walking.
“Oh, have I?” I reply lightly as I pull the chair back and sit.
“Well,” I add with a small shrug, “people change.”
She blinks at me like she is trying to decide if that answer is acceptable or suspicious.
I settle into the chair and place my hands on the smooth wooden surface of the table before glancing at her.
“Can you please get me books on the history of the… the kingdom,” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. “And the academy too. And also… umm… the Valmorra.”
I gesture vaguely in the air.
“The Valmorra estate.”
Annabel’s brows knit together, suspicion flickering briefly in her eyes.
But then she exhales quietly and nods. “Yes, my lady.”
She turns and walks off toward the shelves.
“Bring everything you can find!” I call after her and she pauses for half a second, then continues walking.
Once she disappears behind one of the tall shelves, I finally let myself breathe properly.
My gaze drops to the table in front of me where a lamp sits at its center. But it does not look like any lamp I have ever seen before. I mean, no cord, no bulb, no flame. Just a smooth golden structure with a clear stone embedded in its center, glowing softly like captured sunlight.
Curiosity tugs at me and I pick it up carefully and turn it in my hands. The stone feels warm against my palm. The glow is steady and calm, not flickering at all. It looks exactly like the gems embedded into the hallway walls earlier.
That's when footsteps echo faintly between the shelves.
I glance sideways just as Annabel reappears, struggling toward me with a tall stack of books piled so high it almost covers her face.
“Oh,” I gasp.
I quickly set the lamp down and rush to meet her halfway.
“Careful,” I say, reaching out to steady the pile before it topples over.
Together, we carry the books back to the table and stack them carefully. The pile looks ridiculous. Thick volumes. Thin journals. Dusty tomes. Rolled scrolls tied with string.
My little research mountain.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
Annabel straightens and brushes her hands against her apron.
I point toward the lamp and the glowing stone. “Annabel… what are those stones in the walls and in this lamp?”
Her face brightens slightly like she is glad to answer something simple.
“They are illuminating magic stones, my lady. They are made from Elvaria.”
I pause.
“Elvaria?” I repeat slowly.
“Yes,” she nods. “The elf kingdom.”
My mouth opens.
Then closes.
Then opens again, but no words come out.
Elf kingdom.
Earlier, Father had mentioned wolves so casually like it was normal conversation. Now there is an elf kingdom supplying magical stones that light up buildings without electricity.
This is not just a weird medieval world.
This is a magical world.
I force a polite smile even though my brain is screaming.
“Ah… I see.” I say, even though my thoughts are already spiraling.
Werewolves. Elves. Magic stones. Royal academies. Moon goddesses. Mate bonds.
Holy s**t. I am not in Kansas anymore.
I stare down at the stack of books.
“Well,” I whisper under my breath, “only you can tell me what kind of mess I’ve landed in.”
I pull the chair closer and sit properly.
My fingers move to rest on the brown cover of the first book and I take a deep breath.
- Writer
