An Old Book

Avon had just finished clearing the dojo, his muscles sore from the work, when he remembered there was still one more thing to do. Kareal's room. The place was in complete chaos—thanks to Zarek's attack—and Avon knew it needed to be cleared. It wasn't just a mess of wood and debris; it was Kareal's space, and it felt like the last piece of him still left behind.

He walked into the room and sighed. "What a mess."

The door was blocked by pieces of broken wood, scattered around like forgotten puzzle pieces. Avon grabbed the biggest chunk, gritting his teeth as he pushed it out into the corridor. Once the door was clear, he stepped inside, the dim light from the hallway barely cutting through the gloom of the room.

The air was thick with dust—he could almost taste it—and the place smelled like old wood. The room was filled with jagged chunks of wood, broken furniture, and remnants of whatever had once been important to Kareal. It looked like a storm had hit, leaving only the wreckage in its wake.

Avon took a deep breath and started moving through the room, carefully avoiding the scattered debris. His eyes scanned the area, looking for something, anything, that could give him some sense of order in the chaos. The room had been home to Kareal for years, and it held so many pieces of his past.

As Avon walked, his eyes landed on something unusual. It was partially hidden under Kareal's bed, the impact of the attack seeming to have shoved it out of its hiding place. Curiosity spiked, and he moved closer, his feet careful not to trip over the displaced wood planks. He crouched down, squinting in the dim light.

The pile of debris around the bed grew thicker as he inched closer, the boards and chunks of wood too dense to navigate further. But he wasn't about to give up. Reaching out, he carefully pushed his hand under the bed and felt around. His fingers brushed against something soft, something that felt different from the rough wood.

His heartbeat quickened as he grabbed hold of it. It was light, surprisingly light for something that had been hidden for so long. He pulled it out quickly, his curiosity growing by the second.

It was a book. An old book.

Avon turned it over in his hands. It was dusty, covered in layers of grime that had built up over time. The cover was thick and weathered, but the book itself was surprisingly light. The edges of the pages were yellowed with age, and the smell of old paper filled his nose. He brushed off the dust, his fingers trembling a little, as he wondered what kind of book it could be.

His eyes flickered over the cover but couldn't make out any title. It was too dark, and the dim light from the room didn't help much. Avon, feeling a rush of impatience, decided to get out of the room to examine the book properly. He needed to see it clearly, to understand what it meant.

He made his way through the clutter, avoiding the larger pieces of broken furniture, and stepped outside onto the stairs. The daylight was fading, but it was still enough to get a better look. He sat down on the steps, blowing lightly on the book to clear some of the dust.

As he opened it, the pages were stiff and slow to move, like the book hadn't been touched in years. The images and the writing were more detailed now, clearer in the outside light. Avon leaned closer, squinting at the faded text.

The pictures… they were familiar. He couldn't place them right away, but they looked so similar to the stances Kareal had practiced when he trained. The way Kareal moved during their sparring sessions, the same postures, the same flow of energy.

Avon flipped through the pages, studying them carefully. The book was divided into sections based on elements—fire, water, earth, air—and it looked like a guide to the Blazers and their abilities. But as he neared the end of the book, he noticed something strange: the last few pages were blank. Completely empty.

He frowned. Why would a book with so much knowledge leave its final pages empty? The question nagged at him, but before he could get too deep into thought, the answer came to him, unwelcome but clear. This was it. This was all Kareal had left behind.

"System, do you recognize this book?" Avon asked, his voice low as he continued to study it.

["Yes. That is a Grimoire—The Arkanem. An ancient book containing firsthand knowledge about the Blazers. It was written by other Blazers before you and has been passed on through the generations."]

Avon's eyebrows furrowed as he absorbed the information. "So this book… it's been around for a long time?"

["Yes," the system replied. "It is considered one of the most sacred texts among Blazers. Demons have sought it for years, hoping to uncover its secrets. They have never succeeded in obtaining it, and should they ever get their hands on it, the world as you know it will be in peril."]

Avon's heart skipped a beat as he processed the gravity of what the system had just said. The book wasn't just important—it was critical. If demons wanted it, that meant it held something they desperately needed. Something powerful.

"So, is this important?" Avon murmured, his eyes flicking to the horizon as he thought about what came next. "Guess I better keep it safe."

He looked around the area, surveying the wreckage around him. The rocks and chunks of wood didn't exactly offer much in the way of safety, but he needed to find a place to hide the book, somewhere no one, especially demons, could find it. He couldn't let this slip into the wrong hands.

He stood up, tucking the book carefully into his arms. "So where do I put you?" he muttered to himself.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he needed to be quick. He needed to hide the book, but the question was where. Somewhere hidden, somewhere safe.

As Avon scanned the area, he felt the weight of the task ahead of him settling in. Kareal was gone, and now it was up to him to continue the fight. The book, the Arkanem, was more than just a relic. It was a weapon, a key to understanding everything the Blazers had fought for.