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She Believed She Could, So She Did...

Numinous

By Ziora ZoraPublished 5 years ago 6 min read
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The secret of getting ahead is getting started

"You know, you're practically drooling, right?" Marlow said with amusement as she watched her friend, Astrid, stare down with bright, excited eyes at the book she had brought from her grandpa's collection as though the book was the Grimoire, also known as a “book of spells.”

"If there weren't customers milling about, I would be squealing like a little girl seeing a jar of candy in her bedroom," Astrid joked.

"From your reaction, I take it he never showed this book to you, either?"

Some of the excitement dimmed from the older lady's eyes.

"No, he must've acquired it right before he... passed. Or rather, I imagine it was a sudden, unexpected find given that he never mentioned that he was hunting for anything even remotely like this beauty."

Marlow's eyes once again fell on the old, leather-bound book that Astrid was carefully examining with gloved hands. The leather appeared to be darkened over the years, whether naturally or because of the preservation efforts of its previous owners remained to be seen. There were a few cracks along the spine from years of being open and read, though there was thankfully no initial red rot.

"The book was on the center shelf in her rare books case," Marlow said. "I must've walked by it dozens of times over the past month before I finally noticed it."

"Maybe because of the archival sleeve?" Astrid offered absently as she carefully opened the book to its title page. "It's the same type Gunther used for all his rare books, so I wouldn't think it would particularly catch your eye." She raised her eyes and looked back at Marlow with a flash of grief. "Plus, you've had too many things weighing on you, as innocuous as a new book."

Marlow shook her head, "But I shouldn't have had to notice it at all. Grandpa always called me the moment he found a book even remotely interesting, but an obvious treasure like this? You haven't said much about it, but all teasing aside about the drooling, I can see it in your eyes. This book is something special. Even factoring in his heart attack–"

She cut herself off, a knot of grief abruptly forming in her throat before she forced it down and shook her head again. "It's just... strange"

"Hmm... it doesn't appear to have been oiled by its previous owners. I don't see any hint of bleed-through along the spine" Astrid suddenly gasped, and her eyes narrowed. "What—is this?"

"I know, right?" Marlow replied with an excited grin, reaching down with a white-gloved hand to point at a series of strange, fading symbols that were handwritten—or drawn—on what she assumed was the title page. "I figure this was why there wasn't any kind of title etched in the spine. The writing doesn't even remotely match any kind of alphabet I've ever seen. The whole book is written in it. I might be jumping the gun here, but it reminds me a lot of The Book of Soyga."

Astrid looked over at her sharply before carefully opening the book a few pages in.

"Don't tease me like that. I don't recognize the writing either, but for all we know, this could just be a prank or someone's old journal written in their cipher."

Marlow nodded, "I thought so, too. I didn't want to get you excited over anything, so I took a few pictures with my phone of blocks of writing from different pages, and ran them through a Google image search. The search brought up a lot of the writing in them, none even remotely matched these—letters?"

"I can see why you would hesitate to call them that," Astrid said. "Each line of writing just looks out of the ordinary with a random number of dots and diagonal, short lines. The writing in the Soyga manuscript at least had letters resembled out alphabet"

"Well, it might be nothing but..." Marlow smiled knowingly.

"Just spill it out already!" Astrid frowned, and looked at her under her glasses.

"I found this" Marlow replied, excitedly. She placed an old card with a place name written on it. Fortunately, the letters were readable. "It may be nothing... but"

"Better than nothing, sweetheart," Astrid took the card and examined it. "The De Facto Capital?"

"The Facto Capital," Marlow echoed with a grin, "also known as the village of Vaiaku, where most government offices are located. It's placed on Tuvalu island which means..."

"Gunther's hometown," Astrid muttered as she began to take her gloves off. "I hope you're not–"

"I will," Marlow cut her off. "Who knows what I'll find there. Grandpa used to tell me about his hometown, but it was only about his bittersweet memories. Not much actually."

A familiar bell abruptly chimed behind her, signaling that a customer had entered the bakery shop.

"Oh, shoot," Astrid sighed. "Well, there's nothing I can do change your stubbornness. Neither can I join you, but," she looked torn. "Please be extra careful." She looked over at her sharply, "There's a reason why Gunther never goes back there. You–"

"I swear to be extra careful. So don't worry too much. It's not good for your heart," Marlow assured her in a strong, totally stubborn voice.

With an internal sigh, Astrid nodded her head. Her eyes flitted longingly back down to the book they had been examining. Marlow knew the old lady since she moved back to her grandpa's house. Astrid was Grandpa Gunther's best friend, and over the years of spending countless hours with them, she had become much the same to Marlow. Had she not had Astrid to lean on and mourn with, Grandpa Gunther's abrupt death would have destroyed her. Her friend deserved this windfall and more.

"Go," Marlow said, giving her back a nudge towards the door. "Never make your customer wait for you"

"Never," She snorted.

With an internal sigh, Marlow carefully closed her grandpa's mysterious book. It seemed her continuing examination of the book would have to wait, at the very least another hour, until she went back home. Guilt ate her again. She had been lying to the old lady about not recognizing the writing. Her grandpa had taught her how to read and write in that strange language since she was nine years old. She didn't know why he taught her that since she never sees that writing until now.

"The De Facto Capital..."

She swallowed against the knot of fear that had suddenly formed in her throat. Her finger gently stroked the cover and sighed. A riddle keep running through her head. It was written on the last page of the book. One that makes her thrilled and scared.

Who makes it, does not need of it,

Who buys it, has no use for it,

Who uses it can neither see nor feel it.

After tense, though brief, a moment of silence where even the way air seemed to be holding its breath, the corners of her lips slowly quirked up into a mild grin while those eyes continued to bore on the book.

"Seems like they'll come back again..."

(To-Be-Continue)

fantasy
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About the Creator

Ziora Zora

Dedicated to those who wonders if I'm writing about them...'Maybe'

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