Whispers

"What in the actual fuck?!" Leo's jaw clattered to the cobblestones, his eyes bugging out like a startled frog as he beheld the colossal edifice before him.

Uren chuckled, a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. "Language, Leo. It wouldn't hurt to remember the library, would it?"

Indeed, the structure before them wasn't merely a library; it was a monument to human ambition, a behemoth of glass and steel that scraped the very underbelly of the clouds.

Imagine a skyscraper, then twist it ever so slightly, morphing its rigid lines into the graceful curve of a scimitar. Imagine that scimitar reaching a thousand feet into the cerulean expanse, each panel of glass shimmering like a captured sunbeam.

This wasn't your quaint village bookstore; this was the Grand Archival Nexus, the repository of human knowledge, the whispered echo of countless generations.

"Hello? Leo? Your very own library in your very own duchy?" Uren teased, waving a hand in front of his friend's slack face.

Leo blinked, reality slowly seeping back into his bewildered mind. "My...?" His voice cracked, a dissonance in the hushed reverence that blanketed the plaza.

He vaguely remembered talk of a grand library, a jewel in the Constel crown, but the amnesia had shrouded it in mist. Now, bathed in the morning sun, the mist burned away, revealing the sheer immensity of it all.

"Hey, isn't that Leonard Constel?",

"Yes, you're right! It's that bastard.",

"What's he doing here? Doesn't he have any shame?!",

But the awe was quickly supplanted by a cold dread. Whispers, like rustling leaves, swirled around them. Discerning gazes, laced with a cocktail of disgust and fear, flickered from behind veils and parasols. He could feel it, the weight of their judgment, a physical pressure suffocating him.

"What's the deal with the atmosphere?" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

Uren's face darkened. "Natural, I'd say. Even with the cleared charges, rumors linger like cobwebs. Many still believe it was a Constel charade, a smokescreen to hide the truth. So, yeah, they hate you."

Leo winced. It made sense, a bitter pill to swallow. Even if his name was cleared, the stain remained, a permanent reminder of a past he couldn't recall.

Their walk to the entrance was an exercise in navigating a minefield of averted gazes and hushed conversations.

As they pushed open the grand glass doors, a breathtaking vista unfolded before them. A cathedral of knowledge, the hall stretched endlessly, its towering bookshelves disappearing into the vaulted ceiling.

The air vibrated with a low hum, the collective murmur of countless turning pages and whispered conversations.

But their arrival shattered the peaceful hum. Heads snapped, eyes widened, and then, whispers erupted like wildfire.

Leo stood at the center of a sudden storm, everyone scrutinizing him, trying to decipher his presence in this sanctuary of learning.

The whispers died down as quickly as they started, replaced by a tense silence. People retreated behind towering tomes, seeking refuge in the vast ocean of knowledge.

"I don't like this," Leo whispered, a nervous click of his tongue the only sound breaking the silence.

Uren nodded grimly. "Human nature, I suppose. You just know when someone despises you, and right now, the feeling seems quite...universal."

Leo's throat constricted. An hour had passed, yet the murderous glares hadn't dulled. His skin prickled, and he longed for the familiar comfort of his room, the solitude that shielded him from these accusatory eyes.

"Maybe the elevator?" Uren suggested, his voice soft.

"Elevator?" Leo's eyebrows shot up. "What elevator?"

Uren's gaze narrowed. "Don't you remember? The mana-powered one?"

Panic choked Leo. Memories danced at the edge of his grasp, tantalizingly close yet frustratingly out of reach. He hadn't lied, not exactly. He just...didn't remember this specific detail. This wasn't good. This gap in his memories, this missing piece, was starting to feel more like a chasm.

"Sure I do," he lied, forcing a nonchalant shrug. "Just mistook it for something else."

Uren studied him intently, the suspicion in his eyes growing. Leo held his breath, praying the charade wouldn't crumble.

Confusion gnawed at Leo like a persistent rodent. "This doesn't make any sense, Mel," he thought, the wheels in his head churning. "Why didn't I remember any of this?"

A startled gasp resonated in his mind. "How did you know I could read your mind?" came Mel's surprised reply.

'Wait, what the actual hell?!' Leo nearly choked on his internal exclamation. 'I meant to say that out loud, not broadcast it to you like some lovesick bard!'

"Tsk, well, now you know," Mel replied coolly. "That should explain why I always knew what you were fantasizing about whenever you saw those village girls."

'Bloody hells, you pervert!' Leo screamed internally, aghast.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" Mel countered. "Those daydreams could land you in the hell for at least a month."

'...Alright, focus, Leo,' he thought, trying to steer the conversation back on track. 'Forget the mind talk, why can't I remember this stuff?'

"Told you already," Mel drawled. "The memories you have are Leo's, unaltered. But they ain't the whole picture, especially the mundane bits."

'Mundane?' Leo scoffed internally. 'This futuristic elevator seems far from mundane!'

"Gaps exist," Mel elaborated. "Missing pieces in the grand puzzle, but that also is an anomally."

'Then that only means someone messed with them,' Leo pointed out.

"Exactly," replied the voice.

Within minutes, they arrived in front of the elevator, and all those who had prior thoughts of using it ran out at the sight of the duo.

Their internal exchange was abruptly interrupted as they reached the elevator. The sight of them sent the small crowd gathered there scurrying away like startled cockroaches.

The elevator itself was a marvel, a transparent box adorned with a glowing orb that pulsed with an otherworldly hum. Its spacious interior could comfortably accommodate a handful of people, a stark contrast to the cramped, rickety contraptions Leo was used to. But the most striking feature was the sheer technological advancement it represented, something far beyond anything he'd ever seen in this backward duchy.

Uren, his gaze lingering on the fleeing crowd, sighed and gestured towards the open door. "You first, I suppose."

As they stepped inside, several blue bubbles, pulsating with numbers, materialized before them. Uren turned to Leo, his brow furrowed. "Where to, then? History section, I presume?"

Leo shook his head, a strange sense of unease settling in his gut. "Wherever it is," he muttered, "I want in."

The doors slid shut with a soft hiss, plunging them into a pool of cool, artificial light. As the elevator began its ascent, bathed in the ethereal glow of the orb, Leo couldn't shake the feeling that this seemingly simple journey was anything but.

The missing memories, the strange technology, the whispers that followed him like a shadow – something was amiss, and the answers, he suspected, was closer than he thought.