Those Violet Eyes

Found it

Hastos 

My neck aches and my back has sized up, I've been leaning over these dusty old books for hours. Twisting my head from side to side, I can feel the bones rub together as I move. The cold dampness of the room has seeped into my soul. I feel heavy and full of dread. Rubbing my hands down my face, I try to clear the foggy feeling on my brain. A stack of books sits beside the desk, proof of how long I've been here. The weight of failure bearing down on me. Self-doubt swirling around in my head. How did I ever think I could do this? A farmer's boy from the middle of nowhere, maybe the elders were right and I am good for nothing.  

"No!" I yell to the empty room, my voice echoing around the massive bookcases. I know there is more to my story than this, I have a great part to play. I just have to find the right book, and it's in here somewhere, I can feel it. Wait, I can feel it. Why did I not think of this before? I jump out of my seat, spinning around in a circle. My back screams in protest from being hunched over for hours but I'm on a mission. My feet start to move, I can feel something. Like a faint pull, I don't know where it is coming from but it's coming. I turn to my left and work my way along the shelves. Running my fingers over the decaying spines old the century's old books. I close my eyes and open my mind. Where are you? I call to the book. A feathery breeze washes past me, so I follow it. Making my way further and further along the bookcases. As I work my way around the room, playing a game of hot and cold with my feelings, my eyes scanning each book. Waiting for the right one to jump out at me. Craning my neck up to look along the top shelf of the bookcase in front of me, I don't notice the small dirty chest sticking out of the bottom shelf till I catch my shin on it. 

Before I can stop myself, I topple over sideways. Trying to save myself as I fall only pulls a bunch of heavy old books with me. The ancient library is filled with the sound of chaos. Books hit the floor with all-mighty bangs and thuds. The sound of my hands slapping onto the cold stone floor mixes with some very colourful language on my part that echoes off the walls. Pain shots through so many places on my body it's almost overwhelming. The room is once again deathly silent, I'm on my hands and knees waiting for the pain to fade. I bend my arms and rest my face on the floor, it's freezing but brings some relief to the ache in my head. I don't even want to look at my hands, I can feel them throbbing against the stone beneath me. My shin the hit the chest feels like it's been cut open. Knowing I have to get up but not wanting to spark more pain. I slowly start testing my body. Frist lifting my face off the floor, my brain feels like someone has been drilling into it. My head starts to spin, so I close my eyes and let myself adjust. Right spinning stopped. I push myself back so I'm almost sitting on my knees. They ache a little but not too bad, that’s an upside. Resting here for a second before raising one hand off the floor, then the other. Now I'm sitting right back on my legs, I can feel a good-sized lump on my shin already. My hands aren't as bad as I thought they were going to be, just a bit pink and tender. Looking around at the books shattered around me, like fallen bodies, broken and open. They look how I feel right now. 

I'm in a world of my own, feeling sorry for myself when I suddenly remember the chest. It's still sitting there on the bottom shelf. It's made from dark wood with heavy iron wrapping around it, it looks very old. Shuffling myself over to the chest I slowly reach out for it like it's alive and I don't want to spook it. Placing my hands on either side I pull it out onto the floor in front of me. It hits the floor with a thud. I stop for a second to run my fingers through my hair, giving it a pull to try to help settle my nerves. Looking down at this box in front of me, I feel stupid, it's just a box. My fingers are shaking as I start to lift the lid. I don't know what I was expecting but I opened the lid and nothing happened. No bright light came shooting out, the earth didn't open up and sallow me. Bats didn't fly out at me. Instead, I had to bend forward to see into it and there at the bottom was a small green notebook. My heart stops for a beat, there are so many emotions running through me it's hard to describe them all. I'm drawn to the book, it's as if it is calling to me, it knows my name and has been waiting for me. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up, and I have goosebumps all over as I reach in and touch the book for the first time. As soon as my finger makes contact this the book my eyes roll back in my head and everything goes white. 

