Deep within the shadowed halls of the Grand Ardentium Library, where ancient scrolls whispered secrets and tomes slumbered under layers of dust, a book rested in isolation. Bound in dark leather and adorned with runes that pulsed with an eerie glow, it was known as The Tome of Veydrith. A book no one dared to touch.
Yet, curiosity has always been a dangerous thing.
Edric Valtore, a young scholar with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, had spent years seeking it. Unlike others who feared the book’s ominous reputation, Edric believed the curse to be nothing more than superstition. Assisting him was Lysara, a scribe gifted in deciphering forgotten languages, and Master Orwin, a former Magister who had once served the Royal Arcane Council. Together, they would uncover the truth hidden within its pages.
But some knowledge was never meant to be revealed.
The Forbidden Reading
“This is it,” Edric murmured, his fingers hovering above the ancient tome.
Lysara shifted uneasily, her gaze darting around the deserted chamber. “Are you certain about this? The last person who read from that book… well, no one truly knows what happened to them.”
“Legends and exaggerations,” Edric dismissed, brushing off her concerns. “If there is a curse, it is merely the fear of the unknown.” He turned to Master Orwin. “You agree, don’t you?”
The old Magister stroked his graying beard. “I have studied many enchanted texts in my lifetime, but this one… This one defies all logic. If you must read it, do so with caution.”
Edric inhaled deeply and, with steady hands, opened the tome.
At first, nothing happened.
The pages, though ancient, were pristine, filled with elegant script that shimmered as if alive. Lysara leaned in, translating the strange symbols aloud.
“By ink and blood, by time undone… The reader’s fate is now as one…”
A chilling wind swept through the chamber. The torches flickered violently, casting monstrous shadows on the walls. The runes on the cover flared, burning a deep crimson. A voice, hollow and ancient, whispered from the pages.
“Who dares disturb the silence of the forgotten?”
Lysara gasped and stepped back. “Edric, something is wrong.”
But Edric was transfixed, his eyes locked onto the glowing text. His lips moved involuntarily, speaking words he did not recognize.
“Lutaris vel Voren… Ethrion ka—”
A deafening crack split the air. The book shuddered violently before a force unseen hurled Edric backward. He landed hard, gasping for breath. The torches snuffed out, leaving only the pulsing glow of the tome.
Master Orwin rushed forward, gripping Edric’s shoulder. “What have you done?”
Edric’s vision blurred. His veins burned as if molten fire coursed through them. The whispers from the book grew louder, overlapping into an eerie cacophony.
And then he saw it.
A figure stood within the pages of the book itself, a silhouette of shifting darkness with piercing violet eyes.
“You have read what was not meant to be read. And now, the curse is yours to bear.”
The Mark of the Cursed
Edric awoke in his chamber, drenched in sweat. The room spun as he sat up, his head pounding. He could still hear the whispers—faint but persistent.
Lysara and Master Orwin were seated nearby, their faces lined with worry.
“You collapsed after the book… reacted,” Lysara said softly. “We had to drag you out before—before anything else happened.”
Master Orwin’s expression was grim. “Look at your arm, boy.”
Edric glanced down and felt his stomach drop. Black runes, identical to those in the tome, now etched his skin like a brand. They pulsed with a dull light, moving ever so slightly, as if alive.
“What is this?” His voice was hoarse.
Master Orwin exhaled heavily. “The Mark of Veydrith. The curse is real. And it has claimed you.”
Lysara grasped Edric’s hands, her fear barely contained. “We need to break it. There must be a way.”
“There is always a way,” Orwin muttered. “But the question is—at what cost?”
A Desperate Journey
Through faded scrolls and forgotten lore, they learned that the curse could be undone, but only by returning the book to its rightful keeper—an entity known as the Warden of the Abyss.
Legends spoke of a hidden sanctum deep within the Shrouded Wastes, where reality twisted, and time was but a suggestion. None who ventured there ever returned.
Edric, now tormented by waking nightmares and visions of the entity within the tome, knew he had no choice. “If I do not go, the curse will consume me. I will become… something else.”
“Then we go together,” Lysara declared.
Master Orwin sighed, rubbing his temples. “Madness, all of this. But I suppose someone must keep you two from perishing.”
And so, their journey began.
The Final Confrontation
The Shrouded Wastes stretched before them, an endless expanse of mist and shifting shadows. The deeper they ventured, the more the world around them distorted—trees twisted into unnatural shapes, the ground pulsed like living flesh, and whispers echoed from unseen lips.
At the heart of the wasteland, they found it.
A great obsidian gate, carved with symbols identical to the ones on Edric’s skin. As they approached, the air thickened, pressing against them like unseen hands.
And then, the Warden emerged.
Towering, cloaked in darkness, with eyes like dying stars. It regarded them with an unsettling stillness before speaking in a voice that resonated in their bones.
“You carry the burden of forbidden knowledge. Why have you come?”
Edric swallowed his fear. “To return what was never meant to be taken.”
The Warden extended a clawed hand. “The tome. And the price.”
Lysara tensed. “What price?”
The Warden’s gaze never wavered. “For knowledge taken, knowledge must be given. A memory. A truth. A piece of one’s soul.”
Edric hesitated. He had spent his life chasing knowledge, seeking truths beyond mortal understanding. And now, he was asked to give one away.
Steeling himself, he placed a hand over his heart. “Take what you must.”
A rush of cold. A sensation like unraveling thread. Edric gasped as something intangible was pulled from him, vanishing into the void. He staggered, but the runes on his skin faded. The whispers ceased.
It was over.
The Warden nodded once. “The balance is restored. Go, and remember—some knowledge is best left buried.”
Conclusion
As they left the Shrouded Wastes, Edric felt… different. Something within him was missing, a truth he once knew now lost forever. Yet, he was free.
Lysara walked beside him, her hand brushing his. “Are you alright?”
He managed a weak smile. “I suppose some prices are worth paying.”
Master Orwin grunted. “Let’s never do that again.”
And under the watchful gaze of a setting sun, they began their journey home—wiser, humbled, and forever changed.
