Chapter 5 CHAPTER 5

Chapter 5 CHAPTER 5
I jumped out of the seat, scrambling to turn on the lights so I might snap out of whatever this was. More light flooded the library but the book didn't stop glowing with that bright, yellow light pouring out of it as if trying to pry open the thick covers.

I was frozen for a long minute, the buzzing sound ringing in my ears. I couldn't remember the last time I didn't have a thought in my head. I was diagnosed with maladaptive daydreaming so I always had a plan in motion, a dragon flying, a castle to rule, or jumbled thoughts filled with self-loathing.

But as I stared at the book, my mind was blank.

A book fell from a shelf behind me, and I let out a terrified yelp.

"It's my fault for sleeping here without making sure it's not haunted," I grumbled to myself after making sure that yes, this was as real as can be.

I was familiar with strange occurrences, but there was always some plausible explanation so I took a tentative step forward, hoping there was some device that was hidden between the pages.

It did occur to me that this might be dangerous, maybe a bomb even but hey, I've never gotten burnt before, won't hurt to try today.

I swallowed dryly, all humor and sarcasm lost as I finally touched the cover of the book.

For some reason it felt... cold to the touch, comfortable and nice, encouraging me to open it.

I flipped it open slowly, and as much crazy luck would have it, there was no bomb.

Nor any device that would justify why words were glowing from a damn book.

I stepped closer. I might be going bonkers but I wanted to at least have complete information when I tell the shrink treating me about the incident.

I still hadn't accepted what was happening, but I half expected the words to form warnings, some important messages or something, anything that would justify all of this drama.

But no, it was a damn fairytale book.

What are we? Six?

I took a deep breath and settled back in the chair I'd scrambled off from earlier and decided to see what the fuss was all about.

\---

Long ago, in the kingdom of Drakkonia where dragons ruled the skies and magic flowed through the land, there lived a powerful family known as House Zhar.

The Zhars were different from other dragon-kin. They possessed a gift that others feared: the ability to speak directly to minds, to see thoughts, to bend wills. They called it the Voice, and it was both a blessing and a curse.

For generations, the Zhars used their gift to keep peace. They could calm warring factions, negotiate with dragons, prevent bloodshed. But power, as it always does, bred fear. And fear breeds hatred.

The Dragon King grew paranoid. What if the Zhars used their Voice against him? What if they decided HE was unfit to rule? He couldn't allow such a threat to exist.

So he declared them traitors. Said they conspired with the dangerous enemy Fae realm, and that they planned to overthrow the throne. None of it was true, but truth matters little when a king wants you dead.

The King's soldiers came in the night. They slaughtered every Zhar they could find; men, women, children. The blood of House Zhar stained the streets of Beliara, the second District.

But two escaped: Lord Zhar Chang and his wife, Lady Laura. And they carried with them the most precious thing in the world, their infant daughter, marked by destiny and sent her somewhere she would be safe until it was time for Fate to bring her home.

But prophecies can sometimes be forgotten, until it is the right time...

\---

I have no idea what happened to all the frayed nerves that had possessed me earlier but they were replaced by an uncanny calmness as I kept reading, page after page.

The story pulled me in fiercely, holding my attention tightly. I forgot about the glowing, forgot about my fear. I just... read.

I was about to turn the next page, hungry for more, when my vision started to blur.

I blinked, trying to clear my eyes, it wasn't working so I employed my thumb, scratching until I stopped myself.

But then I opened my eyes, and everything was different.

I looked up, wondering why everywhere was suddenly so bright.

This wasn't the dim library lighting I'd been reading with. This was full, blazing sunlight. Natural light. Warm on my skin.

"I must be going mad," I gasped, hands shaking in fear and confusion as I looked up at where the library roof should have been.

Instead, there was open sky. Brilliant blue, cloudless, and—

"Is that... a second sun?"

My brain stuttered, trying to process what I was seeing; Two bright spots in the sky, one slightly smaller than the other. Was I even on earth anymore?

Panic clawed up my throat.

"Hey! Get off that field!" someone screamed, increasing the panic I was possessed by.

I tore my gaze from the sky and looked down at my surroundings.

I was standing in the middle of an enormous garden. Lush green grass stretched in every direction, dotted with flowers I'd never seen before, colors that didn't exist in nature, or at least not in any nature I knew.

And beyond the garden...

"Is that a castle?" I whispered, but the word didn't do it justice.

It was massive, built into the side of a mountain, with towers that seemed to scrape the sky. The architecture was like something out of a medieval fantasy, but with strange additions, machinery that moved on its own, powered by... I didn't even know what. Magic? The devices floated through the air, watering the gardens, tending to the grounds with no one operating them.

I was in a fairytale. An actual, impossible fairytale.

My bare feet pressed into the grass, and I looked down, startled. When had I taken off my shoes? I could feel every blade of grass, cool and damp against my skin.

This wasn't a dream.

Dreams didn't have this much detail and I could feel everything.

I heard the man's grunting voice again, closer now, and I finally focused on him.

He was middle-aged, weathered, dressed in rough-spun clothes that looked like they belonged in a Renaissance fair. His face was twisted in annoyance as he stormed toward me.

But it was his ears that made my stomach drop.

"Your ears," I gasped.

They were bent all the way to his skin, like someone had pressed it back intensely. But he didn't care to respond, instead, grabbing me with rough hands.

"You strange being," he grumbled in irritation, trying to get me to move quickly. I must not have followed as fast because the next moment, he pushed me and I fell, stumbling over the shock I felt and my own feet.

I closed my eyes, expecting the impact of the ground to hit my head.

But it never did.

I blinked my eyes open, and I was back to the library. I was going to have a panic attack at this rate.

“I have to go back to therapy,” I gasped as I jumped out of the chair, away from the weird book, the entire library and towards my car.

I would rather go nuts in my own house than this strange place.

I ran outside like I was being hunted by a hellhound.

Cold December air hit my face the second I got out of the library and I gasped, gulping it down like I'd been drowning.

My car was right where I'd left it, thank goodness; I didn't have space for more surprises.

I sprinted to it, fingers shaking so badly I dropped my keys twice before I finally got the door open.

I threw myself inside and locked the doors.

Then I just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, trying to remember how to breathe.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.

"It wasn't real," I told myself, my voice too loud in the quiet car. "Grief hallucination. Stress. I fell asleep reading and had a really vivid dream. That's all. That's all it was."

But I could still feel the grass under my feet. Could still smell the flowers. Could still see those two suns burning in an impossible sky.

I started the engine with shaking hands.

I didn't look back at the library as I peeled out of the parking lot. Didn't let myself glance in the rearview mirror.

I just drove.

"First thing tomorrow morning. I'm calling Dr. Martinez. I'm getting back on medication. I have to –"

I blinked.

Just once, a normal blink.

But for a split second –less than a heartbeat –I wasn't in my car.

I was back in that field, staring up at two suns, the pointed-eared man reaching for me.

Then I was back, and I was screaming.

The car swerved. I overcorrected, nearly hit the guardrail, somehow managed to straighten out.

I pulled over onto the shoulder, put the car in park, and buried my face in my hands.

And like an avalanche finally letting go, I broke down.