That night, Lucien did not truly sleep.
He did manage to close his eyes, but every time he was on the verge of drifting off, the sentence from the black book resurfaced in his mind, as though someone were repeating it right beside his ear.
If this book still exists... then we failed to disappear.
Lucien turned over, then stared at the dim ceiling of his dorm room.
In his twenty years of life, he had read thousands of books. Some were boring, some changed the way he viewed history, and some were so terrible they did not deserve a place on a library shelf.
But he had never encountered a book that managed to unsettle him... with only a single sentence.
He let out a slow breath. “Maybe I really am overthinking this.”
He tried to find a more rational explanation, but everything seemed irrational because of the way the book had been placed on that shelf.
Lucien knew the Restricted Archive almost as well as he knew the layout of his own room. He knew which books were missing, which had been checked out, and even which shelves were starting to be eaten away by termites.
And he was certain... there had been no black book there yesterday afternoon. That certainty only made him more uneasy.
If his memory was correct, then something impossible had happened. If his memory was wrong... that meant he was beginning to doubt his own abilities.
Morning arrived with air that was still cold. Dew hung from the tips of the trees lining the campus grounds. A few custodians were sweeping up dry leaves, while the students arriving early could still be counted on one hand.
Lucien walked toward the library without hurrying. He had no intention of meeting with the Professor yet. He only wanted to sit for a while, enjoy the quiet, and straighten out his thoughts.
He had just set his bag down on the wooden bench in front of the library when a familiar voice came from behind him.
“I knew you’d be here.”
Lucien turned with a faint smile.
Elara Voss approached him with a cup of something hot in each hand. They had been friends since their freshman year. Elara was specializing in ancient botany, but she spent more time in the university greenhouse than in the classroom. Unlike the quiet Lucien, Elara could almost always get people talking, even when they actually wanted to be left alone.
“I brought you hot chocolate.”
“Can you read minds?”
“I can.” Elara held out one of the cups. “That’s how I know you haven’t had breakfast.”
Lucien chuckled. “That’s not mind reading.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just because you know me too well,” Lucien snorted.
“Well, then I succeeded,” Elara said with a laugh.
They sat side by side. For a while, neither of them spoke. Lucien watched the students beginning to fill the campus grounds.
“You’re spacing out again.” Elara’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Hm?”
“Is history giving you a headache again?”
Lucien gave a faint smile. “You could say that.”
Elara studied him for a few moments. “Lucien.”
“Yes?”
“In the three years we’ve been friends, I’ve learned one thing.”
“What?”
“When you start going quiet for longer than usual, it means something is really bothering you.”
Lucien slowly rotated the cup in his hands. He actually wanted to tell her. But the image of Professor Whitmore’s face came back to him. “Don’t tell anyone about this book.” That sentence felt far heavier this morning.
“I’m just thinking about my research.”
“What research?”
Lucien shrugged. “Have you ever felt like... something was missing, even though you didn’t know what it was?”
Elara furrowed her brow in confusion. “That’s a weird question.”
“I know.” Lucien let out a heavy breath. “But have you ever felt that way?”
Elara thought for a long while before slowly nodding. “If I’ve lost my room key, then yes.”
Lucien laughed. “Not like that.”
“I’m kidding.” Elara smiled too. “Go on.”
Lucien looked at the library building in front of them. “Say you’re reading a story. It has a beginning, and it has an ending.” “But somehow, the middle feels... missing.”
Elara followed his gaze. “And then?”
“Everyone still believes the story is complete.”
“You’re the only one who feels like something is missing,” Elara said.
Lucien nodded. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about.”
Elara fell silent.
She did not answer immediately, as she usually did. “If something is missing, then someone must have taken it.”
That simple answer made Lucien look at her. “Why do you think that?”
“Because something can’t just disappear on its own.”
For a moment, they both fell silent. The sentence sounded simple, yet Lucien felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
What if Elara was right? What if history had truly existed—and had been taken?
“Hey!” A loud voice from the distance immediately shattered the serious mood.
A tall young man jogged toward them, waving one hand. Rolls of technical drawings stuck out of his bag, nearly falling out every few steps.
“That’s Rowan,” Elara muttered with a helpless shake of her head.
Rowan Hale was an architectural engineering student and Lucien’s best friend since orientation. If Lucien always thought before speaking, Rowan often spoke first and only started thinking afterward. Somehow, that trait always managed to liven things up.
“Finally, I found you!” he shouted as soon as he reached them.
Lucien raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“Professor Whitmore is looking for you.”
The faint smile on Lucien’s face slowly disappeared. “He’s here already?”
Rowan nodded. “And it looks like he wants to see you as soon as possible.”
Lucien stood and reached for his bag. Suddenly, the calm he had felt a few minutes earlier evaporated. For some reason... he felt that his next conversation with Professor Whitmore would take his curiosity farther than he had ever imagined.
Lucien found Professor Whitmore already in his office.
Unlike usual, the old wooden desk that was always covered in stacks of books now looked far tidier. There was only a desk lamp, a few sheets of notes, and the black book lying in the center, as though it had deliberately been kept away from everything else.
