Ava stood at the crypt's edge, the _Liber Nocturna_ open on a stone pedestal. Catherine lingered behind, her eyes still tinged with darkness, her presence a reminder of Ava's mistake. Elian and Lucas watched, silent sentinels waiting for her next move.
"The _Liber_ responds to intent," Elian said, his voice low. "But control is a different game. You must master it… before it masters you."
Ava's fingers hovered over the pages. She thought of the Order, of Catherine, of the power coursing through her veins. She wrote: _"Shadows, obey me."_
The crypt's darkness swirled, coalescing into living threads. Ava felt the _Liber_'s thrill, its hunger to weave reality. The shadows twisted, forming a tapestry of nightmares and memories.
Catherine stepped forward, her gaze locked on the woven shadows. "Ava… what are you making?"
Ava's intent sharpened. The shadows responded, weaving Catherine into the fabric. The girl's form blurred, her essence becoming part of the tapestry.
"No!" Ava shouted, realizing too late. The _Liber_'s pages laughed, its voice echoing in her mind. _"You weave… you lose."_
Elian grabbed her arm. "Ava, stop! You're—"
The crypt shook. Shadows devoured Catherine, her scream fading into the weave. Ava felt the _Liber_'s satisfaction, its hunger momentarily sated.
Lucas dragged Ava back. "Enough. You need to learn control."
Ava's breath came in sobs. "What did I do?"
Elian's gaze was cold. "You fed the _Liber_. Now it wants more."
The crypt fell silent. The shadows settled, revealing Catherine's threads woven into the dark fabric. Ava saw her own face in the tapestry, threads unraveling.
"The Order will sense this," Lucas said. "We need to move."
Elian nodded. "Ava, you'll train. Learn to wield the _Liber_ without… loss."
Ava stared at her hands, the quill still clenched. "How?"
The _Liber_'s pages turned, writing: _"Pay the price. Rewrite the cost."_
Ava's soul felt heavier. She knew the path—control the _Liber_, or be consumed.
The crypt's candle flickered, casting shadows like living things. Ava's voice was barely audible. "I want to try again."
Elian's smile was a thin line. "Then write… but remember: every edit carves you."
Ava dipped the quill, intent burning. She wrote: _"Catherine, free."_
The tapestry shuddered. Threads unraveled, Catherine's form reappearing, shaken but whole.
Catherine stumbled forward. "Ava… what happened?"
Ava's tears fell. "I… I did it."
The _Liber_'s pages settled, writing: _"Debt paid. Next lesson: survival."_
The crypt shook again—the Order had found them.
Lucas pushed Ava toward the exit. "Time to leave Prague."
Elian grabbed the _Liber_, tucking it away. "The game changes. Ava, you're not alone."
Ava looked at Catherine, at the shadows closing in. She knew the war had begun—with the Order, with the _Liber_, with herself.
The crypt's darkness swallowed them, Prague's night waiting like a predator.
The _Liber_'s whisper echoed: _"The next page turns… survival is the cost."_
Ava's fingers tightened around the quill. She was the _Liber_'s master… or its pawn.