Chapter 158 - 153: Among Endless Shelves
The massive bronze doors closed softly behind them.
The sounds of the city disappeared almost instantly.
The lively streets of Valenor, filled with merchants and carriages, were replaced by a peaceful silence broken only by the turning of pages, the scratching of quills against parchment, and the quiet footsteps of librarians moving between towering bookshelves.
John instinctively lowered his voice.
"...It’s quieter than I expected."
Lythriel looked around, equally amazed.
"I’ve never seen so many books."
Sylvara slowly turned in a circle.
Sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows high above, painting the polished marble floor with shades of blue, gold, and crimson. The colors shifted gently as clouds drifted across the sky.
Every shelf was meticulously organized.
Wooden plaques hung above each aisle.
**History**
**Geography**
**Medicine**
**Magic Theory**
**Architecture**
**Natural Sciences**
**Philosophy**
There were dozens more stretching farther into the library.
John couldn’t even see where the shelves ended.
"It feels..."
He searched for the right words.
"...like an entire world."
Aerion smiled.
"In many ways, it is."
---
A young librarian approached them.
She appeared to be around twenty years old, with chestnut-colored hair tied neatly behind her head and round spectacles resting on her nose.
Unlike the elderly librarians at the entrance, she wore a simple blue robe embroidered with the emblem of an open book.
She offered a polite bow.
"Welcome to the Royal Library."
"My name is Elena."
"If this is your first visit, I’d be happy to guide you."
John returned the bow.
"Thank you."
"We’d appreciate that."
Elena smiled warmly.
"It is always a pleasure introducing newcomers to our library."
She gestured toward a large map mounted on the nearby wall.
"The library consists of four floors."
"The first floor contains general collections available to everyone."
"The second floor houses advanced historical records, magical studies, and foreign literature."
"The third floor is reserved for scholars conducting official research."
"And the fourth?"
John asked.
Elena’s smile became apologetic.
"The fourth floor is restricted."
"It contains fragile manuscripts and royal archives."
"Only authorized scholars may enter."
John nodded.
"That makes sense."
---
As they walked deeper into the library, Elena continued explaining its history.
"The original library was much smaller."
"It was established nearly seven hundred years ago."
"Each generation expanded it."
She pointed toward one of the towering support columns.
"Some of these columns have stood here since the kingdom’s founding."
John gently ran his hand across the smooth stone.
Seven hundred years.
How many people had walked these halls?
How many discoveries had been made here?
How many dreams had begun between these shelves?
---
They entered the History Wing.
Immediately, the atmosphere changed.
The shelves here were taller than anywhere else they had passed.
Some reached nearly to the ceiling.
Rolling ladders allowed librarians to access the highest shelves.
Rows upon rows of leather-bound books stretched into the distance.
John’s eyes wandered from title to title.
**The Founding of Valenor**
**Chronicles of the Northern Kingdoms**
**Trade Routes of the Eastern Continent**
**The Age of Exploration**
**Legends of Ancient Civilizations**
Each title sparked another question in his mind.
Lythriel watched him with amusement.
"I’ve never seen someone look so happy."
John smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry."
"Don’t apologize."
"It’s kind of nice."
---
Nearby, several elderly scholars quietly debated over an old map spread across a large oak table.
One pointed toward a faded mountain range while another shook his head.
"No."
"The border was moved after the Frost Campaign."
"You’ve forgotten the revised survey."
A third scholar sighed.
"You’ve been arguing about the same mountain for two hours."
John smiled to himself.
Some things really were universal.
---
Elena led them toward a circular reading hall at the center of the History Wing.
Dozens of desks surrounded a magnificent globe nearly three meters tall.
Unlike an ordinary globe, this one had been enchanted.
Tiny lights slowly moved across its surface, marking major cities, trade routes, and rivers.
Sylvara gasped softly.
"It’s beautiful."
"It was created almost two hundred years ago," Elena explained proudly.
"Our librarians update it whenever new regions are explored."
John stepped closer.
He quickly located Valenor.
Then Greenhollow.
The village looked almost insignificant beside the capital.
Yet...
John smiled.
It remained one of the most important places on the map in his heart.
---
The Soul Raven landed atop one of the globe’s support beams.
It remained unusually quiet.
John noticed.
"Something wrong?"
The ancient guardian studied the globe for several moments.
"...Time."
John tilted his head.
"What about it?"
"It changes everything."
The raven looked toward one of the oldest shelves.
"I remember when this kingdom occupied less than one quarter of its current territory."
Aerion nodded.
"History is strange."
"When you’ve lived long enough..."
"You stop reading about it."
"You remember it."
John looked back toward the shelves.
That thought was difficult to imagine.
For him...
History was something written in books.
For Aerion and the Soul Raven...
Parts of it had been their lives.
---
As they continued exploring, John found himself stopping before another shelf.
Its title immediately caught his attention.
**Ancient Races**
He carefully pulled one volume free.
