Words In A Book Novels & Stories

The book wasn’t here, yet the words burned clearly across my vision. My breath ceased. I could read the message written on the page. This is not the first time it has happened.

I wanted to be enraged but I didn't understand how to feel about a book laughing at me. After what seemed like forever, the book stopped and laid back on the table. "'What is the secret word?"' the book said, with traces of laughter in its voice. I didn't have time for the book's games. I had less than 30 hours to train and prepare myself for the challenge. The book wasn't helping matters. I said the next thing that came to my mind. "Alizon. The gem of Alizon." The book kept quiet then flipped its pages open. It stopped at one and words began to appear on them. Once that was done, a mist of glow came out from the book.

He was looking for the red string. Tania didn't answer him, just flipped open the notebook and held it out for him to see. When William saw the contents, his eyes widened in shock. Every page, every line, was filled with crooked, messy handwriting. Tania said nothing, but William couldn't stop his lips from trembling. After a long pause, Tania spoke softly.

Now what am I supposed to do? I decided to go through some books in the library to get a clue on what to do. I’ve read about enchanted books in passing. Perhaps, this could be one of them. I moved around the library, moving towards the section of magic books till I stumbled upon a book titled. “The magic of enchanted words” I picked it up and sat on one of the chairs in the empty library. I glanced through, looking till my eyes caught something. “Enchanted books cannot be unlocked unless a code is used. The codes can come in different forms but one of the most popular ones is the enchanted book giving a particular task to a wolf before the wolf can unlock the book,” I read out loud to myself

And the book… the book calls to her, whispers to her, its voice a seductive murmur in the back of her mind. With a deep breath, Demika opens the book. The pages are yellowed with age, the ink faded but still legible. The writing is in an ancient script, one that she has only seen in the oldest of the Wiccan texts. But as she scans the pages, the words seem to rearrange themselves before her eyes, transforming into a language she can understand.

she whispered, but the words were swallowed by the air around her. Then she saw it—a large, old book in front of her, resting on a pedestal. It was glowing faintly, its pages turning on their own as if guided by an unseen hand. There was a strange swan-like symbol in the center of the book, surrounded by a circle of light. The brightness almost hurt her eyes, but she couldn’t look away.

She held it for Ashford to see. "Why are there words there now?" Ashford took the book from her and glanced at it. The words that were in the books disappeared, like nothing had ever been written on them. Ashford showed the book to her. "Empty." She placed her hand on the book, and the words were back. Realization suddenly hit her; she was a forbidden hybrid, and only if she touched the book were the words going to appear on them. She grabbed the book from Ashford and flipped through the pages. There was going to be a part where they talked about other hybrids. Since the other plans they had made were ruined, she had to come up with something else.

Unlock it, and the empty pages shall be filled for you to read. I stare at the words for a long time. Read them again. And again. “What does that even mean,” I mutter under my breath. Within me. Unlock it. Empty pages. I flip to the next page. Blank. The one after that. Blank. I start flipping faster now. Page after page after page, all clean, untouched, mocking me with their silence. No hidden ink. No symbols. No diagrams. Nothing. Just white paper. My grip tightens on the book until my knuckles ache.

‎ ‎Appearing as silence. ‎ ‎Always this. ‎ ‎Never not this. ‎ ‎The light that is. ‎ ‎The love that is. ‎ ‎The being that is. ‎ ‎The silence that is. ‎ ‎The word that is. ‎ ‎The meaning that is. ‎ ‎The understanding that is. ‎ ‎Only this. ‎ ‎The book is complete. ‎ ‎Without completion. ‎ ‎The story is over. ‎ ‎Without over. ‎ ‎The reader is awake. ‎ ‎Without waking.

She sighed and was about to close it when something caught her eye, a book, old and thin, wedged tightly against the inner corner of the wardrobe, almost hidden. Curious, Nyxoria reached for it. Her fingers brushed over the worn leather cover, and the moment she touched it, a strange chill ran down her spine. She pulled it free and stared at it, holding it carefully in both hands. The book was ancient. The leather binding was cracking and faded, and its pages looked yellowed and brittle. She opened it slowly, and the very first thing she noticed was the handwriting. It wasn’t like anything she had seen before, it was beautiful but that wasn't what caught her eyes. It was the words that were