Confusion

Visana cracked her book open, dusted it lightly and got to reading. The candle flame flickered lightly, casting an unsteady glow on the thing. The grimoire lay there in her hands, and her eyes seemed to flick over words. The book itself was very interesting to her. It seemed to have a mind of its own, and often she had to wrestle with it mentally. Visana shifted quietly, hoping that her candle and soft movements wouldn’t wake her roommate, Roseli up.

She knew the moment that she’d brought the book back that Roseli would probably not approve of her new find. After all, it wasn’t like anything either of them had seen before, so why let her be worried with the burning and headaches? She’d plumb the depths of the book first, and then she’d show Roseli, if it contained anything of interest, anyway.

So that’s how it is, hmm?

So that’s how it is, Visana thought silently. That’s how it is.

She strained her eyes at the text, trying to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that something was wrong, somehow. It was just a spell book, so why was anything wrong? Never mind the glowing green front cover that she’d had trouble hiding from Roseli, and the constantly moving words. Visana snorted quietly. That excuse was pathetic, even to her.

The young mage shook her head, before pursuing the text once more...



Visana rubbed her eyes and yawned sleepily. Roseli gave her an odd look.

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“You could say that.” Visana had stayed up all night reading, and she’d only managed to understand a sentence, maybe less. She also had a headache that was killing her, but she tried to not show it.

“Just a bit tired is all. Worried about the exams coming up soon.” Visana subtly tried to shift the topic, and it worked. As Roseli babbled on about exams and study, Visana responded, but her mind was elsewhere. The book was unique, as far as she could tell. It was new, and yet old at the same time.

Visana, dear reader, was probably as confused as you are now.

The book’s pages were old, weathered and generally disfigured. It was obviously penned long ago. But from what Visana could see of the thing, the ink was new, fresh, even. It seemed not a day old and yet very old at the same time. The paper and the ink were from different times, it seemed to her, and there was something else about the book, something…wrong.

But again, Visana ignored that bit of her mind. It was irrational fear, or something.

“Viz? Are you listening?” Roseli glanced at her with concern evident in her eyes.

“Oh…yes. Sorry, kind of spaced out there. You were saying?”

“I was saying that you’ve been walking into a wall the past five minutes.”

Ah. So that explained the headache that was now engulfing the front half of her head. Visana took some time to absorb this information. “Ow.”

Roseli laughed. “Bit of a slow reaction there, Viz.”

Visana glared at her friend. “I’m just…tired and lost in thought. It’s just that I’ve got this nagging feeling that something bad is going to happen soon and…” Visana trailed off.

What she said was true in a way, only that something bad happening related to her and about…her. Her feeling didn’t really seem to include anyone else, though maybe anyone close to her when whatever bad thing was going to happen…happened, would be affected.

Because, believe you me, dear reader, things happen in stories. Because all stories need complications, and throwing the main character, in this case poor little Visana, into problems moves the plot along.

“A bad feeling, eh?” Roseli said. “This doesn’t have anything to do with those horror books you’ve been reading, have they?”

Visana blinked. “That was months ago! Besides, I swear that fly looked larger when it was in the dark…”

Roseli grinned. “Sure, sure. Just don’t wake up screaming when I poke you to wake you up next time, okay?”

Visana grumbled under her breath. “Sure thing, Roseli. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”



The candle flickered gently as the young mage pursued her book. Confusion was etched on her face, but the candle flickered.

The candle flickered.