The Prince's Script

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Hidden Library

The heavy oak door groaned as Kirun slipped into the dimly lit corridor, his side throbbing with every shallow breath. The diary felt like a lead weight in his waistband.

"Easy, Lucius. Don’t pass out now," he muttered to himself, his voice a jagged whisper in the drafty hall. "If you fall over, the guards will just think you’re drunk. That’s probably the best-case scenario."

He pulled the leather book out. The ink swirled into place with a wet, scratching sound.

‘9:30 PM: Take the servant’s path behind the tapestry. The guards are changing shifts at the west junction. If you run into the Captain, ask him about his gambling debts. He’ll be too embarrassed to arrest you.’

"Gambling debts? You really are a gossip-monger, aren't you?" Kirun sighed, shuffling toward the heavy velvet hanging.

"Who's there?" a gruff voice barked from the shadows.

Kirun froze, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He pressed his back against the cold stone wall, clutching the diary so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Just me, Captain," Kirun called out, forcing a smooth, bored drawl into his voice. "Couldn't sleep. The infirmary bed smells like wet wool and regret."

The Captain stepped into the flickering torchlight, his armor clanking. "Your Highness? You shouldn't be wandering. You’re supposed to be recovering."

"Recovering? I’m bored to death, Captain," Kirun said, stepping out with a lopsided, cocky grin. "Speaking of debts, how’s that little arrangement at the Sapphire Den going? I heard the croupier wasn't too pleased with your last 'contribution'."

The Captain’s face went pale, his hand freezing on his sword hilt. "I... I don't know what you're talking about, Prince."

"Don't worry, I’m not here to judge," Kirun winked, moving past him with practiced arrogance. "Just keep the halls clear. I’m heading to the library. If I see you there, I’ll assume you’re looking for a loan."

"Yes, Your Highness. Whatever you say," the Captain muttered, quickly turning and marching in the opposite direction.

"He actually bought that?" Kirun whispered once he was safely around the corner. "You’re either a genius or you're going to get me killed, you little book."

He crept down the stone stairs, the air growing colder and smelling of rotting parchment and ancient dust. He reached the heavy, double-locked doors of the Royal Library.

"Locked. Of course," Kirun groaned, peering at the brass handle.

‘9:45 PM: The key is hidden in the stone gargoyle’s mouth to your left. Don’t trip. The floors are uneven.’

Kirun reached up, his fingers brushing something cold and metallic. He pulled a heavy iron key from the stone beast’s jaws. "A key in a gargoyle's mouth? Real subtle, ancestors. I suppose the dragon's lair was too cliché?"

He unlocked the door and stepped into the silence of the library. Tens of thousands of books lined the shelves, vanishing into the darkness of the high, vaulted ceiling.

"Okay," Kirun whispered, scanning the rows. "Where would someone keep secrets about 'travelers' and 'usurpers'?"

‘10:00 PM: The shelf behind the anatomy section. Look for the book bound in blue dragon-scale.’

"Blue dragon-scale? You’re joking," Kirun muttered, navigating the maze of shelves. He shoved past a row of medical texts and spotted it—a small, pulsating book bound in shimmering, cerulean leather.

"Got you," he breathed, reaching out. "Now, let’s see what kind of mess I’m actually in."

As his fingertips brushed the spine, the leather felt strangely warm, vibrating with a low, hum. He pulled it from the shelf.

"Wait, what?"

The moment the book cleared the shelf, it turned translucent, like smoke caught in a breeze. Kirun fumbled, but his hand passed straight through the cover, then the pages, and finally the entire object began to dissolve into shimmering, golden dust.

"No, no, no! Come back!" Kirun lunged, grabbing at the air, but the book simply evaporated, leaving his fingers tingling with static electricity.

"Great. Just great," Kirun slumped against the shelf, sliding down to the cold floor. "I come all this way for answers, and you just decide to disintegrate?"

‘10:15 PM: You were never meant to read it. You were meant to trigger the alarm.’

Kirun froze. "What?"

A soft, rhythmic sound echoed from the far end of the library. It wasn't the sound of boots. It was the clicking of heels—sharp, deliberate, and approaching fast.

"You really are a curious little pet, aren't you, Lucius?"

Kirun spun around. Sartika stood at the end of the aisle, her rapier drawn and glinting in the moonlight. Her eyes weren't just sharp; they were glowing with a faint, unnatural violet light.

"Sartika? I thought you were back in the wing," Kirun said, his voice straining to sound calm.

"I’m everywhere you are," she said, her voice dripping with a mix of amusement and malice. She tilted her head, her gaze locking onto the diary in his hand. "And you, it seems, have finally realized that your 'instructions' are just leading you into my trap."

"Your trap?" Kirun stood up, his legs shaking. "Is that why the book vanished? Did you set some kind of magic tripwire?"

"I don't need magic to break you," she said, taking a step forward. "I have something much more effective."

She held up a small, ornate glass vial, the liquid inside swirling with a dark, oily substance. "I told you I’d bring the poison. I just didn't specify that I’d wait for you to wake up first."

"You’re really doing this, aren't you?" Kirun gripped the diary, his heart hammering. "You’re going to kill me right here? What about the King? What about your 'duty'?"

Sartika laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the rows of books. "The King is a puppet, and my only duty is to ensure the throne stays empty until I'm ready to claim it. Did you really think you were the only one who could read the diary?"

She stepped into the light, her smile widening into something predatory. "You weren't the only one chosen, Lucius. But you are definitely the most disposable."

She lunged, her rapier whistling toward his chest, but as Kirun scrambled back, he felt the diary in his hand snap open on its own. The ink began to burn, turning his palm searing hot.

‘10:20 PM: Don't fight her. Flip to the last page. Sacrifice the book.’

"Sacrifice it?" Kirun screamed as Sartika closed the distance. "It’s the only thing keeping me alive!"

"Goodbye, brother," Sartika whispered, her blade mere inches from his throat.

Kirun didn't think. He slammed the diary shut and hurled it at her face, but instead of hitting her, the book exploded in a blinding burst of white light, turning the library into a kaleidoscope of screaming shadows.

"What did you do?" Sartika shrieked, the light consuming her form.

The floor beneath Kirun groaned and cracked, giving way entirely, sending him plummeting into the absolute darkness below.