Chapter 127 Elias’s findings

Chapter 127 Elias’s findings


“See you soon, Mommmy,” Elias said as he picked up the book, leaving Isabella alone. 

Isabella narrowed her eyes. “But we're not done, honey.” She glanced at Lucien for help as Ekias ignored her, walking out of the West Wing and into the main building. 

He'd asked her to read one of his favourite stories, a pastime ritual that they'd taken up and had suddenly stood up, taking interest in something out of sight. 

“He's been acting up.” She whined at Lucien who signalled her to let him go. “We'll know what's up soon,” he said, squeezing her hands, his hands playing with her hair. 

Isabella sighed, her sight distant, not convinced. Elias was more like Lucien than he was like her, always acting independent. 

“Something's up. He's been distracted.” She was not going to let it go. 

Behind him, Elias could hear his parents discussing his behaviour, but he was less concerned. 

There was a pull in the other side of the building, calling him ever since he'd returned to the palace. 

He'd tried as much as he could to ignore it and had failed. Now, he had to answer the call. 

It looked like a light, drawing him to an abandoned part of the main palace, and as he moved the guards seemed to get out of his way. No one was asking the right questions, seeing him alone without an escort. 

Elias forced his legs to stop, ignoring the pull. He wanted to reach out to the guards, plead with one of them to make it stop, but his mouth wouldn't open. 

Instead, he turned right, heading to a slightly opened door. 

The room was dim, making Elias squint as he tried to familiarise himself with the darkness. He could make out certain things in the room. 

Things like there was a stair just a few feet away from him and a door below the stairs. 

“What is it?” Elias wondered out loud. He knew he could turn back and go. Get an adult, preferably his mother to accompany him, but he couldn't. 

Instead, he walked down the stairs slowly until he got to the door, studying the lock. It was locked firmly. 

“Open it.” The voice that had been speaking to him spoke again. 

“I can't,” Elias protested. “You can see it's locked.” His voice held controlled fury. He was being made to act out of his own will and it was beginning to irritate him. 

“Come on, Elias. You and I know it's something you can pick.” 

“I can't,” Elias curled his lips, looking around for the voice. 

“You can't see me, stop trying hard to find me.” The voice cautioned. 

“For now,” Elias challenged. “I will find out who you are soon.” Unlike most children, there was no fear in Elias's eyes. Only curiosity. 

“Well,” the voice chuckled. “Can't wait for that day to come soon. In the meantime, why don't you pick up the lock, I'm sure your dad has taught you that.”

Elias’s gaze tightened as he swallowed. “First piece of advice, you should keep my dad's name out of your mouth.” 

The voice chuckled at the little boy's audacity. “Whatever you want, young master. You should really pick the lock now.” He urged Elias impatiently. 

Elias snorted. “I'm not going to open it just because you want me to. I'm as curious as you are.” He said and reached for the padlock. 

The voice chuckled, clearly impressed. “I'm not going to forget this favour, young master.” 

“Done,” Elias whispered as the padlock fell. “What's next?” He was itching to go through the broken door, anxious for what was at the other end of the room. 

“That was fast.” The voice was genuinely impressed. “That's all. You can go in. It's a book that holds so many secrets. Once you see it, you'll know.”

Elias frowned. He'd just broken the lock to what? A library? “You didn't say it was a library.” He complained. 

His voice was met with an echo that had been absent, with the lights flickering, revealing the cobwebs. 

“Hello?” Elias’s hands were on the doorknob. “You're not leaving me here out on my own, are you?” 

He paused, waiting for a response from the voice that had plagued his dreams. 

“I guess you are.” He sighed in resignation, contemplating what to do. He could turn back, return to what he was doing and cook up an excuse. 

Nah, he wouldn't need to do that. They would never fault him for something that was beyond his control. 

Elias sighed, releasing his hold on the knob as he turned back. They could all return as a family to check out it out. 

The slight creak of the door, caught his attention, making him turn. He bit his lips. Turning back without the voice would signify cowardice. And if there was anything he was not, he was not a coward. 

He closed his eyes momentarily, opening them almost immediately, resolve in his eyes. It was either now or never, he reasoned as he opened the door with a force heavy for a boy his age. 

Heavy dust greeted the intruder, making him cough as he walked in, feasting his eyes on everything bare before him. 

The voice had said something along the lines of an archive, which was very vague, considering that Elias was in the ancient library that housed a thousand and one archives. 

He paused, taking in the appearance of the room as he moved from aisle to aisle, marked by dates that had been forgotten. He counted the aisles noiselessly. There were thirteen of them in number all housing over a thousand forgotten books. 

Elias whistled in amazement. He's just found a new hideaway, different from the garden. 

“That's not why you're here, young master.” The voice sounded in his head again, making Elias hiss in annoyance. 

“You don't get to say when you come and when you go.” He complained, his voice stern. “What exactly am I looking for? You have to give me a hint.” 

The voice chuckled. “There are no hints in this game, young master. When you see it, you'll know.” 

The place went silent again, making Elias groan. “That's so helpful.” He muttered. “Very helpful.” 

“And oh?” The voice sounded hurried as if he had forgotten something important. “It's only a matter of time before we have to meet physically.” 

Elias rolled his eyes, expecting the still silence that followed when the voice disappeared. “Very kind of you.” 

He muttered as he walked back to the door. If he was going to find the very important archive, then he needed to make sure he was on the right path. 

His eyes ran through the dusty room. As an observer, one thing this war had taught him was that most things people were looking for were often hiding in plain sight. 

Elias sighed as he began moving from aisle to aisle looking for the right click. He paused as he got to the third aisle, his eyes wandering to the fireplace. 

It looked warm, signifying that it had been put out not too long ago. “The best place,” he muttered to himself as he bent, dragging a rough pile of papers that had not been burnt completely. 

“Hmm,” Elias grunted. This could not be it. It was an important book no doubt, but it had been kept carelessly. He turned, walking back to the front. Someone had placed the book right there to distract him from the big thing. 

He walked slowly, back to the front of the aisle, studying the shelf more closely. This aisle was a lot different from the others. 

He'd studied the first, second and third and if there was anything he'd noticed, it was that the books were arranged alphabetically. 

But this? This was different. The books had been dumped here and worse, it was all the same book, just different editions.

Elias sighed. This was a tricky position, one that would likely go wrong if he chose the wrong book. 

He let his small hands feel the books before dropping them. 

As his hands held the fifth, he stopped. This one was different. Its back was older, despite it being just the fifth and the pages seemed like they had been accessed by someone not too long ago. 

Elias exhaled in relief, as his blood jumped in excitement. The voice had told him he would feel it when he held the book. 

Now, that he'd found the book, he knew he had to report back to his parents. They would not doubt that he worried, especially his mother. 

He held the book firmly in his hands as he made to walk out of the library, but a shrill noise stopped him in his tracks. 

Elias stopped, crouching. Someone had definitely followed him and he knew without a doubt what the person wanted. The archives that he was holding. 

His hand reached for the knife that was hidden in his shoes. Lucien had insisted on his always carrying a secret weapon. 

It seemed the time had come. He whipped it out, ready to attack when Isabella’s shaky voice came. 

“Elias?”