The Forbidden Staircase

I stared at the obsidian key on the table, as if it were a coiled viper, ready to strike.

Elinor’s words had been like a torrent unleashed upon a placid lake, their ripples still spreading through my heart.

“The Crevice of Nothingness,” “The Cradle of Chaos,” “The Courage to Seek Oneself”…

Each phrase struck precisely at the deepest fears within my soul.

She seemed to have seen right through me, recognizing that I was not “Lilliana” herself, but rather some foreign entity residing within this shell.

The key she offered was less a guide and more a blatant manipulation.

She knew I had no other choice.

The uncontrollable power I had unleashed on the training grounds had already pushed me to the edge of an abyss.

If I failed to understand the true nature of this power, my next outburst could lead to something far more irreversible.

I reached out, and the moment my fingertips brushed against the key, a chilling sensation spread rapidly across my skin.

It was not the coldness of metal, but rather…

A peculiar sensation, as if I had touched solidified, eternal night.

I clasped the key firmly in my palm.

I had made my choice.

****

Rising to my feet, I did not spare another glance for Elinor behind the service desk. Instead, I walked directly towards the spiral staircase that ascended into the depths of the library.

The stairs were crafted from ancient stone, winding upwards as if reaching for an endless height.

While the entrance between the first and second floors was unobstructed, the stairway leading to the third floor was blocked by a heavy, wrought-iron gate.

A large, equally antique lock hung from the gate.

Taking a deep breath, I inserted the obsidian key into the keyhole.

There was no sound of metal grating against metal.

The key fit the lock perfectly, turning silently, as if they had always been one.

“Click.”

With a soft sound, the large lock sprang open.

I pushed open the heavy gate and ascended the steps leading further upward.

The light on the third floor was noticeably dimmer than below.

The bookshelves, too, had transformed, now crafted from dark agarwood. The air hung thick with an even older, heavier scent of aged paper, subtly mingled with a faint, elusive aroma reminiscent of ancient herbs.

Here, only highly specialized tomes were kept. Most covers were made of leather, emblazoned with titles like “Analysis of High Draconic Magic Structures” and “Research on Soul Mediums in Potionology” in embossed, ancient script.

I did not linger, continuing my ascent.

The staircase to the top floor was hidden in an inconspicuous corner, significantly narrower than the lower flights, allowing passage for only one person at a time.

There were no windows in the walls, only magic stones embedded at intervals, casting a faint blue glow that barely illuminated the path ahead.

The higher I climbed, the colder and more stagnant the air became.

Finally, I arrived before a grand door, carved from a single slab of ebony.

The door bore no adornment, only a keyhole identical in shape to the key in my hand.

This was the entrance to the restricted section on the top floor.

My heart pounded fiercely within my chest.

Behind that door, perhaps all the secrets of my existence lay hidden…

Or perhaps, an even greater danger—an abyss capable of consuming me entirely.

I hesitated for a moment, but ultimately, I inserted the key.

The door silently swung inward.

The sight beyond the door was completely different from what I had imagined.

There were no dusty, towering stacks of ancient tomes, nor was there any eerie, terrifying atmosphere.

Instead, it resembled a private, elegant study.

The space was circular, with a dome formed from a single, massive transparent crystal imbued with magic, through which the azure sky and drifting clouds outside were visible.

The walls had been transformed into circular, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, neatly arranged with scrolls and stone tablets that appeared incredibly ancient, some even lacking covers.

In the center of the room stood a grand circular desk, upon which lay scattered parchment manuscripts, quill pens, and several ancient magical artifacts whose purposes were unclear.

Beside the desk, a figure stood with their back to me, gazing silently out of the massive floor-to-ceiling window at the sky.

It was…

Someone I had absolutely never expected to see here.

Sharp silver short hair, and a crisp white uniform, emblematic of the Disciplinary Committee.

Beatrix Eisen.

A gasp involuntarily escaped my lips.

What was she doing here?!

“Thump!”

My footsteps entering the restricted section seemed to startle her.

She whirled around, her sharp golden eyes instantly narrowing upon seeing me, filled with shock and…

A hint of panic, as if a secret had been exposed.

“Lilliana von Eckhart?!”

She cried out, her voice breaking.

“How did you get here?! That key…”

Her gaze fell upon the obsidian key still clutched in my hand on the doorknob, her shock transforming into deep confusion and wariness.

“And why are *you* here?”

I quickly regained my composure and retorted.

Elinor had explicitly stated that this place was “not open to anyone.”

Beatrix’s presence was entirely beyond my expectations.

“I…”

Beatrix’s lips moved, as if searching for a suitable excuse. However, her honest nature, unsuited for deception, ultimately led her to simply furrow her brow tightly.

“I am here on Lady Elinor’s orders, organizing documents.”

Elinor’s orders?

A myriad of thoughts flashed through my mind.

Could it be that Beatrix, this fiercely righteous knight, shared some unknown connection with the enigmatic librarian?

“Organizing documents?”

I slowly stepped further into the room, my gaze sweeping over the large desk. A spread-out parchment manuscript immediately caught my attention.

It was covered in ancient script, depicting diagrams I could not decipher. Yet, in the center of one diagram, I spotted a familiar word.

—[Chaos].

Beside that word, there was a line of annotation in the common tongue, written in a bold and powerful hand.

[…The essence of this power is not darkness, but an older void. Its manifestation is the devouring and annihilation of established laws. Its wielder is called a Child of Chaos, a point of correction for the world, and also a point of destruction…]

The handwriting of this annotation still looked remarkably fresh.

I abruptly lifted my head, my eyes locking onto Beatrix.

On her face, usually as stern as an ice sculpture, an expression of undisguised, almost panicked, discomposure appeared for the first time.

“Ugh!”

She instinctively reached out to cover the manuscript, but it was already too late.

And so, in the eerie silence of the restricted section’s top floor, we stood in a wordless standoff.

It turned out that, without my knowledge…

Someone had already been investigating me.

And not just anyone, but this righteous knight—who was supposed to be my sworn rival.