I stood in front of Piscean's largest library, that adorned the grounds of the Winter Gala, my mind buzzing with questions. Determination hardened overnight with consistent turning and tossing in bed, I now knocked on the only door I knew that was capable of giving me a clue. My father used to say, that the door of a library is always open, even when all the other doors are closed.
The inside of the library had a quaint ambiance. There were huge high-ceilinged shelves all painted in various shades of blue, with books of all kind, old and new, dusty and shiny, thick and thin, good and... Well, all books are good and wonderful. It was, undoubtedly, the most majestic library that I had ever seen, however, it had one thing in common with all the other libraries - the hypnotic musky smell of books.
I had to submit an identification proof to be able to explore this level. After the Head Librarian was convinced that I was of age, as stated on my Corresponders badge, he had branded my arm with a stamp of approval. I looked at the blue glittery mark at the back of my left hand's wrist, which was shaped like an open book with a picture of a cute ice-dragon on its pages. I knew it would vanish as soon as I'd leave the library, but for a fleeting moment, I wished it wouldn't.
The luxurious library was five-storied, each floor exhibiting a different category of books. I climbed one of the small spiral staircases and was exhausted by the time I reached the topmost landing. I looked down, but vertigo got the better of me. I read the huge banner off a wall - 'Ancient Sorcery' - and shushed the rising sense of fear in me.
I needed answers, answers about my unholy powers. No matter how horrible they'd be, I was going to get to the bottom of this conundrum. And the answers resided amongst the pages tinted with black magic.
I meandered a little to the farthest end, pondering over which books would be my best bait. I was aware of the ideology that most of the old historians carried - those who were Born of Two Realms, were nothing but evil - Abomination. And the books here, looked as ancient as the Throne itself.
A high shelf with voluminous archaic books, faced me. Inhaling their scent deeply, I started rummaging through the organized stack of leatherbound books. I put my fingers between each of them, slowly, glancing through the covers, reading the titles.
After searching through a few more rows of shelves, I skipped a beat as my eyes fell on a heavy glit-edged, crimson-black book. History of Marks.
I pulled it out with trembling hands. Walking on light feet, I reached the center of the place, where a huge circular table lay, with ornate chairs around it. I took a seat on one of the chairs, and flipped open the book.
My hands trembled as rampant thoughts ran in my head - what after I get the answers? What after I find out what my Mark was?
Was I ready to accept this? Ready to accept whichever secret power I harbored in my veins?
Gulping, I looked for the word 'Luesha'. I turned page after page, as the normal Marks of all the Houses passed by. A dreadful knot in my stomach screamed - I would never get one like that.
No, mine would be an amalgamation of two Marks.
I stopped suddenly as a crisp old page with verses written in a horrifying font, slipped between my fingers. Marks of Abomination. I felt a chill spread over me as I read it -
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The Throne of the Four Realms ✔Fantasy
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