Outside, it was around eight in the evening. But... the sun still hadn't set, as if pretending it was about to leave but decided to stay at the last moment.
Rude sun.
Doesn't it know that by eight in the evening it's supposed to disappear behind the horizon?
There was no concept of time here. But you could guess the time of day from the sun's trajectory. Guessing how much was left, though, didn't work. As for us... we were in the library. About ten thousand books and not one that immediately said: "here it is, the right one." As usual.
Among them were forbidden ones. Books that could grant unimaginable power. Not necessarily through knowledge, sometimes just by opening them. Many were sealed. Forbidden. Not to be read.
In any way.
Not now. Not later. Never.
But we needed just one. The one that would explain what those four bloody lines meant. Yes, the ones on the wall. I doubt they were written by someone with an art education.
The search began. We split into groups, each with their own shelf, their own ladder, their own desperate enthusiasm. Fortunately, there really were ladders. The shelves towered like towers, as if holding the salvation of the world or its end.
Some grimoires immediately revealed their abnormality. They emitted an aura, real, without metaphors. It was safer not to mess with them even within three meters. It felt like they'd explode at the slightest touch.
Well... nice to know the library cares about its readers.
Most books contained... something like diaries. Knowledge of one person, the owner of this house. As if at some point in life he decided: "Let the whole world know how I thought."
He was probably truly powerful. Enough to inspire respect or fear. Or envy.
Was he a god? Or just a human? No one will give an exact answer to that. Though it doesn't matter, since it's not about him.
But what's important: this is where it all started.
The games. The witch. Us. The love he believed in. The fear that followed it.
He feared separation. And, using everything he knew, he sealed the witch. Her body. Her soul. Everything that ever lived in her. Forever, on this island.
Fear bred pain. Pain became suffering, and now it's a closed circle.
Painful — scary. Scary — painful. Welcome to human life. Probably that's its main law.
Some think: less suffering in the world, and it would be better. But isn't it humans who generate fear themselves? Fear of loss. Fear of betrayal. Fear of helplessness. Exactly that.
We take the first step toward pain ourselves. Open a door that shouldn't even exist. And then live as if we don't know who built it.
We create these monsters, these feelings. These sufferings live inside us, but we act as if it's someone else's fault.
So did he. He couldn't resist, his mind proved weak.
And as a result, he didn't save the one he loved, but distorted her forever.
And now she, the one who was once beloved,
is the mistress of the island. Creator of games.
Once in eternity, she stages all this again.
Over and over, without warning.
Meanwhile... the sun finally set.
Night fell, quiet, unusually so. Even frighteningly. Rustling leaves. Forest sounds. Calm ocean. Too calm, it always rained before.
Cloudy sky. Heavy drops. Damp walls.
Rain here isn't an anomaly. And yet today it's dry, that worries. Because sometimes calm is the harbinger of a storm.
Calm is a mask. And under the mask... who knows what. On the floor already several hundred books, we'll have to pick them up later. Put them back. No magic, only manual labor.
Two hours of searching. Nothing. Empty, this could last forever. And then it hit me: second day.
Like that time when I went for water, came back, and found only blood. In the first game, the witch accused Enua. Said he was the killer, and now he's in his room.
And then I thought: could it be that on the second day he... killed everyone in the library?
I bolted without warning. The others didn't even manage to ask.
Morgana right after me, Cheryl too. Reacted instantly.
If I want to prove his innocence... if I really want to... I have to start with the main thing.
First convince myself, personally. Up to now, I just believed. Blindly, without proof. Because he didn't seem bad, and now?
Can I trust him?
I thought yes. I wanted to believe it, but that's not enough. The first game clearly showed: if you want to believe, first verify. Then decide.