Chapter 41 Riddle

Asher awoke in his bed, the warmth of the blankets cocooning him as sunlight streamed through the window. He rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes, blinking away the haze of dreams that lingered in his mind. Today felt different, charged with a sense of purpose that stirred him into action.

After a quick wash and dressing in his usual attire, he glanced around his modest apartment. The familiar surroundings brought him comfort. He grabbed a small satchel and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air.

Asher looked down and nearly kicked a parcel across the hallway. Just then, he caught sight of a blonde ponytail urgently turning the corner down the stairwell.

"Renee!" he called, amusement bubbling in his voice.

She froze, caught in the act, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Oh! I didn't think you'd be awake yet," she stammered, glancing at the parcel. "I was just… leaving a little something for you."

"A little something?" Asher lifted the parcel. The delicious aroma wafting from it was unmistakable—freshly baked goods. "You're spoiling me."

"I thought you could use a treat after your long nights of work," she replied, her voice softening. "And I figured you'd need something to keep you awake, considering how often you fall asleep at your desk."

He feigned offense, putting a hand to his chest. "I do not fall asleep at my desk!"

Renee raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile dancing on her lips. "Oh really? The last time I checked, you were dreaming about a bunch of ancient tomes. It was quite the sight."

Asher chuckled, his heart racing a little faster. "Well, they are rather enticing."

Renee stepped closer, a shy smile on her lips. "Do you have time for coffee before you go?"

"I could make time," he said, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "I wouldn't mind starting the day with you."

With a delighted laugh, she took his hand, leading him back inside. As they shared laughter and pastries, the world outside faded, leaving only the warmth of their connection.

But as the distant clang of a bell signaled the hour, Asher sighed. "I should get going; I have a lot to do today."

"Right," she said, a touch of disappointment in her voice. "But I'll be here whenever you need me. You know that, right?"

"Absolutely," he reassured her, feeling a swell of affection. "And I'll make sure to bring some of my discoveries back to share with you."

"Just try not to fall asleep on the way," she teased, her eyes sparkling.

After finishing their coffee, Asher rose to leave, feeling invigorated by their brief interlude. "Thank you for this. It means a lot to me," he said, glancing at the parcel in his hands.

"Take it with you. You'll need fuel for your brain," she urged.

With a chuckle, he stepped outside, the familiar sounds of the city enveloping him. "See you soon, Renee!" he called back.

"See you, Asher! And remember—stay awake!" she replied, her laughter echoing in his ears as he made his way to the office, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.

The walk to his office on Crestcheek Street took about fifteen minutes, and he used the time to gather his thoughts. He needed to collect the slate from his desk and prepare for a trip to the library, where he hoped to uncover the mysteries of the ancient text he had recently acquired.

Upon entering the office, he opened the door and greeted Liz, who had never looked so beautiful to him than when she brought a fresh coffee to his desk.

"An angel… perhaps a servant of the Night Goddess?" he mused.

Liz laughed. "Asher, you really need to take care of yourself."

She turned to leave, and Asher quickly grabbed the slate from his desk, following her out.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he tossed a coin into the air—a ritual he had come to trust. "Should I go to the library today?" he asked aloud, watching the coin spin. It landed with a soft thud—heads. A positive answer.

With renewed confidence, he locked up his office and carefully placed the slate within his satchel before heading back out into the streets. His footsteps echoed in the cobblestone alleyways, anticipation bubbling within him as he approached the library.

Upon entering the grand building, the familiar aroma of aged parchment and polished wood enveloped him, inviting him into its depths. He made his way to the upper floor, where the hermetic language dictionary was kept. The knowledge he sought was just a few steps away.

After a short search, he finally located the dusty tome, its pages crackling with age. With the dictionary in hand, he settled into a quiet nook near the staircase on the top floor. The soft light filtering through the windows created a warm atmosphere, perfect for concentration.

As he began to decipher the ancient script on his slate, hours melted away, the world around him fading into silence. The library felt like a sanctuary, a sacred space where knowledge whispered.

Soon, Asher made headway; he had translated most of the complicated words, and the picture was becoming clear. Unfortunately, the slate appeared to be a poem—a cruelly written one at that, full of riddles, he guessed. Until he deciphered it all, it was unlikely he could draw any meaning from it. Therefore, he set about his task.

Finally!

Enshrouded in frost, where shadows creep,

Traces of souls in a slumber so deep.

Echoes of whispers, their secrets untold,

Restless they linger, in silence they fold.

Nightmares awaken, the past held so tight,

As power is summoned from the depths of night.

Legacies linger, their essence remains,

Spirits entwined in the ring's cold chains.

Lost in the dance of the memories lost,

Under the weight of a heavy cost.

Magic unravels, both wondrous and dire,

Bound by the frost, one must never tire.

Entering realms where the echoes will sigh,

Remember, dear user, or your soul may f-