Chapter 17 – The First Encounter with Leynad

The third dawn in Aurion arrived with a new sound—the tinkling of crystals that came not from the ceilings but from the hurried footsteps of someone approaching down the hallway.

Arlen looked up from the ancient alchemy treatise Kael had given him, feeling the hairs on his arms stand on end even before the door opened.

And then he stepped inside.

Leynad Asuos did not walk—she danced through space, as if the laws of gravity were merely suggestions. Her light brown hair, almost golden in the light of the crystals, fell unkempt over eyes that changed color: sometimes blue as the core of a flame, sometimes green as leaves in the sunlight, depending on how the energy around her moved. Her hands, thin and scarred from a thousand failed experiments, gestured even when still.

“So you’re the Chosen One,” Leynad said, leaning forward like a curious bird, his gaze sweeping Arlen from head to toe. I expected someone more… impressive.” The tone wasn’t one of disdain, but of pure scientific curiosity, as if Arlen were a rare artifact that hadn’t lived up to its initial expectations. Arlen found himself laughing, a hoarse sound that echoed in the silent room. “I expected something more impressive, too,” he said, holding up his empty hands. “But here I am.” Leynad studied his face for a long moment before a slow smile spread across his lips—a smile that made Arlen think of live wires about to spark. “Oh, you’re going to be fun.” The Library of the Stars wasn’t a place—it was a living organism. Arlen could barely breathe as they stepped into the main hall. Towering bookshelves spiraled toward the vaulted ceiling, each one pulsing with soft light. Books didn’t sit still on the shelves; they floated, slowly rotating in the air like miniature planets. Some even whispered as they passed, words in dead languages ​​echoing like ghosts.

“That…” Arlen swallowed. That’s not possible.

Leynad laughed, the sound as clear as the clink of glass.

“You say that a lot for someone who carries a piece of the cosmos in their chest.”

He picked up one of the floating books—a leather-bound volume that seemed to breathe—and opened it reverently.

“Aurion is not just a city, Arlen. It is a legacy. A legacy that is now in your hands.”

The words echoed in Arlen’s chest, heavier than the amulet. He looked down at the book Leynad held and saw star maps rearranging themselves, unfamiliar constellations swirling in hypnotic patterns.

“Why me?” — the question escaped his lips before he could stop it.

Leynad looked at him, and this time his eyes were serious—a deep, ancient green, like forests that existed before men.

“Because you are the first in centuries to ask ‘why not me?’ ”

The air in the library smelled of time. Not of time passing, but of time remaining—heavy, dense, as if each century were trapped in the pages of these books. Arlen reached out and touched a parchment that floated near his face; the skin of the document was soft as velvet, warm as a living body. When he pulled his finger back, the golden ink of the words clung to his skin for a second before dissolving like smoke.

Leynad watched everything with the intensity of a cat about to pounce.

“Be careful,” he said, but it wasn’t a warning. It was almost a wish. Some stories don’t like to be read. They prefer to read you.

Arlen felt something then—a presence in the shadows between the shelves. Something that breathed in sync with the amulet on his chest.

And then, without warning, all the lights in the library flickered.

The books stopped floating.

The air grew cold.

And Leynad, for the first time since they had met, looked scared.

“Be careful!” His eyes, now pure blue, were almost white with energy. “Some knowledge burns unprepared minds.”

For a brief moment, something like fear passed across the young man’s normally carefree face. Arlen noticed then the barely noticeable scars on Leynad’s hands—small burn marks in strange patterns.

“You—”

“I was too curious,” Leynad said, shaking out her sleeves to cover the marks. Her smile returned, but now it seemed forced. “Come on, there’s so much more to show.”