Disbelief Papyrus Novels & Stories

Maya tho‌ught abo‌ut goi‍ng ins⁠ide but what w‍oul‌d she ev​en say. She did not know what she believed⁠ anymor‍e⁠,⁠ did not know if Adri​an was‌ a broken man​ tr⁠yi‌ng to atone⁠ or a manipul⁠at⁠or who had​ fooled her⁠ completely. Ga⁠br‌iel's documents s​uggested one truth while her ow‍n experienc​es suggested a​nother and Maya ha⁠d no‍ way to r⁠econcile them‍.

Corpa listened to their news with an angry frown. “Are you saying killing this thing would invite disaster in the kingdom?” He asked finally. “Killing the child, will invite disaster upon the land.” Donton nodded. “Are you sure you are not misinterpreting that scroll?” Nessa scoffed. “ It might even be a fake. There is no way the Goddess would want such an ugly thing kept alive.” “The scroll is definitely not fake.” The Library Master said, annoyed by her insolence. “It is highly sacred, and the interpretation is clear. Kill the child and see disaster upon our land.”

NATHALIE’S POV 🍃 – I remain uneasy about the answer he gave. “You’re right, I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me right away.” he continued. He faced the laptop my way, where it was already open and one of the flash drives was plugged into it. “Watch this, and you’ll understand I’m telling the truth, and those medical documents and history regarding Calix aren’t fabricated at all.” The laptop screen is on a paused video. It’s still black and nothing can be seen.

Except for her grandfather's old diary, she has no one who has witnessed the entire thing to explain to her this Damn truth. "What? Are you serious?" You're telling me that I should believe what's written in diary. No way! A diary is one's imaginary friend; some even write their dreams in it. And you're telling me to believe such an important thing based solely on what's written in the diary. Seriously!! This was her first reaction as she turned over the coloured-in pages of her grandfather's old dairy, in which he used to talk about his scientific researches. The last pages of that diary were critically disastrous, forbidden text to read because it was about an incident that occurred 50 yea

They began investigating it curiously. A wooden table was placed in the middle of the basement. It was occupied by the wreck of parchments, quills and an old, leather diary. Leo moved towards the table trying to find something that can help them acknowledge the situation. He began examining the hand made parchments. “Did you find anything?” Adi asked curiously. “Nothing much. Some very old handmade papers and a diary.” He pushed the diary towards Adi as it was empty when he checked. He continued taking a look at the parchments. He felt intrigued by its thick structure as he had never seen something like this.

“What do you believe it is.” Dieter looked at him. Then at me. “I believe it is evidence that someone knew where to go and arrived before the emergency services were called.” The place was quiet. I looked at the window. At the ordinary street outside. Then, back at the folder. Eleven transactions. A falsified death declaration. A twenty-two minute discrepancy in a hospital record from twelve years ago. Handwriting analysis. Backdated documents. A notary who was on a plane when she was supposed to be certifying a signature.

The knowledge of the lie settled into my jaw, locking my teeth against the bitter taste of a commitment made in the dark. Then the heavy basalt pack stone resting in my breast pocket lurched. It pulled free of the wool by itself, rising into the dead air between us. The stone split down the center with a sharp, tectonic crack, a harsh white light burning out from the core. The mineral grain dissolved, unspooling into a long, pale parchment that hovered in the air before my eyes. The script was written in the high formal ink of the council:

The priestess’s own name was etched into the record. Maera lifted her chin, her mask sliding back into place. “A damaged page is not a verdict.” Mira answered quietly, her voice carrying through the charged air. “No. But it is no longer buried.” Corvin demanded the record be sealed for formal review, pointing to the burned lower section where the most critical information had been destroyed. “The page is incomplete,” he declared. “It cannot be trusted as final evidence.” Uncertainty began to sway the room back toward doubt. Then Mira’s open-eye mark burned. Cassia’s bracelet seared in answer. Beneath the floorboards, the lower door trembled as a focused howl rose from below.

The First Keeper smiled faintly. "You wondered when the right moment would come." He nodded toward the letter. "It has." Adrian's fingers trembled as he broke the ancient wax seal. The crack echoed unnaturally loud. Inside was a single sheet of paper. No long explanation. Only six handwritten sentences. He read them aloud. "If you are reading this..." "Then the Author has finally awakened." Adrian stopped. His heart pounded. He continued. "Do not trust what your eyes see." "Do not trust what history remembers."

He snapped a picture of the page before holding the screen in front of me. Well… Fuck a duck. The first sentence appeared perfectly clear in the photograph. The second wasn’t a sentence at all. It looked exactly the way he’d described it. Ancient symbols covered the bottom half of the page, completely unreadable. I blinked several times before lowering the phone. Then I looked back at the journal lying open in front of me. To my eyes… The second line was still perfectly readable. Word for word. Trust no crown. Trust the man willing to lose it.