Evelyn immediately turned, startled by the old man's reply.
He was watching her closely.
For a moment, she wondered what exactly he meant by those words. There was something strange in his stare that sent a chill quietly running down her spine.
"W-what do you mean?" she asked carefully.
The old man slowly stood from his seat, still wearing the same small smile.
"People who truly love books tend to recognize one another," he answered calmly. "Come here, dear. I assume you came to choose something to read."
With that, the old man beckoned her farther inside toward the shelves.
Evelyn hesitated only briefly before following.
And the moment her eyes fully landed on the rows of books surrounding her, most of her confusion slowly melted away.
Shelves stretched across nearly the entire room.
Books stacked over books endlessly, some old and worn while others looked freshly bound. Dust floated softly through thin rays of sunlight coming from the high windows above.
It felt enormous.
Almost magical.
Evelyn slowly walked between the shelves, her silver eyes moving carefully across every title she could find.
A strange happiness quietly bloomed inside her chest.
There were so many books.
More than she had ever seen gathered in one place before.
Eventually, she picked up a novel with a beautifully decorated cover. For a moment she considered buying it.
But then she paused.
As much as she wanted stories, she also wanted knowledge.
Knowledge about the world she lived in.
About the kingdom.
About things she still did not understand.
Quietly placing the novel back onto the shelf, Evelyn continued searching until another book caught her attention.
The History of the Kingdom of Aerith.
Curious, she carefully pulled it free from the shelf.
The cover looked old, slightly faded around the corners.
Evelyn opened it slowly.
Pages filled with maps, writings, and sketches greeted her eyes.
The old man noticed immediately.
"Ah," he said while stroking his beard lightly. "That is an interesting book about our kingdom's history."
Evelyn looked toward him quietly.
"If you're interested in history," he continued, "I may have another book you would like even more."
With that, the old man slowly walked back toward the counter before reaching underneath it.
A moment later, he placed another book in front of her.
Unlike the others, this one looked strange.
Its cover was dark purple-black, almost blending between both colors depending on how the light touched it.
There were no writings on it.
No title.
Nothing.
Evelyn stared at it with slight confusion.
Carefully, she glanced down toward the coins in her pocket before speaking awkwardly.
"Sorry... I would like to read it, but I don't think I have enough money for both books."
The old man chuckled softly.
"Oh dear, this one is a gift."
Evelyn blinked.
"A gift?"
The old man nodded.
"You know, children these days are rarely interested in history anymore." His fingers lightly tapped the dark cover. "Besides, it's an old book. No one ever wanted it, so there is no harm in giving it away."
For a second Evelyn simply stared at the strange book resting before her.
Then slowly—
a small smile appeared across her face.
"...Thank you."
The old man only smiled back knowingly.
After paying for the history book, Evelyn carefully placed both books into her cloth bag.
"Come again next time," the old man said as she prepared to leave.
Evelyn glanced back toward the shelves one final time.
A small part of her wondered if she would truly have another chance to visit a place like this again.
Then finally, she stepped outside once more into the noisy streets and headed toward the fountain where Lily was supposed to meet her.When Evelyn finally arrived near the fountain, she found no trace of Lily anywhere.
Only the endless bustling crowd moved before her eyes.
People passed one another constantly while voices echoed through the busy streets from every direction.
For a moment Evelyn simply stood there waiting.
Then suddenly—
her attention shifted toward a boy sneaking carefully through the crowd.
He looked around suspiciously while trying to appear normal, moving between people quietly and quickly.
Evelyn watched him without meaning to.
The boy slowly approached a group of wealthier women standing beside a fabric stall laughing together.
And then—
she saw him slipping his hand toward one lady's purse.
But before he could grab anything, the woman suddenly swung her arm excitedly while talking to her friends, nearly hitting him in the face.
The boy quickly stumbled backward, startled.
For some reason, Evelyn felt sorry for him.
She quietly looked away, pretending not to notice.
Then she heard her name being called.
"Eve!"
Turning quickly, Evelyn finally spotted Lily hurrying toward her through the crowd.
"Where were you?" Evelyn asked. "I've been waiting for a long time."
