3 Days Earlier
...
(POV: Kismet)
Snap.
Snap.
The sound of dry pages turning was quiet, almost delicate.
A fire crackled faintly in the hearth. Outside, soft rain drummed against the tall glass panes of the villa's windows, silvering the world beyond in blur and shadow.
Kismet sat cross-legged on the rug, his back to the open library shelves. An old book lay open in his lap — thick, worn, the leather cover cracked along the spine. The gold lettering had faded with time.
His eyes moved slowly, tracing each line without rush.
Tap, tap.
Bare feet padded across the wooden floor behind him. Then a small weight dropped beside him with a dramatic sigh.
"Uncle, you're so boring," a girl's voice said.
He didn't look up.
She leaned over his shoulder, peering at the book with narrowed eyes.
"Let me see… 'Great Abyssal Age'. Sounds boring. What are you reading now?"