The Book Burned Novels & Stories

Athena sneers, turning as if to stalk out of the room, “Do what you want, daughter of Hades. The book is already destroyed, and the story will now be forgotten… as it should be.” A grim fairytale best left forgotten. When Proserpina was sure that the goddess was already gone, she allowed the shadows to bring what was left of the book back to her, fingers ghosting over the pages. The story of corruption will now be no more… The book is burned. Athena is right. The book is already beyond saving. And yet–

POV: Zara Moon The old book burst into flames in my hands. I screamed and dropped it, watching ages of magical knowledge turn to ash on the library floor. The smell of burned paper filled the air as I hurriedly tried to stamp out the fire. "What did you do?" Celeste rushed over, her face frightened. "That was the only copy of the Shadowmere Chronicles!" "I don't know!" I was close to tears. "I was just reading about blue fire magic, and suddenly it just—"

The page he had opened was burnt off. “This is the second book with Odette that has a page missing just when it's about to become about her!” he declared, the tone of his voice increasing in irritation. My heart dropped to my stomach once more as I quickly flipped through the pages of the book in my hands. But just as Cassian had observed, the pages of the book with me were also burnt off at the page that was supposed to be about Odette… “No… No…” I mumbled as I quickly started flipping through the rest of the books.

He said it flat, almost rehearsed, like he'd practiced the sentence in the car on the way over so it wouldn't come out sounding as broken as it actually was. The apartment was quiet except for the sound of pages turning. Somewhere down the hall, I could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, ordinary and out of place against the weight of what we were holding. George read over my shoulder, his jaw tightening with every page. "This isn't just leverage against you, Darian. This is a live confession of a crime. If this is accurate, Selena poisoned you deliberately, over years, and your mother buried it instead of reporting it."

I ran to him, throwing myself into the dirt beside him, my tears washing the ash from his face. "We burned the page," he whispered, his eyes looking up at the unwritten margins of the sky. "We had to," I said, my gray-stained hand resting over his quiet heart. "A story that can't be edited is a story that can't be saved." From the shadows of the willow pavilion, the stranger who held the book stepped out into the morning light. He didn't look at the rusted iron giants or the blood in the snow. He looked at the leather book, where the hole in the third page was still smoking, its edges blackened by the fire of our defense.

Dante said. He took it from the shelf. He held it — this book that he'd held in a different edition at seven years old in this library in this city, that had traveled with him across four countries and six years and eventually disappeared somewhere in the geography of an existence that hadn't had much room for things that didn't serve operational purposes. He held it for a long time. "Are you all right?" Elian said. "Yes," Dante said. "I'm — " He looked at the book. He looked at the window of the library and the Cardiff grey outside it and the greenness of the Welsh trees. He looked at Elian.

One day, when we were drinking together, he reached out to cup my cheek for the first time. Under the moonlight, as his lips slowly moved toward mine, I shyly closed my eyes. But the kiss I awaited never happened. When I opened my eyes, he had disappeared. After that day, he rejected all of my calls and attempts to reach him. He refused to see me, even when I went to the fire department. I was lost. Every day, I waited at the entrance of the fire department just to see him and ask him why he was being like that. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore and rushed into the fire department with a bouquet of roses.

Then he's leaning over, lifting my hands toward my headboard. "No!" I scream. "No. no." I pull my arms down with all the energy I have and manage to wretch one hand free. I reach for something, anything on my nightstand. All I'm able to grab is a fucking book. Good enough. I try to slam it into his head, but he grips my hand again, squeezing my knuckles together so tightly, it feels like the bones might snap. I cry out in pain and drop it. "Please," I pant as he crawls up my chest.

“We need to move.” I nodded, wrapping my arms around Alexei as I stood. He clung to me, his small body still trembling. I pressed a kiss against his forehead and I met Nikolai’s gaze, my voice like steel. “We burn this freaking place to the ground.” And we did. --- The flames devoured everything. The scent of burning flesh, of charred wood and metal, filled the air. The screams were long gone, replaced by the crackle of fire, by the collapse of a building that would never see another day.

Mariah asked, “If it’s dangerous, why to keep it?” Immediately a fire started right at the heart of the book causing Anna and Mariah to gasp, leaning back as Abigail watched the fire Ena had started right in between the pages of the book till it died out. Ena put her hand down withdrawing the fire, "it has been tried, but as you can see, it can't be destroyed. This is not a regular book. This is not just dark magic," she replied and the witches were awed at the sight of the book which stood proudly the same as before.