Torn Pages

That night, after returning from the Royal Library, I locked my door and lay on my bed.

Sigh...

It was really a chaotic day today. Nyx was already lying lazily over there. I thought about going to sleep too when my eyes landed on the book I brought.

....

"Okay, let's read a little and go back to sleep," I mumbled and pulled out the book.

A book with no title. No emblem. No name. Just an old, battered leather cover, its edges worn with time, its spine barely holding together.

I had guessed it from the start. This wasn't a research book written by some great magician or physician.

It was a diary.

A Normal Diary.

I flipped it open.

"Huh? what the hell?"

The first few pages—gone. Torn. Ripped out so violently that only jagged remnants clung to the spine. Like someone had wanted to erase something. A secret. A truth.