Fiction/Fantasy
Dreamwalkers — Chapter Seven
Even asleep, you’re not alone
In my quest for answers, I ventured into the school’s seldom-visited archive room. The door creaked as I entered, a sound seemingly foreign in the modern halls of the school. The air was thick with the musk of old books and forgotten tales, a scent that seemed to carry whispers from the past. I scoured the shelves, my fingers tracing the spines of ancient texts, until one caught my eye: ‘The Lore of Dreamwalkers.’
This book was different from the others; it seemed to hum with a quiet energy, its leather cover worn by the touch of many hands over the years.
I opened it carefully, the pages yellowed with age, but the words within held the weight of centuries. They spoke of the Veil, a mystical barrier separating realities, and of the dreamwalkers, guardians who traversed this boundary in their slumber. Their role was to maintain the balance between worlds, a sacred duty passed down through generations.
Intrigued, I turned the pages, finding detailed accounts of dreamwalkers from different eras, their struggles and triumphs, and the great responsibility they shouldered.
As I absorbed the information, lost in the tales of these ancient guardians, the librarian, Mrs. Hargrove, approached. She moved silently, almost blending into the shadows of the archives. “That book hasn’t been touched in years,” she said, her voice a whisper, yet it cut through the silence sharply. “Be careful, Cera. Some secrets are better left buried.”
Her cryptic warning sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up at her, trying to read the expression in her eyes, but she was an enigma, her face unreadable. “Why do you say that, Mrs. Hargrove?” I asked, a sense of unease growing within me.
Mrs. Hargrove sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken stories. “This book,” she began, her fingers lightly touching the cover, “holds more than just the history of dreamwalkers. It speaks of powers and forces that are beyond our understanding, and sometimes, our control.”
I listened, captivated by her words. “Are you saying the stories in this book are true?”
She nodded slowly. “More true than most would dare to believe. The Veil is not just a legend, and those who have the ability to cross it bear a heavy burden. But meddling with such forces can attract unwanted attention, and not all who wander the paths of the Veil come back unscathed.”
Her warning resonated with me, considering the strange dreams and encounters I had experienced. “Do you believe I’m one of these dreamwalkers?” I asked hesitantly.
Mrs. Hargrove studied me for a moment, her gaze piercing. “That is for you to discover,” she replied cryptically. “But remember, knowledge is a double-edged sword. It can empower or it can endanger. Tread carefully, Cera.”
With those words, she turned and left me alone with the book, its pages now seeming to whisper secrets just beyond my grasp. I couldn’t help but wonder what dangers lay hidden within these ancient pages and whether the path I was on would lead to enlightenment or peril.
Determined yet cautious, I continued to read, each word pulling me deeper into the world of the dreamwalkers. The stories spoke of battles fought in the shadows, of alliances formed across realities, and of the immense power that dreamwalkers wielded. Yet there was an underlying current of warning in each tale, a reminder of the responsibility that came with such power.
As the day faded into the evening, I realized I had spent hours lost in the lore of the dreamwalkers. I closed the book, its mysteries still swirling in my mind. Mrs. Hargrove’s words echoed in my thoughts: ‘Some secrets are better left buried.’ But for me, those secrets were now a beacon, calling me to uncover the truth of my own destiny and the mysterious Veil that seemed to be an inextricable part of it.
With a mixture of apprehension and resolve, I left the archive room, the book securely tucked under my arm. The journey ahead was uncertain, but I was ready to face whatever secrets lay hidden in the shadows of the dreamwalkers’ world and maybe discover what really happened to my mother.
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