Opalina (prime)/Vignette: Endless Shelves of Secrets
Title: Endless Shelves of Secrets
Author: Opalina Jalcon
Endless Shelves of Secrets
Opalina wandered through the dim-lit aisles of the lost library, her fingers brushing against the dust-laden bloodwood bookcases, leaving faint trails on their ancient surfaces. She couldn’t read a single word, not the text sprawling across the yellowed pages, nor the elegant scrawls on brittle papyrus. Yet, she pressed on, determined. Her mission—no, her need—to find something amidst the countless volumes was more about instinct than literacy.
The violet orbs hovering above did little to brighten the eerie space. They cast only enough light to dance shadows between the stacks, creating the illusion of movement in the corners of her vision. The air was thick with the scent of time—old vellum, disintegrating paper, and a hint of dried leather.
Opalina sighed as she tugged on another worn tome, shaking it gently. A pink papyrus, moth-eaten at the edges, fluttered free. She snatched it from the air, examining the messy lines and simple drawings that covered it. It wasn’t letters she was looking for—it was diagrams, sketches, anything she could make sense of. And as her eyes focused, she recognized it immediately—a rudimentary outline of a pony, an arrow pointing toward a pasture.
“Aha!” she whispered, satisfied at the image before her. Her lips curved into a smile, but it quickly faded. She tucked the papyrus away, out of sight from prying eyes. Not everything she found would be handed over to the scholar, especially not this. She couldn't deny her growing unease about him. His requests, once seemingly innocent, now carried a hungry edge. He no longer showed interest in the humble aspects of Naidem—like her passion for helping the ponies—but instead craved more... arcane knowledge. His greed was palpable. "Why would he care about helping me with my ponies when there are far darker treasures to be found here?" she thought, growing more suspicious by the day.
Opalina had even confronted Ordim once, when she bumped into him during a frantic search. She had expressed her doubts, wondering aloud if there was more to this place than met the eye. “Do you think it’s forbidden? This library…” she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper, afraid that the shadows themselves were listening.
Ordim had laughed, brushing it off with a dismissive wave. “Nah, no one would let me into a forbidden library. What could they gain from someone like me?” But his words hadn’t given her the reassurance she sought. In fact, they had only deepened her suspicions. If not him, why me? she mused, staring at the countless documents, wondering just how many forbidden secrets lay buried among the volumes.
Her thoughts drifted back to the scholar. Could he be trusted? What information was he truly after, and what would he do with it? She had seen others come and go, equally absorbed in their searches. Were they all bringing him dangerous knowledge, unlocking something that should remain hidden? The idea gnawed at her, making her pace through the rows more quickly, frantically rifling through books, looking for anything—everything—related to her quest for the ponies.
She worked tirelessly, leafing through every scrap of paper, shaking every book, hoping that one forgotten drawing or note might finally give her the key to helping the ponies. The diagrams were her only guiding light, a glimmer of purpose in the dark corridors of knowledge that swirled around her.
Yet, even as she searched, the creeping realization settled in her bones—perhaps the scholar’s hunger for power wasn’t the only thing she should fear. Perhaps, somewhere in these haunted pages, there was something far worse waiting to be uncovered. With a final glance at the moth-eaten papyrus clutched in her hand, she sighed and dove back into the endless shelves, searching for the one paper, the one diagram that might reveal the last piece of the puzzle she sought.