Stepping into the room was unlike the others he had seen so far. There was no grand architecture nor fancy painting. Instead, rows of bookshelves held thousands of scrolls, books and tablets. James activated his eyes and looked around, pleasantly surprised to see numerous aura signatures coming from some of the books. Curiosity got the better of him, and as he walked over to one, he grabbed it but quickly stopped, sensing danger in it.
'Someone placed it on it, or was it created using a power?' James couldn't be sure and pulled his hand away. He couldn't hear anyone inside and sighed in relief, deactivating the power surrounding him. There was no fear that he might be spotted by a camera. According to Xavier, the Children wouldn't tamper with the building to put them in place, after all, it wasn't necessary considering the security outside and would tarnish the Holy Site.
James wondered how Xavier would sneak the key out, but decided not ask, knowing his job was to hand it to Xavier's middleman once he had it. It wasn't his concern, and it would put him in more danger if he did know. Looking around, James grabbed one of the scrolls on the shelf and carefully opened it up, making sure not to damage it. Looking at it, he frowned and quickly sealed in, unable to understand the language it was written in.
Moving on, he would take another document out and give it a quick read. The majority bored him with the content, mainly regarding their past and other pointless things to him. He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed and continued on, hoping to find something.
Walking along, his eyes focused on another book that glowed a strange green. It was an ancient feeling, colour like rusted copper, but at the same time felt noble and supreme. James stared at it. Unlike the other books that had an aura to them, this one didn't make him feel danger; instead, it was welcoming. With a shaking hand, he reached out and pulled the brown book out and opened the first page, his eyes dilating when he read the first word.
'Zoktis.' With a sharp breath, he felt his heart stop. The urge to laugh came from the situation's unbelievable nature. James looked around, wondering if someone was playing a joke on him, but shook his head and looked back down at the page. 'Zoktis. The Almighty. The creator, destroyer. The heretic, the saviour. The paradoxical existence.' A jumble of words that meant nothing followed as the rest of the page was left empty. Turning over the next five pages was blank before the book started again.
'Five children, five jewels, five natures. Earth, Space, Time, Knowledge, Fate.' Once again, the rest of the page was left empty. James quickly flipped through, trying to find any more, but seeing the back cover, he realised that was all. "What...." He said to himself, turning the book over, unable to believe that was all. Flipping backwards, he couldn't understand anything and went back to the second page with words. "Children. Jewels." Narrowing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to think, but quickly realised another issue with the book. "I can... read it?"
Many of the documents he has picked up so far were in languages he couldn't understand, or old versions of those he could. The book he held must have been hundreds of years old, yet it was written in a modern language. Chuckling to himself at the absurdity of the situation, he froze and quickly turned invisible, hearing the door open. Slipping the book back into the shelf, he crouched down and circled around to the door, seeing an old priest coming in as he began to carefully dust the bookshelves. His actions were slow and methodical as he made his way at a leisurely pace, quietly humming a hymn to himself.
'I can't leave.' James quickly realised his issue. Unless another walked in, he couldn't open the door and walk out. If he did, the priest would know someone had come in. Looking around, his mind raced as he tried to think of a situation and looked at the bookshelves themselves. Although sturdy, they were old. If one broke, it could be enough. Walking around, he studied those furthest from the priest and noticed one that was especially worn down, the screws barely able to support the weight of the works on it. "Forgive me." Quietly muttering to himself, he placed his foot on the joint and took a deep breath. Slamming his food down, he bounced back, making a loud thud. Panicking, he brought it down again, hearing the wood creak under his weight.
Turning to where the old priest was, he saw the old man stop and hurriedly walk over. Bringing his foot down once more, he saw the shelf snap a little and quickly went the opposite way the priest came from. Staring at him, he waited for him to crouch and opened the door. Peeking through the crack and seeing no one in the corridor, he slipped out and carefully shut the door behind him, making sure not to make a sound. With a sigh of relief, he leaned against the wall and slid down it, lifting his hand and realising it was shaking. "To close. Way to close." Telling himself, he rubbed his leg, massaging it after it had gone numb and made his way again, ignoring the pull of the building to repent and focusing solely on what he came here to do.
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The old Priest looked at the shelf, rubbing his fingers over it. Lifting them up, he rubbed them together, his gentle eyes sharpening seeing ground mud falling between them. With a deep breath, he got up and walked around, looking through the bookshelves to see if he could spot anyone.
"They left." The old man said to himself and walked towards the door. Resting his hand on the handle, he waited for a second before suddenly throwing it open and jumping out. Looking left and right, he narrowed his eyes and closed the door behind him, locking it.
Walking down the hallway, he stopped before a door different to the others in the Church. On the wooden door was a carving of a man holding a sword in one hand and a scale in the other. Carefully knocking, he stared ahead.
The door opened, revealing a knight who was out of place in the era. Despite how ridiculous it was for a knight to exist in the modern era, the old man lowered his head in respect and signed a pentagram with his hand.
"Lord Redeemer." The old priest quietly said, afraid that speaking too loudly could incur the man's wrath.
"Speak." The knight said with a cold voice, his eyes glaring through the small slit in his helmet.
"I believe we have a thief within the Holy Ground. I noticed an anomaly within the Library. I dared not make a count and immediately reported it. Forgive me." The knight stayed silent to the priest's words, closing the door. The old Priest waited a minute for the door to open once more.
The towering knight grabbed the sword by the hilt and rotated his shoulders, nodding. "Make your count." The priest lowered his head once more, sighing the pentagram, before quickly walking off.