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With so much literature stacking the shelves, it felt as if I were in a large stadium, but every person in the crowd was using their quietest voices. The resulting sensation felt like an onslaught of rolling waves made up of rustling pages.
‘Um, hi,” I tried tentatively, pushing my metaphysical voice through to the same magickal plane the book’s voices seemed to play in. The whispering instantly stopped. I glanced back at the small team of people waiting behind me. Amon gave me an encouraging nod. Nodding back at him, I turned to face the books and tried again.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ I bulldozed on, in the now deafening silence, ‘I’m looking for information on a flute and a key. The Eye showed it to us, and we need it to wake The Origin. Can you help me?’
There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought to myself how stupid this was. Of course, the books couldn’t understand me. I didn’t know what I was thinking. But then…
‘Here, over here. Here is what you need. Come here.’ The chorus of whispers erupted around me, moving in waves down the nearest stack. I followed the whispers. They grew louder when I stepped in the right direction and grew quieter when I made a wrong turn. Before I knew it, we were deep in the stacks, and the whispers finally came to a crescendo. I reached my hand up, towards one book, whose voice was louder than the rest.
‘Me, I have it, choose me, page 93, I have what you seek.’ It whispered to me. I gently pulled it off the shelf and ran my hand over the cover. It sighed gently before going quiet in my hand. The title read ‘Origin’s Court, (1645-1663), Prophets Selena, Mathias, and Johelion.’
“I think this is it.” I breathed. Looking back at the team that had followed me silently and without question. “Page 93,” I said, handing it to Amon. He flipped it open and read out loud.
When the daemon that shaped,
all things with grace
Is petrified, then in his place,
The daughter shall find what's been concealed,
And peace she brings, as prophesied real.
The Lens to the magic folk shall be cast,
So hidden truths their eyes surpass.
The Flute, a song with power untold,
Shall be the shifter’s, to guard and hold.
It holds the key to slumber's release,
Or stills the motion, with deadly peace.
The daemons bring the Omnikey
Which is kept close, where the heart should be.
For it opens doors, locks, and more,
A treasure to guard, forever more.
Amon looked up at me as he finished, his eyes dancing with an emotion I couldn’t place.
“Amazing,” he breathed, and Kasha grabbed the book from him.
“This is it! You found it Raven! There was an origindamned prophecy on this the whole time. The Lens to the magick folk shall be cast…yes, we have that. Next is the flute. Sorry, The Flute. It’s capitalized.” She winked. “That usually means it’s a big deal.”
“The Flute, a song with power untold, shall be the shifter’s, to guard and hold.” We all turned to look at Rycon, who was examining his blunt fingernails, and clearly hadn’t been paying attention. After a beat, he looked up at us, and realized we were all staring at him.
“What?” He asked.
“This prophecy says that the shifters have The Flute. Know anything about that?” I asked suspiciously.
“What? No!” He said, looking around at us. I wasn’t the only one who had gone straight to the conclusion that he had been intentionally withholding this information.
“Rycon…” I said dangerously, and Amon stepped forward. I think he was looking for an excuse to get into it with the shifter again.
