He approached the imposing double doors and pushed them open, their aged wood protesting with a creak. Stepping into the lobby, he was greeted by the sight of rows upon books, stretching across two floors.

His eyes scanned the spines of the colorful books, embracing the fact that each book that sat within its place was either given to his father or found by him. 

The air hummed with magic that powered the glowing chandeliers suspended throughout the floors. Scattered through the space were small tables and chairs, inviting visitors to lose themselves in the world of literature. To the right, behind the receptionist's desk, was Damian Ettore.

His sharp brown eyes glanced up from the book he was engrossed in. With a derisive scoff, he muttered, “Miller.”

“Damian,” he greeted hesitantly before ascending the grand staircase to the upper floor where the most treasured books, artifacts, and art pieces resided.

Passing through the hallowed halls, he caught glimpses of high-ranking Keodms, their robes shimmered with the fabric of sagesilk. Adorning their heads were enigma crowns, symbols of their wisdom and authority. Each high-ranking Keodm overlooked an area, ensuring the safety of books and answering any questions to those who sought knowledge. 

However, their attention was swiftly averted as soon as they noticed his dark figure. He let out a weary sigh, "I would've asked for their help but...oh well."

He continued, weaving through the aisles of ancient tomes and mystical manuscripts, his gaze flitting from one title to another. The air grew dense with the weight of forgotten wisdom as he delved deeper into the heart of the library. And there, bathed in light streaming through the grand bay window, resting on an ornate pedestal, was the Enchridrion VII. A revered codex containing all of the knowledge of Celestri and Tà Fàr̈ that roamed in Fatima.

“Of course, why didnt I think of that?” His heart quickened with anticipation as he leaped over towards the book. However, as he came near it, a high-ranking Keodm named Caesar Loke, adorned with a black enigma crown, stepped in front of him. Caesar was a tall, built man with brown hair, pale skin, and big hands. In Caesar's own world, he believed that he was the replica of the Great Tane Mafa– a Hero who slayed Dragons across Fatima. Caesar’s chiseled gaze fell onto Asher with a mixture of suspicion and disdain. He crossed his large arms, his sagesilk robe billowing in an air of superiority. 

“And… I forgot Caesar overlooked this area.” Asher thought, biting down on his lip. 

“What business does a mere child of Ainreth have with the Enchiridion VII?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Such a sacred knowledge is not meant for the likes of you.”

“I-I want to look at the book, or at least read it for an hour.”  Asher stammered, trying to maintain composure.

Caesar let out a mocking chortle, “Read it? You? Child of Ainreth, Im not sure what you’re thinking ehip. Go back to the other side of the Castle where ya Psu is,” he pointed dismissively, his heavy Pløʻian accent coming through. 

Asher’s through tightened as he let out a soft “No.” His heart race, caught between fear and determination. His mind spiraled. This was the first time he ever told a Human no. His legs began to wobble as his twin tail drooped. “Maybe I should turn around and try again later?” he toyed with the thought. 

Caesar’s eyes narrowed, and a hint of surprise crossed his face, “No? That's a first coming from you. Have you grown a spine, ehip?” 

“Please Caesar,” Asher pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. “I just need the book.”

A heavy silence settled between them and then Caesar’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Fine,” he conceded, must to Asher’s astonishment. “But you’ll have to prove yourself.” 

“What?” the word slipped out of Asher's mouth. 

Caesar rubbed his stubby beard, his hands outlining his jawline, “You’re the adopted son of Nagabe Miller, one of the greatest Sagehearts in all of Fatima. A few questions should suffice whether you are just as knowledgeable as your kø̄ʻ.” 

Asher swallowed hard, “S-sure I’ll give it a shot.”

Leaning back against a bookshelf, Caesar unfolded his arms, “First one will be easy. Who holds the title of King of all Celestri?” Caesar folded his arms. 

“Exalt.” He replied without hesitation. 

“Correct. Now, in the Hazoteron Kingdom, several cities still thrive above ground. Tell me, what is the name of the largest city among them?” 

Asher’s mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and fragments of knowledge collided in his head. The Hazoteron Kingdom— his weakest subject that he hardly studied with his father and paid little mind to it. He strained to recall any details of the Kingdom.

The country was a vast and dangerous desert dubbed The Red Sea. It harbored mysteries and secrets within its arid expanse. Very little thrived on the surface but it was home to the mijøk okfüjàs, àf chyømos, and muchy inɥùs. They spoke Zundoian and… That's all he could remember.