"Um... yeah, sorry," Lily answered quickly. "I'm here now, so we should go."
Something about Lily's voice felt strange.
A little too rushed.
Evelyn studied her carefully.
"Did you find what you wanted?" she asked. "The accessories?"
"Y-yeah," Lily answered while forcing a smile. "What about you?"
Before Evelyn could answer—
a loud commotion suddenly erupted behind them.
People began shouting.
Lily's expression changed instantly.
Evelyn turned around just in time to see several guards dragging the same boy from earlier through the crowd.
The wealthy woman she had seen before stood nearby yelling furiously while pointing toward him.
"Thief!" she shouted.
The boy struggled desperately as the guards held his arms tightly.
Swords rested at their waists, glinting beneath the evening sunlight.
Evelyn's chest tightened slightly.
He looked young.
Not much younger than they were.
The crowd quickly gathered around the scene, whispering loudly among themselves.
"We should go," Lily suddenly said quickly beside her.
Evelyn hesitated.
Part of her wanted to know what would happen to the boy.
But eventually she nodded.
And so the two girls quietly left the crowded streets behind.
The walk back toward the village felt strangely quieter.
Lily kept talking along the way, though something about her laughter sounded forced.
Every now and then, Evelyn noticed her glancing nervously over her shoulder.
Subtle things.
Small enough that most people probably would not notice.
But Evelyn did.
By the time they finally arrived home, the sky had already begun darkening.
Soon enough, night settled fully over the village.
Later, Gabriel and Aster finally returned from work carrying the tiredness of the day along with them.
Aster dropped a bundle of ropes near the doorway with a groan.
"My back is dead."
"You complain every day," Gabriel answered while removing his gloves.
"Because my back dies every day."
Lily laughed immediately.
"You sound old."
"I practically am."
Gabriel shook his head quietly before looking toward Evelyn.
"And how was the market?"
Evelyn hesitated slightly.
"It was crowded today."
Lily quickly spoke before anything else could be said.
"We sold everything really fast."
Gabriel nodded approvingly.
"Good."
Soon the small house filled with the familiar sounds of bowls, spoons, and quiet conversation while dinner was prepared.
Lily helped place the soup onto the table while Evelyn handed out bread beside her.
Throughout the entire evening, however, Evelyn continued noticing small things.
Lily dropping her spoon once because her hands shook slightly.
The way her gaze lingered often towards the window.
Something was wrong.
But Evelyn couldn't understand what.
Later that night, after everyone had finally gone quiet, Evelyn returned to her room carrying a small oil lamp carefully in her hands.
The tiny flame flickered warmly across the wooden walls while shadows danced softly around the room.
Sitting down near the bed, Evelyn first reached for the history book.
But before opening it—
her eyes drifted toward the dark purple-black book resting beside it.
The strange one.
The one without a title.
Curiosity slowly pulled at her thoughts.
Eventually, she picked it up.
Carefully opening the cover, Evelyn frowned slightly.
Blank.
The first page held nothing.
So did the second.
Third.
Fourth.
Fifth.
Page after page remained completely empty.
Evelyn let out a quiet sigh.
For a moment she wondered if the old man had simply mistaken the book for something else.
Or perhaps he had tricked her.
Disappointed, she closed the book.
But then—
the pages suddenly fluttered on their own.
Evelyn froze.
In the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something flash across one of the pages.
Immediately she opened the book again.
This time—
writing still did not appear.
But on the eighteenth page—
there was a drawing.
Evelyn stared at it silently.
A boy.
A young boy.
Captured in black ink as several people wielding swords surrounded him.
And at the center of the drawing—
his head being cut away from his body.
Evelyn felt cold suddenly.
The image looked disturbingly real.
Almost alive.
As if frozen in the middle of movement.
Her silver eyes widened slightly while staring at the scene.
Then slowly—
she realized something else.
The place in the drawing looked familiar.
Very familiar.
The market.
And near the far end of the crowd—
stood a girl exiting the scene.
A girl with pale hair.
Evelyn's breath caught quietly in her throat.
It was her.