The vision starts like I'm looking into a cloud. Everything is white and foggy. Slowly an image starts to clear in my mind. It's a young woman standing with her back to me, she is on a jetty overlooking a lake. The sun is setting in front of her. The colours of the sunset reflecting off her golden hair, making her look like she is glowing. I've seen this woman before, she is the girl prince Arwen is looking for. His love and the mother of his child. There is more to her though? I can feel something else growing inside her. How can this be though, she is human? YOU MUST FIND HER. The words float through my mind, not spoken just there in my mind. "How do I find her?” I ask. GO TO THE WATERFALL. IT IS THE DOORWAY. Before I can ask any more questions the fog begins to left and I can feel myself returning to my body

I wake up on the cold floor of the ancient library that I call home with the notebook pressed to my chest by my folded arms. I have a sick feeling in my stomach I always get when a vision hits me. Slowly my vision clears, but my eyes burn like I haven't slept in days. Closing them again, I lay still as the ache in my head starts to fade. The chill from the stone beneath me is now seeping into my bones, coursing a different pain to grow inside me. Unfolding one of my arms I push my chest off the floor until I'm sitting upright. Testing my legs for movement, they are only just getting feeling back. I hate how my visions take over my whole body. Each one is different but lately, they have been all-consuming. I feel like each part of my body gets turned off and I have to wait for them to reboot before they will work again. The notebook in my hand feels warm, I only just remember I'm holding it. I slowly open it and flick through the old brown pages. The paper looks handmade. The cover is made from dark green leaves that have been pressed and sealed together, making it thick like cardboard. The pages are a soft creamy brown colour, with petals mixed in giving it a loving feeling. Someone must have spent a long time just making this beautiful little book. Each page has the most stunning writing I have ever seen. Long flowing letters move across the pages, some I can understand, some in a language that looks very old. Every now and then there is a drawing of a flower or herb, these too are flawless, tiny works of art in their own right. I run my hand of a sweet picture of lavender, I can almost smell the flower as I do. It brings me great comfort and memories of being a child and running through the lavender bushes in the back garden of my home. How I wish I could go back to that time. To see my family again. My mother and her sweet smile, my two little sisters and their annoying giggles that I miss so much, and my father, he so worked hard but always had time to teach me or listen to my stories. I don't even notice I'm crying until a big fat tear hits the centre of the lavender. Instead, I'm stuck in this cold old castle with a flock of grumpy old men. This library the only haven I have their backhanded insults and endless jobs that I can never do well enough. Feeling my heart harden and my anger rise, why me? why my family? We were good people. We didn't do anyone any harm. I slam the book shut and hurl it across the room. My anger taking hold of me. I jump to my feet, feeling a bit light-headed as I do but I shake my head. No, I am no longer going to be the shy, timid boy I was. I will not let that define me. I have a gift and I'm going to use it damn it. My hands are shaking and I can hear my blood pulsing through me. I love this library but I will not be a book boy forever looked down on. I cannot stay here any longer. Knowing now what I must do, I run to where I throw the notebook. I bend down to pick it up but stop. It's landed open, in the centre of the page is what looks like a poem. 

She will be born of two worlds. 

The lover of a prince, 

But the mother of a king. 

Inside her lays a power of greatness, 

One long since forgotten. 

A raging fire, 

And a dragon will awaken. 

But heed this warning, 

A darkness lurks, 

If the fire is lost, 

Everything will crumble. 

Reading the poem sends a tingle down my spine, like fireworks going off. I get lots of tiny flashes before my eyes, all too fast for me to really see them. This is it. This is the book I have been looking for. This is the one that holds all the answers. I've found it. I've finally found it. A wave of relief washes over me. It's time, I can leave this hell hole. I tuck the book into the back of my pants and lift my shirt over top to hide it. I must pack, I have to leave tonight. I make my way to the door, stopping only once to look back at the library I've come to call home. This is the one thing I will miss, the books.  

"I will miss you all” I whisper, I can almost hear them tell me to go. I don't have time to linger anymore. I throw myself into the hallway letting the heavy door bang shut behind me. Getting to my tiny room a few moments later, I look at it with new eyes. When I say tiny, I mean tiny. The room is only big enough to fit my bed and a small side table. I'm sure it’s the smallest room in the entire castle. I have actually been in cupboards that are bigger than my room. I'm sure it's more evidence that the elders didn't want me here, but none of those matters now, in Just a few minutes I will be leaving this place forever. The thought of this brings a smile to my face. I pull a bag out from under the bed and start putting my few belongings into it. This time I don't even look back as I leave.