Dust drifted into the sunlight.
The leather cover was worn with age.
Opening it carefully, he discovered detailed illustrations of elves, dwarves, beastkin, giants...
And dragons.
His heartbeat quickened.
The illustration depicted a massive silver dragon soaring above snow-covered mountains.
The accompanying text described dragons as ancient beings of immense wisdom and overwhelming magical power.
John continued reading.
"...Most dragons avoid contact with younger races..."
"...their numbers have steadily declined..."
"...few reliable records exist regarding the Dragon Kings..."
He stopped.
Dragon Kings.
His eyes narrowed.
There was only a single paragraph.
Most of the page discussed ordinary dragons.
The section about Dragon Kings ended almost as quickly as it began.
"...Little is known about their origins. Many historians debate whether they truly existed or were merely symbolic figures from early mythology..."
John frowned.
"That’s all?"
Elena noticed his disappointment.
"Looking for something specific?"
John hesitated.
"I’m... interested in dragons."
She nodded thoughtfully.
"In that case..."
"There may be older texts downstairs."
"Most general books only summarize what is commonly accepted."
John looked hopeful.
"There are older ones?"
"Perhaps."
She smiled.
"You’ll have to search."
---
Lythriel walked over, glancing at the open page.
"Find anything useful?"
John slowly closed the book.
"Not yet."
"But..."
He looked toward the countless shelves stretching across the hall.
"I don’t think I’ve even searched one percent of this place."
Aerion folded his arms.
"The library rewards patience."
John nodded.
"And patience..."
He returned the book carefully to its proper place.
"...is something I’m finally beginning to learn."
Elena smiled approvingly.
"A good scholar never expects answers immediately."
"Sometimes..."
"The search itself teaches more than the answer."
John silently considered those words.
Perhaps she was right.
His journey had rarely gone as planned.
Yet every unexpected stop...
Every village...
Every person he had met...
Had shaped him into someone different.
Maybe the same would be true here.
Maybe the answers he sought wouldn’t be found in the first book.
Or the hundredth.
But they were here.
Somewhere among these endless shelves.
Waiting.
And John intended to find them.
Morning gradually gave way to noon as sunlight streamed through the towering stained-glass windows of the Royal Library.
The once quiet reading halls had become livelier, though "lively" inside the library still meant little more than the soft turning of pages and the occasional whisper between scholars.
John had completely lost track of time.
Three books lay neatly stacked beside him.
Each had taught him something new.
Yet none had answered the question he truly wanted to ask.
"What happened to the Dragon Kings?"
He leaned back in his chair with a quiet sigh.
"So much information..."
"...and so few answers."
Across the table, Lythriel rested her chin in one hand.
"I think you’ve read more books in two hours than I have in my entire life."
John smiled apologetically.
"I got carried away."
"You absolutely did."
She glanced at the growing stack.
"And somehow, none of those are the books you actually wanted."
John laughed.
"I know."
"It’s surprisingly difficult to find reliable information."
Aerion looked up from the manuscript he had been reading.
"History becomes fragmented the older it is."
"Wars."
"Natural disasters."
"Politics."
"Religious conflict."
"There are countless reasons knowledge disappears."
John slowly nodded.
He had considered monsters and the passage of time.
He hadn’t thought about people deliberately erasing history.
---
Sylvara returned a book to a nearby shelf before sitting beside them.
"I found something interesting."
John looked at her curiously.
"What is it?"
She placed a slim volume on the table.
Its title read:
**The Great Libraries of the Continent**
"I thought it might help us understand how information is preserved."
John opened the book.
Most of its pages described famous libraries scattered across different kingdoms.
Some had existed for centuries.
Others had long since been destroyed.
One paragraph caught his attention.
**’Many ancient kingdoms maintained private archives separate from their public libraries. These collections often contained royal records, diplomatic correspondence, and historical accounts considered too valuable or sensitive for public access.’**
John read the passage twice.
Private archives.
His thoughts immediately drifted toward the restricted fourth floor.
Could the answers be there?
He quietly closed the book.
"Interesting."
Aerion noticed the thoughtful look in John’s eyes.
"You’ll need permission."
John smiled.
"I figured."
---
At that moment, Elena approached carrying another stack of books.
"I thought you might find these useful."
She carefully placed them on the table.
John’s eyes widened.
Every title related to dragons.
**Bestiary of the Ancient World**
**Draconic Migration Records**
**Magical Creatures of the Northern Continent**
**Legends of the Elder Sky**
"You found all of these?"
Elena nodded proudly.
"Our catalog helps."
"I searched for every public text mentioning dragons."
John stood.
"Thank you."
"It was my pleasure."
She smiled warmly.
"Few visitors ask about history with such enthusiasm."
Lythriel quietly muttered,
"That’s one way of putting it."
John pretended not to hear.
---
The afternoon passed peacefully.
Each member of the group found something that interested them.
Lythriel eventually wandered into the military history section.
