Chapter 58: Whispers of an Ancient Tongue

"You sound excited." Victor pointed out.

"That’s because I’m excited." She told him with a smile.

"Let’s hope this is the one." He told her and she gave him a nod.

Sophia stepped into the library, her boots soft on the polished oak floor, her torn dress brushing her knees. The vast room hummed with quiet care, its towering shelves reaching a vaulted ceiling carved with wolves and crescent moons, their edges gleaming under flickering candlelight.

Leather-bound books, rolled scrolls, and slim volumes packed every shelf, their spines embossed with runes that shimmered faintly. Brass ladders leaned against the walls, polished to a warm glow.

Long tables held open tomes, their pages yellowed, and iron candle holders cradled flickering flames, wax dripping in slow pools. Stained-glass windows cast green and silver light, depicting wolves howling beneath starry skies, the pack’s colors woven into every detail. Pack members moved with purpose, shelving books or reading in hushed tones, their green earrings, beads and headbands catching the warm air’s gentle flow. The space felt alive, meticulously tended, easing the knot of nerves in Sophia’s stomach after her string of failures.

An older man stood behind a sturdy counter, stacking books with deliberate care. His weathered face creased with lines, his gray hair tied back in a neat ponytail. Green feather earrings hung from both ears, their vibrant tips swaying as he moved.

His wool tunic, patched but clean, bore a faint ink stain on the sleeve, and his hands, rough from years of handling parchment, moved with practiced ease.

"Welcome," He said, his voice warm but gravelly. "What books are you looking for today?"

Victor stepped forward, his blonde hair flopping over his eyes, his lanky frame shifting nervously as he clutched Orion’s parchment. "Good morning, Joseph."

"Young Victor, are you here to get a book for your mother?" Joseph asked him.

Victor shook his head. "I was wondering sir, is Elder Eldric here?" he asked, his tone respectful, his voice steady.

Joseph nodded, setting a book down with a soft thud. "He is in his study. Come with me." He stepped out from the counter, his feather earrings swaying, and led them through a narrow corridor.

Its stone walls were lined with shelves of dusty scrolls, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and ink.

They entered a small room, its chaos stark against the library’s order. Books and scrolls littered the stone floor, some stacked in wobbly piles, others splayed open with pages curling.

A heavy oak table groaned under a jumble of manuscripts, inkwells tipped precariously, and quills scattered like fallen leaves. Sagging shelves lined the walls, crammed with leather tomes and parchment rolls tied with frayed cords.

A single window, its glass cracked and curtain tattered, let in slivers of gray light, dust motes swirling lazily. A bronze candelabra, its three candles unlit, sat on the table, wax hardened in drips. The room smelled of ink, mildew, and forgotten secrets, its clutter a testament to endless, frantic study.

Joseph gestured to a pair of creaky stools. "Eldric’ll be here soon. Wait here." He turned, his earrings catching the dim light, and left, the door clicking shut.

Victor and Sophia sat down as Sophia took in the room. It was so different from how organised the other parts were. She moved to pick a book when Victor told her to take it easy and not burn the place down.

Sophia rolled her eyes, her dress snagging on a splintered chair. "I’m not that bad, kid," she muttered, stepping toward the table.

"There is no way I can start a fire here. The candle is unlit." She pointed out.

Victor nodded then, relaxing his hold on the parchment. This was the first task Alpha Orion had given him and he wanted to oro we that he could do it then when his brother comes back, he was going to tell him about everything and how good a guide he was that the alpha trusted him with something like this.

Sophia’s fingers brushed a small, open scroll, its parchment worn and no larger than her palm, edges frayed like it had been carried for centuries.

The writing stopped her cold, etched in faded ink with a strange, flowing grace: ☽ᛚᚢᚾ’ᚹᛖᚦ ᚾᛟᛋ ᚨᛞᛟᚱ’ᛖᚦ ᛖᛚᚨ ☾ᚺᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᛁᚾ ᛁᛋ ᛖᛏᛖᚱᚾᚨᛚ ☽ᛋᚺᛖ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᛋ ᛟᚹᛖᚱ ᚢᛋ ☾ᛒᛟᚹ ᛏᛟ ᚺᛖᚱ ᛚᛁᚷᚺᛏ ☽ᛖᛚᚨ ᚱᛖᚷ’ᛖᚦ ᚾᛟᛋ ᚲᛟᚱ’ᚨᚦ.

She frowned, her breath catching. She frowned. Were those symbols? Was it a mix of that? But the more she looked, she realised it wasn’t just symbols. It...it was a language, rune-like letters woven with crescent moons and star-like dots, pulsing with an ethereal rhythm that called out to her.

The writing looked familiar. It looked like something she knew or something she had come across unknowingly but she just couldn’t place it. It pricked her brain, like a memory buried deep, stirring something she couldn’t place.

"What’s this?" she murmured softly, her voice barely a whisper. She picked up the scroll, its small size fitting perfectly in her hand, as if meant to be hidden in a pocket.

Victor edged closer, his young face curious, his eyes wide as he peered over her shoulder. "What’s that?"

"It’s a language." She told him.

Victor frowned. "Are you sure about that? It looks like gibberish to me."

"It’s a language." She repeated as she stared at it, willing her brain to work.

"I’ve never seen it. They didn’t teach us that in school." Victor told her.

Sophia tilted the scroll, her fingers trembling slightly. "It’s... familiar. Like I’ve seen it before, somewhere." She squinted, her mind tugging at the words, piecing them together slowly, like unraveling a knot. The symbols began to make sense, faint and fleeting. "It says... we worship her..." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

A loud crash shattered the silence. Books tumbled from somewhere, slamming onto the stone floor with a heavy thud. Sophia jumped, her heart lurching, the scroll nearly slipping from her hands. Victor flinched, his lanky frame jerking back, his eyes wide with shock.

"What was that?" Sophia gasped, clutching the scroll to her chest.

Victor steadied himself, his voice shaky. "I don’t know!"