Scrolling Books Novels & Stories

I told her. "For what?" she asked. "There's an old scroll I've been meaning to look at. Won't take long." Sofia The Moonveil bookstore wasn't like any shop I'd seen. Its tall, arched windows framed rows of shelves that climbed toward a ceiling painted with constellations. The scent of aged paper and incense clung to the air, wrapping around me like a whisper. While Theo went to speak with the shopkeeper, I wandered between the aisles. My fingers traced the spines of books bound in cracked leather, some with titles in languages I couldn't read.

This body’s got a mind of its own. “Uh, just... reading,” I stammer, grabbing a random book to hide my panic. My fingers fumble, and it falls open to a page about magical bindings. Fitting, since I feel bound to this plot. Ardyn’s smirk grows, and he leans against the table, close enough that I catch his scent, sandalwood and sin. My heart’s doing cartwheels, and I’m torn between squealing like the fangirl I am and bolting.

There was a faint draft here, and the air held an odd chill that raised goosebumps on my arms. “You’ll start here. I want these books dusted, sorted by region, and placed alphabetically. The scrolls go in the bins by date.” It was monotonous work, but better than dealing with Willow and Raven. I worked in silence for hours. The sound of paper rustling and crates scraping the floor filled the room. As I reached for a scroll on the bottom shelf, my hand brushed something odd—cool metal beneath layers of dust. I cleared it away to reveal a small box. It had gone dark with age. There were no inscriptions, no markings—it was just… tucked away.

My steps fall silent occasionally as I cross large, intricately woven rugs scattered about. I head straight for the aisle Celeste pointed out, offering her a small wave before disappearing between the labyrinth of bookshelves. Each section is marked with hand-carved plaques, their inscriptions barely legible in the dim light. They guide the way to different realms of knowledge: Alchemy, Herbology, History, and more. The books themselves are bound in various shades of leather, some adorned with golden leaves, others with intricate metal clasps. Many are so ancient that their titles have worn away, leaving only the texture of the leather to hint at the secrets within.

But what catches my eye is s a stack of books I’ve never seen before. They are in several different shades of blue, but all covered in the same material. It looks like a leather but more textured, maybe another animal hide? They have the most beautiful gold writing on them and I am just simply, drawn to them. I want to sit with them and hold them, I want to stroke the covers and open them but not just read them I want to devour the contents of these books. It’s a weird feeling. I feel as drawn to them as I do to Leo.

The Administrator’s form contracted, screens and pages drawing tighter, code‑threads coiling. Then it struck. Whole rows of shelves around the clearing jerked to life, wrenching themselves up from the ground like they were on invisible hinges. Hundreds of books spilled forward; the first shelf tipped fully over, slamming down in a chain reaction. Like dominoes. “Move!” Jax shouted. We scattered. Corvin grabbed my arm and yanked me clear as a wall of falling shelves slammed into the spot where I’d been standing. The impact shook the stone under our feet, a booming crack that sent up a storm of loose pages and splintered wood.

Some old collections rich people used to show off to their fellow rich people There was a large desk in the corner with an antique-looking lamp on top, the bulb seemed to be lit but not on, there were strange-looking books, some with leather covers, others paper, some old, some brand new with pages that fell open and wrinkled under my fingers. There were even some books with gold writing on the cover but none of them looked like they were readable, I picked up the nearest one, it was titled in Latin. Opening the book carefully, the first page was blank except for two black lines that started from the middle of it, it looked like someone had drawn something underneath them. They weren't word

The windows faced the gardens, and the morning light was golden and warm and poured across the reading chairs like honey. She ran her fingers along the spines. Classics, histories, business books that probably belonged to Alexander. Nothing that looked even remotely interesting. “Where do they keep the fun books?” She moved to a different shelf where the light didn't quite reach. There were older volumes here—paperbacks mixed with hardcovers, spines cracked from actual use instead of just decoration. “This is more like it.” She crouched down, scanning titles. A thriller, a mystery and finally a romance with a cover so embarrassingly dramatic she almost laughed out loud. She reached for it an

Libro Vitae whispered its voice harmonious. "Libro Vitae, please show me where Alastair is hiding," I asked. The book hummed in response. Libro Vitae became warm in my hands. The cover opened, pages flipped continuously until they suddenly stopped. The words on the page jumped off the paper, floating into the air, wrapping themselves around me. In a blink of an eye, I was pulled into the book. Light flooded my vision. Every sound echoed around me. Voices raced past me, speaking in riddles. Some shouting, screaming, others a dull whisper. Libro Vitae's voice became louder as I watched the trees form around me.

With quickened footsteps, she dashed to the shelf and found only two books still laying. Eyes closed and the outside world shut completely. "Focus and you shall get what you want!" She silently said to herself with hands that were raised halfway to the books. As soon as she opened her eyes, the bold, gold letters glowed on the backside of the two books. They began to mechanically shake and eventually fell from the shelf to her hands. "The Waters Beneath Will Deliver—The Winds Shall Redeem Me From NERIDA." "Why are there two books?" Amethyst halted to browse the black covered book. She only got a glimpse of the inside of the book which was empty. Turning to the gold-covered book, she glimpsed