Mostly because she wanted to learn about famous swordsmen.
To her surprise...
She actually became absorbed in several biographies.
"...Huh."
John glanced over.
"What?"
"These are actually pretty interesting."
He grinned.
"I told you."
"Don’t get used to being right."
---
Meanwhile, Sylvara discovered an enormous collection dedicated to plants and herbs.
Beautiful hand-painted illustrations filled nearly every page.
Some flowers only bloomed beneath moonlight.
Others grew exclusively atop mountains.
A few possessed mild magical properties.
She carefully copied several notes into a small journal she had purchased that morning.
John smiled.
"What are you writing?"
"I don’t want to forget."
She looked around the library.
"There’s too much to remember."
John understood completely.
---
Several hours later...
The pile of dragon-related books beside John had grown considerably.
Most repeated the same information.
Dragons were powerful.
Rare.
Long-lived.
Territorial.
Naturally gifted with magic.
Nothing he didn’t already know.
One book, however, stood apart.
Its leather cover was badly faded.
Several pages had clearly been repaired over the centuries.
The title had almost disappeared.
**Fragments of the Elder Age**
John carefully opened it.
The handwriting inside differed from every other book he had read.
Instead of organized Chapters...
It resembled the personal journal of a historian.
Some pages described ruined cities.
Others mentioned vanished kingdoms.
Many entries ended with questions rather than conclusions.
Near the middle...
John’s breathing slowed.
A familiar phrase appeared.
**"...the ancient Dragon King..."**
He immediately leaned closer.
The passage was frustratingly incomplete.
Several pages had been damaged.
Large portions of the text were missing.
Still...
Enough remained to read.
> *"...Unlike ordinary dragons, the Dragon Kings were believed to possess authority beyond simple magical strength. Ancient poems describe them not merely as rulers of dragonkind, but as guardians appointed during the world’s earliest age..."*
John’s heart beat a little faster.
Guardians.
The word felt important.
He continued reading.
> *"...Many dismissed these accounts as symbolic. However, ruins discovered beyond the Ashen Mountains depict enormous dragons standing beside beings resembling spirits of the natural world..."*
The sentence ended abruptly where part of the page had been torn away.
John frowned.
"So close..."
---
Elena noticed his expression as she walked past.
"Did you find something?"
John turned the book so she could see.
"This page is damaged."
She examined it carefully.
"It is."
"Unfortunately..."
She gently touched the worn parchment.
"This manuscript is estimated to be over five hundred years old."
"Some damage occurred long before it reached our library."
John nodded.
"I understand."
Even so...
He couldn’t hide his disappointment.
The passage felt significant.
Almost as if someone had begun explaining the truth...
Only for the explanation to vanish halfway through.
---
Elena remained thoughtful for a moment.
"Actually..."
John looked up.
"There may be another source."
His attention sharpened immediately.
"There is?"
She nodded slowly.
"Perhaps."
"Our public collection contains references copied from older records."
"But..."
She hesitated.
"The original documents may still exist."
John straightened in his chair.
"Where?"
"The Royal Archives."
"The restricted floor?"
She nodded.
John expected that answer.
"I thought so."
"I’m sorry."
"I can’t grant access."
"I know."
John smiled reassuringly.
"You’ve already helped more than enough."
Still...
The possibility lingered in his mind.
If copies existed...
Then somewhere...
The originals might still survive.
---
As afternoon turned toward evening, the library bell rang softly.
Several scholars began packing their notes.
Librarians returned books to their proper shelves with practiced care.
John looked through the tall windows.
The sun had already begun descending toward the western horizon.
"...We’ve been here all day."
Lythriel stretched until her back cracked.
"My legs forgot how to move."
Sylvara laughed.
"I think we all forgot the time."
Aerion closed his own book.
"That usually happens here."
John looked around one final time.
He hadn’t found the complete answer.
Not yet.
But today hadn’t been wasted.
Instead...
His search had truly begun.
He now knew something important.
The Dragon Kings weren’t simply legends.
At least...
Not to everyone.
Someone, centuries ago, had believed they were real.
Someone had called them...
Guardians.
John quietly returned **Fragments of the Elder Age** to its shelf.
"I’ll be back."
He said it softly.
Almost like making a promise.
Not to the library.
But to the forgotten history hidden within its endless shelves.
Outside, the evening bells of Valenor echoed across the city.
Unseen by the group...
On the fourth floor of the Royal Library...
Behind a locked oak door...
An elderly man slowly closed the book he had been reading.
His white beard reached the middle of his chest, and silver robes embroidered with ancient runes marked him as no ordinary scholar.
He had been observing the young dragon through a magical viewing mirror for most of the afternoon.
A faint smile crossed his weathered face.
"So..."
He murmured.
"After all these years..."
"Another seeker has finally arrived."
He reached for an old key hanging beside his desk.
The key had not been used...
For nearly a century.
---
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200 ps = 2 Extra Chapter
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