The Professor was standing in front of the window when Lucien knocked.
“Come in.”
Lucien stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Professor, you wanted to see me?”
Whitmore nodded slowly. “Sit down.”
Lucien quickly took the chair across from the desk. Several seconds passed without a word. The Professor seemed to be gazing at the campus grounds beyond the window before finally turning around.
“I’ve been thinking about that book all night.”
Lucien leaned forward without realizing it. “Did you find anything, Professor?”
Whitmore gave a faint smile. “That’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t find anything.”
Lucien furrowed his brow.
“Not because the book is empty. We already know that.” The Professor sat back down.
“What troubles me is that in more than thirty years of studying history, I have never once found a record pointing to the existence of a book like this.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No.” The Professor shook his head firmly. “And that is precisely what makes me uneasy.”
Lucien fell silent.
He had always regarded Professor Whitmore as someone who knew nearly everything there was to know about ancient history. Hearing him admit his own ignorance felt far more unsettling than any answer could have been.
The Professor opened one of the desk drawers and took out a campus map. “Lucien.”
“Yes, Professor?”
“If you find one anomaly, don’t chase after that anomaly right away.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Look for another anomaly.”
Lucien studied the map without truly understanding what he meant.
The Professor picked up a pencil.
“Imagine you’re putting together a puzzle.” He drew a small dot. “If you only have one piece, you won’t know what the bigger picture is.”
The pencil moved to another point. “But when you find a second piece, you start to understand where to look.”
Lucien slowly nodded. “So you mean... I should look for other clues?”
“Exactly. But not only clues about the book itself. Look for clues about the world around it that might be connected.”
The room fell silent again.
Lucien stared at the black book on the desk. “Then... where should I start?”
The Professor thought for a moment. “Forget the history books for now.”
“Forget them?”
“History books are often written after all the events are over, not where the events began or while they were still taking place.”
“Then what came first?”
“Try looking at maps, travel records, trade reports, or ancient manuscripts. That’s where the traces of history usually remain.” The Professor gave a faint smile.
“People can forge stories.” “But it’s much harder to forge traces.” The words immediately became etched in Lucien’s mind.
Traces. Not stories.
Lucien gently closed the door to the Professor’s office. The Professor’s words still echoed in his mind. “People can forge stories. But it’s much harder to forge traces.” He let out a breath before walking down the library aisle.
As he passed the manuscript room, he saw that its door was open. A female student came out carrying two rolls of old manuscripts in her arms. They nearly collided.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
One of the rolls nearly fell. Lucien instinctively caught it first. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lucien recognized the girl’s face. They had never really spoken, but they crossed paths often enough in the library.
Her name was Lyra Evermont, a linguistics student who could almost always be found in the manuscript room. Among the history students, she was known for her interest in ancient languages and manuscripts that even the professors rarely touched.
Lyra took the roll back. “You’re looking for references this early too?”
Lucien gave a faint smile. “It’s a habit.”
“Same here.”
For a moment, they nodded to each other, then continued in opposite directions.
Lucien headed toward the cartography room, while Lyra went back into the manuscript room.
At the time, Lucien had no idea that just a few minutes later, the girl he had only just met would become the first person to help him understand the mystery behind the old map.
The room was much smaller than the Restricted Archive, but it was packed with wooden cabinets containing maps from various eras.
An elderly librarian looked up when he saw Lucien. “What are you looking for this time?”
“The oldest maps still accessible to students.”
The librarian chuckled. “You history students are strange. You’re always looking for the oldest things.”
“If they’re new, I can still see them in an atlas.”
“Fair enough.”
He stood and retrieved a thick catalog.
“Go ahead and choose what you want.”
Lucien turned page after page. His eyes stopped at one section.
Early Kingdom Cartography Collection.
“I’d like to see this.”
The librarian shook his head. “That one is being restored.”
Lucien let out a slow breath. “Then what about this one?”
He pointed to another title. “That one’s been checked out by a researcher.”
And another. “That one can’t leave because it’s too fragile.”
Lucien slowly closed the catalog. He felt as though he had reached a dead end.
Just as he was about to thank the librarian and leave, the man opened the catalog again.
“Wait a moment...” His finger stopped at a shelf number. “There’s still one.”
“What is it?”
“A copy map.”
“It isn’t as complete as the original, but students use it fairly often.”
Lucien nodded quickly. “That’s fine too.”
A few minutes later, an old wooden tube was placed in front of him. Lucien opened it carefully and removed a map scroll beginning to yellow with age.
He slowly unfurled it across the reading table. His gaze swept over the entire surface at once. The map was fairly complete, showing the names of kingdoms, mountain ranges, rivers, and trade routes.
At first glance... there was nothing strange about it. But when his eyes moved to the bottom-right corner, a small inscription caught his attention. It was nearly obscured by stains from the passage of time.
Lucien leaned closer. Then he read it under his breath. “...Seventh Revision.” He repeated it once more. “Seventh revision...”
If this was the seventh revision... then where were the previous six?