The echoes of Solara's indignant sputtering finally faded into the vast, silent expanse of the Scriptorium. Shin took a deep breath, the scent of ancient parchment filling his lungs, and tried to regain control of the situation. He was the king. He had a kingdom to save, and a growing harem to manage. The latter, he decided, was the more terrifying prospect.
"Alright," he said, his voice a little too loud in the quiet. "As fascinating as this is, we're here for a reason. The Void. Elowen, you said you might have information on it?"
Elowen, who was still basking in the glow of her new life and Shin's acceptance, straightened up, her expression shifting from shy joy to professional duty. "Of course, my King. The Rite has... reawakened the library's connection to me. I can feel its contents now, like a second heartbeat."
She glided towards a seemingly unremarkable section of the towering shelves. "The information on the Void is not kept in one place. It is a shadow that touches many histories. But there is one... a primer. A foundational text that describes the nature of creation's opposite."
She reached high up, her hand passing over several ancient tomes before her fingers settled on a small, unassuming book bound in what looked like petrified night sky. It had no title. She pulled it free and presented it to Shin with both hands, as if it were the most sacred object in the world.
"Here, my King. The 'Codex of Silent Unmaking.'"
Shin took the book. It was surprisingly heavy, and its surface was cool to the touch. He opened it, expecting to see some form of text he could at least try to decipher.
He couldn't.
The pages were filled with symbols that seemed to shift and writhe under his gaze. They weren't letters; they were more like complex, interlocking runes that glowed with a faint, internal light. As he stared, one symbol morphed into another, and a feeling of profound emptiness washed over him. It was like looking into a hole in the world.
He snapped the book shut, his heart pounding. "I... I can't read this."
"What?" Solara scoffed, from where she was leaning against a shelf. "You're the king! You're supposed to know everything!"
"I'm the king of a world I've been in for less than two days!" Shin retorted, his frustration boiling over. "I can't read your magic glowing squiggles!"
Luna placed a calming hand on his arm. "It's alright, my love. The written language of Astera is not just language. It is infused with magical intent. To read it is to understand the magic behind it. It takes years of study."
She took the book from him, her touch gentle. "Let me."
She sat on a nearby reading bench, patting the space beside her. Shin sat down, feeling a familiar mix of comfort and dependency. Luna opened the book, and this time, the symbols on the page stilled, seeming to recognize her. Her finger traced a line of text, and she began to read, her voice a soft, clear murmur in the silent library.
"'In the beginning, there was the Song, a single note of creation from which all things sprung... But for every note of sound, there exists an echo of silence. For every act of creation, a counter-urge of unmaking. This is the Void. It is not evil. It is not malicious. It is simply... the end of the song.'"
A chill ran down Shin's spine. It was worse than a monster. It was a fundamental law of the universe.
Luna continued, her brow furrowed in concentration. "'The Void cannot be destroyed, only held at bay. It is drawn to light, to life, to sound. It seeks to return all things to the quiet from which they came. It has agents, manifestations of its will—Shadows that consume, Whispers that unravel thoughts...'" She paused, her finger tracing a particularly ominous-looking paragraph. Her eyes widened slightly.
"And there is a prophecy," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "A warning."
Solara stopped her pacing and leaned in, her usual impatience replaced by a dawning dread. Elowen floated closer, her face pale.
Luna looked up at them, her cosmic eyes filled with a gravity that made the air feel heavy. "It says... 'When the Sun yields to the Shadow and the Moon is without Memory, the Silent King will rise, and the Anchor will be tested by the silence he seeks to fill.'"
The prophecy hung in the air of the Scriptorium, heavy and cold. 'The Silent King will rise, and the Anchor will be tested by the silence he seeks to fill.'
"What does that even mean?" Shin finally asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Silent King? Anchor? Is that me?"
"It is you," Luna confirmed, her expression grave. She closed the heavy Codex with a soft, final thud that echoed in the vast space. "The Anchor is what you become when you perform the Rite. You connect to their power, you ground it, and in doing so, you ground this entire reality. The prophecy is a warning. The Void is not just a creeping shadow; it is actively working to sever your connections. To test the strength of its anchor."
She looked at him, her cosmic eyes filled with an intensity that made his stomach clench. "To face what's coming, you cannot be a simple anchor. You must be a fortress. Your power must be immense, multi-faceted. Which means..." She paused, letting the implication land.
"...you need to perform the Rite. Several times."
The words hit Shin like a physical blow. His mind reeled back to the plaza with Valeria, the chaotic energy with Solara, the spiritual merging with Elowen. The embarrassment, the awkwardness, the sheer, overwhelming intimacy of it all.
"Several times?!" he yelped, his voice cracking. "Luna, that's... that's not a solution! That's a... a schedule of public humiliation! I can't just... do that! It's not something you can do on a lunch break!"
Ignoring his frantic sputtering, Luna turned to Elowen, her demeanor shifting back to that of a queen issuing a command. "Elowen, the sacred texts on the Rite. The volume detailing its limitations and applications."
With a silent nod, Elowen glided to a different section of the library. She returned in moments, holding a slim book bound in what looked like pure white leather. It felt serene and practical compared to the ominous Codex.
Luna took it and quickly found the passage she was looking for. Her eyes scanned the page, and a flicker of something—amusement? vindication?—crossed her features before she adopted a neutral, scholarly tone.
"Ah, here we are," she said, clearing her throat. She read aloud, her voice clear and resonant in the silent hall. "'The power of the Rite lies in the forging of new bonds, the anchoring of new and untamed energies. To strengthen the king, the circle must expand. Therefore, the Rite cannot be performed with the same consort. Its magic will not answer the call a second time. To repeat the act is not to build power, but to seek base pleasure, and the magic will be inert.'"
She closed the book and looked up at them.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Shin's brain short-circuited. He stared at Luna, his mouth agape. "It... it what?"
Solara, who had been listening with a growing sense of dread, suddenly let out a sharp gasp. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "It means," she said, her voice dripping with triumphant glee, "that not only does he have to do it more, he has to do it with new people!"
Shin felt the blood drain from his face. He looked from Luna's calm, accepting expression to Solara's gleeful smirk to Elowen's serene, logical nod. It was a nightmare. A magical, legally-binding, harem-expanding nightmare.
He wasn't just a king. He wasn't just an anchor. He was a collector. And his collection was, by divine decree, required to grow.