The Cemetery Of Lost Books นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I muttered as I ran toward my chambers, driven by a strange pull, a gut feeling that something was there waiting for me. In my room, I scanned my surroundings, something drawing me to a concealed compartment behind my bookshelf. I opened it, finding a small, worn book—a diary. My heart sank as I opened it, the words inside telling a dark, familiar story. This wasn’t just any diary; this was Luna Nora’s collection of secrets, a meticulous record of every vile act, every betrayal. The curses, the deaths, the machinations that had torn my family apart—it was all here.

Magic hums here—raw, unpruned, the kind that remembers blood oaths and forgotten kings. Torches gutter as I pass, bowing their flames toward me. The Scriptorium opens like a wound in the earth: a vast hollow lined with shelves that lean under their own secrets. Tomes of bark-bound vellum, scrolls inked in languages that died before the stars learned their names. I move between the rows, fingers skimming cracked spines. Whispers breathe against my ears, too old to belong to any living tongue. I let them guide me, a current beneath thought.

Vaelspire Keep, The Forbidden Vault The Vault doors groaned open, revealing shelves lined with tomes bound in skin and bone. All the ancient and forbidden books of the old were stored and recorded there. Books with knowledge too ancient, too powerful, and useful to their enemies were stored here. Alaric stepped inside, torch in hand, his eyes scanning until they found the one he needed. It read, Bloodborne Bonds: Curses, Hybrids, and Abominations. He flipped through the pages, stopping when he saw an illustration that made his heart freeze.

I asked, forcing my voice to remain completely steady and unbothered. "No," Clara stammered. "Rumor has it that the old archivist said it was not in the main library. He said it was buried deep in the forbidden catacombs beneath the castle. The tunnels are collapsing and full of ancient traps. The scholars said it was a death trap." I let out a soft, mocking laugh. "So the Warlord is stuck. He cannot send a weak scholar into a death trap, and he cannot leave his fragile mate to go down there himself."

The discovery of the black book changed the mood of the expedition more effectively than any warning could have. Until that moment, the ruins had inspired a strange mixture of caution and excitement. Every new street promised answers. Every buried structure hinted at forgotten history. The book felt different. It sat at the center of the library like a challenge, silent and unmoving, yet impossible to ignore. Even those who had little interest in ancient records found themselves glancing toward it whenever conversation faltered.

Susan nods at the woman, confirming it. "Yes, very. It's a function that was embedded into the library during its creation, by my mother, so no book could be lost, and all books could be 'called back' at the end of the year." Susan explained to the librarian. Irma Pince was almost drooling at the idea of recovering all the library's lost books. Susan chuckled looking at the woman's face. "It seems that you were not wise to this function." Susan said. Madam Pince nodded. "I have never read about it in any place."

For answers that the Heartstone, the rift, and even Morwen’s confession hadn’t given me. So I returned to the library fully now. Not the main hall,but the far win,the abandoned shelves. The place where forgotten books gathered dust like old regrets. No one went there. Not even the librarians. It was said that the books there had nothing useful,only outdated theories, broken incantations, and failed experiments. But sometimes, the most dangerous truths hide in plain sight… or in plain neglect. That afternoon, I went to the library alone. I wasn't looking for any book in particular. I ran my fingers along the spines, listening to the silence and allowing it to guide me.

I hid it in the only place I knew it wouldn't be found, at least not by my kind. His shoulders slumped slightly as he looked back down at the book in his lap, his palm now stroking the cover, his thumb brushing up and down the spine. A flicker of pain darkened his features. 'I lied about it feeling like losing a limb,' he said, bitterness creeping into his voice and twisting it into something harder, colder. 'It was like cutting my fucking heart out of my chest and leaving it there to bleed out on a dusty shelf for centuries. I might not have been carrying the burden of it anymore, but I carried the pain of losing it every single fucking day. It was the only thing I had left of them. My last

Nine remained. And one of them? Was crossed out by someone else. LOCATION: EDGE OF THE OLD CITY – ABANDONED LIBRARY TIME: 8:33 a.m. The books here were rotting. Histories no one wanted. Bloodlines no one respected. Solene moved through them like a shadow without a past because the stories left inside these walls were the kind that erased people like her. She knelt in the back corner. Pulled a volume from the stone shelf. Dust covered the title:

Terribly wrong. "He's changed," Siron whispered, more to himself. "Since the tomb... he's fighting something inside him." Kit took a deep breath. "You said your mother told you to look for records. We brought this book." He produced a thick book he had managed to grab from the shelf before fleeing. Its cover was worn brown, inscribed with Gothic letters: Die Verlorenen Chroniken von Aethelford (The Lost Chronicles of Aethelford). The Self-Falling Book. When the hands chased them, this book had slid from the high shelf and fallen right in front of Siron's feet, as if pointing to itself.