Familiar Diary

Luciana's eyes fluttered open, her surroundings shrouded in an eerie darkness despite the torches flickering along the walls. Something was unnatural about them—their dim light pulsed as though reacting to her presence. As the glow slowly expanded, she became aware of the warmth beneath her.

A soft whimper met her ears. She glanced down and found herself sprawled atop a familiar black-furred form.

"Leo!" she gasped, hastily rising to her feet. "Are you hurt?"

Her hands skimmed over the wolf's sleek coat, searching for any sign of injury. The great beast only huffed, its golden eyes calm, and nuzzled her in reassurance.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, wrapping her arms around the creature. "You saved me… and my child."

Leo licked her cheek, accepting the gratitude before stepping back.

Luciana took in her surroundings. Shadowy corridors stretched endlessly to either side, their depths veiled in obscurity. Her brows furrowed.

"This must be the basement," she deduced, reaching for one of the torches. It resisted at first, as though affixed to the iron sconce, before finally yielding to her grasp.

The flickering light barely cut through the oppressive darkness. She exhaled sharply, steadying herself.

"We need to find a way out," she told the wolf.

Her thoughts strayed—he must have noticed her absence by now. Erebus was not one to remain idle. The mere thought of his reaction sent a strange warmth creeping up her neck.

She shook her head. Why am I thinking about him again?

Leo cocked his head, sensing his mistress's unease.

Luciana refocused, her ears straining for any hint of an exit. A faint whisper of wind reached her, threading through the damp air.

"A draft," she murmured. "That means there's a way out."

She lifted her gaze, but the ceiling above was solid stone—too thick and heavy for her to move, even if she could fly.

"Leo, lead the way," she urged, brushing her fingers against the wolf's head.

With a flick of her tail, the beast bounded forward, guiding Luciana deeper into the labyrinthine passageways. The air grew colder, the silence heavier. The further they ventured, the more nausea clawed at Luciana's stomach.

Minutes passed like an eternity. Then—

A distant, haunting wail echoed through the tunnels.

Luciana's steps faltered. The air thickened with the unmistakable stench of decay—rotting meat, blood, damp stone.

"A dungeon?" she whispered, covering her mouth.

The cries grew louder as she descended a narrow flight of steps. The temperature plummeted. Chains rattled beyond the thick iron doors lining the corridor. It was darker here, the kind of darkness that swallowed souls whole.

She had heard of this place. Erebus had spoken of it once—a prison buried so deep that even the sun had forgotten it. Criminals who committed the worst atrocities were entombed here, forsaken by the world.

Leo suddenly whined, ears flattening against his head.

"What is it?" Luciana asked.

Then, she heard it—footsteps approaching from behind.

She spun, torch raised. Leo bared his fangs, a low snarl rumbling in his throat.

A figure emerged from the shadows.

A man, clad in a servant's garb.

Luciana narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening around the torch.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you find us?"

The man hesitated before speaking. "I… I got lost," he said cautiously, his gaze flickering toward the wolf. "I'm a new servant here."

Luciana studied him. Something about him felt off.

"You fell through one of the traps too?" she asked, probing further.

"Apparently, yes."

Leo snapped his jaws, forcing him to retreat a step.

"But," he continued quickly, "I don't think we should separate. It would be wiser to work together to find a way out."

Leo lunged, teeth flashing, but Luciana placed a hand on her back, calming the beast.

"Hush, Leo," she whispered. "We can't risk unnecessary bloodshed."

The wolf whined, pressing protectively against her side, his distrust evident.

Luciana hesitated. The man's words seemed logical, yet something about him unsettled her. His mannerisms didn't fit that of an ordinary servant.

Still, she had no other leads.

"Fine," she relented. "But I trust that you mean no harm."

"I swear it," he assured her.

Leo, however, remained unconvinced, keeping a watchful eye on him.

They retraced their steps, moving away from the dungeon's depths. The oppressive air gradually lifted, yet Leo's restlessness only worsened.

The moment they stepped into a vast chamber, Luciana halted, her breath catching.

Before her stretched towering shelves, each lined with ancient scrolls, maps, and stone tablets. Flickering torches illuminated the space one by one, revealing its sheer immensity.

"A library?" she breathed in astonishment.

The air smelled of parchment and time itself. She reached for a worn scroll, dusting off its fragile surface. Symbols unfamiliar to most, yet eerily recognizable to her, danced across the aged parchment.

Leo sneezed as dust billowed into the air.

Luciana's fingers traced the glyphs. They resembled the lost script of Amanécerians, intertwined with the symbols once spoken in Kemet.

Then, her eyes landed on something startling.

A map.

"Luo Wei?" she read aloud.

Her heart pounded. That was the ancient name for Zhonguo Republic.

Was Stygian once part of Zhonguo?

She had read of Wahrheit's conquests—how it had carved its empire from the bones of fallen realms. The human world was now split into four great empires:

Zhonguo Republic, the largest, free from monarchy, known for its silk and tea culture. The closest to Wahrheit.

Kemet, built upon scorching deserts, devoted to the gods Ra and Anubis. The land famous for its colossal pyramids.

The Kingdom of Maya, a nation built on islands in south, dense with evergreen forests and steeped in ancient rituals.

The Achaemenid Empire, the wealthiest, its riches flowing from spice trade and finest war horses.

A gentle tap on her shoulder jolted her from her thoughts.

She turned sharply to find the servant standing behind her.

"You were lost in thought," he remarked. "Can you read those symbols?"

Luciana hesitated before nodding. "Some of them."

He gestured upward. "That's where I fell from."

She followed his gaze to a fractured section of the ceiling. If he had indeed fallen through a trap, there had to be a mechanism to escape.

"We should search for another exit," she suggested.

He nodded in agreement, and together they combed through the library.

Luciana sifted through the stacks, her fingers brushing against another scroll, this one smaller than the rest. Something about it felt… familiar.

She unrolled it carefully. It was not just one sheet but a bundle rolled together.

Her breath hitched.

The handwriting—elegant yet hurried, ink faded but unmistakable—sent a shiver down her spine.

Her hands trembled.

"It can't be… this is mother's handwriting."