When Silence Speaks

The library of Kahn breathed it’s dusty and shadowy breath.

Its books were broken by time, and the scrolls almost too fragile to touch. And although time had nibbled at the edges of the historical pages, the stories inside still whispered their myths and legends.

Once Kahn had been the pride of Kahnon, a library filled with knowledge that drew conquering men from distant places. Now it only stood on the city’s forgotten outskirts, its brilliance dimmed, its halls abandoned. To most locals, its secrets were nothing more than myth, not worth looking into, and kept a secret from the world beyond Kahnon. Especially after the damage it had done in the past.

But Nova knew better. Truths lay here, buried in the pages of fading ink. She could always feel it waiting, and she had read and researched enough of the contents of the library to know that the written word could not die. As long as she had eyes to read, and a brain to think for itself, she would not let all these stories die.

This place was more than a ruin, for her, it felt like the beginning of her career. It was what fuelled her expeditions. Although they were no more than local outings and treasures she found, they were certainly not as glamourous as the ones she has read about in the papers. But it meant something to her. Finding the forgotten.

Every scroll, every book might hold a hint to her next journey, finding the next forgotten truth. She loved the thrill of this place, the thrill of finding what she had been looking for.

Nova drifted along one of the longer bookshelves, eyes scanning for any hint of her newest obsession hidden among the library’s history — the Temple of the Hidden Lord. Her fingertips trailed across the shelves, pausing on scrolls that might have any mention of temples in the southern continents. There were many, far too many, and she had already spent months chasing more clues of the temple—since last winter, in fact.

“You are too predictable. When you’re not home or scavenging about, you’re here.”

The voice, deep and familiar, echoed through the dusty shelves. Nova spun around, her heart jolting first with shock, then recognition.

“Frederik!” She closed the distance between them at once, throwing her arms around him. A laugh, breathless and unguarded, slipped out with her words. “What are you doing here?”

Her smile stretched wide, heat spreading across her cheeks. When she let go, she brushed her dusty hands on her shirt and tried to readjust it as best possible to look somewhat presentable. She hated being unprepared, but for him, her very good friend, she allowed the surprise.

“My travels ended sooner than planned,” Frederik said. It was lovely to hear his voice – cool, assured, and touched with that familiar arrogance that came with his wealthy Kahnon upbringing.

She hugged him again before she could stop herself. Months, it had been months since their last expedition, and she could feel what the time apart had done to him. His body was firmer, his arms steadier. He had always towered above her, but now she felt impossibly small.

He pushed her back gently, holding her at arm’s length, his hand firm on her shoulders.

“Are you well? Have you been eating?” His voice carried a note of concern.

Nova huffed and brushed his hands off her shoulders, turning back towards the scrolls she had been looking through moments before.

“You worry about things you shouldn’t. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself when you’re gone.” She shrugged, eyes scanning the parchment that lay before her.

In two strides he was at her side again. “You are thinner than I remembered.”

“Good. You overfeed me. I was hoping someone would notice that I am trying to look better,” she shot back, flashing a playful, sarcastic glare.

Frederik’s lip quirked, looking as though he meant to argue, but before he could speak, she cut in, voice sharp with excitement. “I found another place. A temple.”

He stilled. The shift in her tone was very obvious, and she knew that he recognised her attempt to dodge his concern.

“I’m listening,” he said at last, and the weight in his voice made it clear that the conversation wasn’t forgotten, only postponed. Good. She would make sure he would drop it. She had been busy anyways, and her money was low, but he did not need to know that.

“It has a complicated name that feels painful on my tongue,” she began. Brushing dust from a cracked scroll, “but it basically means Temple of the Hidden Lord. The records I’ve found is dated at least five hundred years back. No other mention of it anywhere later than that.” Her eyes sparked a bit, “some scrolls mention artifacts and gold. Lot’s of it.” The words tumbled out, breathless with urgency.

