Burned Books Novels & Stories

"I told you, it was on the shelf in your study." Alexander's eyes snapped back to mine, "You shouldn't have been able to see it, talk less of touch it." A shiver ran down my spine as Alexander's words echoed in my mind. I stared at the book in my hand. What was so special about this burnt book? Is it more important than the fact that someone or something almost killed me? "Give me the scroll I gave you days ago?”

⸻ Almost deliberately. ⸻ Then a single object emerged. ⸻ Not a weapon. ⸻ Not a creature. ⸻ Not a god. ⸻ A book. 📖 ⸻ A simple book. ⸻ Floating in the air. ⸻ Burned. ⸻ Damaged. ⸻ Ancient. ⸻ Its pages were torn. ⸻ Its cover almost destroyed. ⸻ Yet one title remained visible. ⸻

Howdy, my faithfuls! I wanted to take this time to apologize to you all for the delay in chapter updates...AGAIN. My editor is working on getting this taken care of as quickly as possible. You all have been super awesome with your patience while we get this resolved. Please delete this book and readd it to your library for the updates to take effect. I want to make sure each of you is where you should be in the chapters, as there are some spoilers lurking for the sequel! I'm excited for that book! As always, thank you for your support and your gems! :)

CHAPTER 76: WITH RELATION TO THE DEVIL ZAHRA'S POV The fire crackled softly in the corner of the room, casting a warm glow on the nearby furniture. I lay on the couch in Dashiell's estate, my limbs heavy with weakness. The familiar scent of the leather seats mixed with the faint smell of ginseng still emitting from my clothes. I traced a finger along the bandage on my forehead, my thoughts drifting back to Davina pinning me against the altar stone, and her vile perverted touches. The disgusting way she spoke, and the feeling of her tongue trailing up my neck, still haunted me.

The scent of burning sage lingered in the air, mingling with the faint musk of leather and old parchment. Inside the library, Kelda carefully turned the brittle pages of an ancient tome, her fingers tracing the faint Norse etchings. The firelight from the hearth flickered against the towering bookshelves, casting moving shadows across the worn wooden floor.

I took my book and I lit my index finger with fire and tried burning the book. "They got us there". Zale said and sighed getting his own book and tried to toss it in the ocean. I stopped my fire and stopped him. "Well, as we are back to square one, let's just try to gather information from the northern part," I said and smiled at him. I put my book inside my bag again. It was pointless anyway, to burn the book. It is the book of origin, a book written by the Gods, it is protected from being harmed by anything, by anyone.

It first burned off his eyes, then my wedding gown, and finally, the fake happiness. The acrid scent of paper burning filled the room. With an expressionless face, I watched the flames burn through the pages. The memories I once treasured twisted, charred, and were finally reduced to ashes under the heat. The two people inside the bathroom were still laughing, but the album in my hands was already burnt. As smoke rose from the damaged album, I walked to the trashcan in the corridor. The damaged, burnt album plunged into the trashcan with a thud. Some sparks flew, but it soon faded into the darkness.

"But what really happened here? Why is a book burnt?. I wrote quickly, my hand still trembling. I don't know. I touched one book and it started to burn. I dropped it. It was a weak lie, but it was all I had in that moment of panic. Suddenly, Noah's eyes caught something. He grabbed my hand roughly, turning it over. "You're burned." He was right. My hand was red and blistered from where I had held the burning book. I had been so terrified by what I'd read and by the fire that I hadn't even felt the pain.

“Renata, the books weren’t burnt. The victors burnt the copy of those books. The original ones are hidden somewhere else.” To be continued . . .

After collecting them, I found one last room in the building. The books were completely destroyed, pages burnt to the point where the words are unreadable, and the leather-bound titles melted into unrecognisable words. One book, however, I found hidden away in a cubby within a desk. Untouched by the fire that turned the rest to ash, I run my fingertips across the words on the cover. "The Great Demise: The Fall of the Moon Goddess"