Frederik only smiled that infuriatingly easy smile. He was handsome in a way that made other women glance twice, and even linger sometimes, but to Nova he was something else. Her friend. Her confidant. Her only constant in life.

“I’ve not been here five minutes,” he paused, “and you are already dumping work on me.”

“You said you were listening, and this is exciting.” She countered, unable to stop the grin on her lips.

“I’ve changed my mind.” He said softly, but certainty lingered his tone “I will hear about the temple later. Right now, I’d rather catch up with you.”

He told her everything. From the little cafes with their dainty pastries, to the rough oceans they crossed, and even the scams he fell for, including losing his tour guide more than once. It took all her willpower not to laugh. She could only imagine this statue of a man being fooled by those quick of hand and smooth of tongue. Together, they looked through his sketches of landscapes, landmarks, and castles. The drawings were so vivid she felt transported into Frederik’s shoes, as though she stood beside him, witnessing it all.

His book was almost full, from front to back.

When it was her turn, she realised she had little to share beyond her discoveries. The candle in the middle of the wooden table was burning low, nearly gone. She marvelled at how much wax that orange flame had devoured while Frederik told his stories. Watching it burn, she thought of how natural this felt, like no time had passed since he left and returned.

Nova stood to stretch. She loosened her hair from the bun atop her head, letting the tangled mass fall down to her mid-back. It began to feel heavy, and its release seemed to ease the tension in her neck. Frederik only watched her, his eyes following every movement. She smiled at him.

“I think I’ve said everything I needed to. So - what’s new with Miss know-va it all?” he asked, breaking the short silence that had filled the room.

She huffed a breath at his attempt at mockery. She hesitated for a moment. What was there to say? She woke, went to the library, researched, ate, slept, and repeated. She opened her mouth but only sighed and slumped back into her chair.

“The same old, same old,” she said with a light smile. Frederik nodded in quiet understanding

“If I knew your life was going to be this boring without me, I would not have even asked.” He laughed, “Just tell me what you found.”

Nova faked offence holding her hand over her heart, muttering about Frederik being a bad friend. He only raised an eyebrow at her, as if saying, you know it’s true.

Nova pulled a fresh candle from her satchel and replaced the dying stub, watching the flame tremble as if it, too, was waiting. “This is not the normal trips we go on. This one is big. Like a professional career starter big.”

“You feel like that every time,” he replied, stating the obvious.

“Those other times were different. I did not know then what I do now.” She paused, unsure where to begin without overwhelming him. “The temple was the holy ground of the Gifted…”

She broke off when she caught the flash of suspicion in Frederik’s face.

“The Gifted do not exist, Nova. You know that as well as I do.”

“You, of all people shouldn’t say that. You know how many so-called legends have been proven real.” Her heart quickened. “Even just between you and me we have proven old tavern stories to be real. Even though it was small truths, we still proved them.” They had argued about this before, his refusal to look into anything not firmly grounded, hers unwilling to let go of stories too persistent to be mere fiction.

She found scrolls that mention them. What these people could do with their minds. Threads that could touch you without a hand nearby, healing other by sheer will and nature, how some of the Gifted could even curse others.

“Nova.” His voice was soft, but not tender. “It concerns me that you’ve spent so much of your time on this.”

She crossed her arms, leaning back. “Be concerned all you want. I have more than one scroll, all pointing to this temple and these people. Even if they don’t exist now, they did.” She stared him down, “Long ago, sometime,” She added.

Frederik said nothing. He only looked at her, calculation flickering in those green eyes.

“I’m asking that you hear me out. See what I’ve found. Then decide if you want in.”

The candlelight danced, throwing their shadows against the shelves around them. Even they seemed to wait, listening for Frederik’s answer. She told herself she didn’t want him to come if he wasn’t a believer; but her heart shrunk, hoping he wouldn’t say no, even if doubt lingered.

At last, he shifted in his seat, reluctance all over his face, “If I come, Nova, it’s to keep you alive. Not because I believe in fairy tales.”