A Burning Hope

Chapter 2

“A hero? —after all the heroes have come from different worlds, so it would only make sense”

“I never asked to be a hero”

“I thought you’d say something like that”

“That’s enough studying for me,” said Elisa.

She closed the book that shad been pouring over and stood up.

“Since you can’t remember, I’ll be the one to show you where your room is”

I almost said, ‘you don’t have to do that’ by reflex but I withheld myself from saying so. I’ve never been one to accept help from anyone, but in this case—a pretty girl says so, then I’ll make an exception to my rule.

“It’s along the way to my own room, so I don’t mind”

“This is The Crystal Cathedral—it’s so big you can easily get lost in its halls”

“I can tell you more about it tomorrow as we’ve already arrived at your room”
“Good luck tomorrow”

Just when she left I remembered when it was too late. Just how am I supposed to know what I am supposed to be doing at this Crystal Cathedral place anyway? I guess I’ll have to take it as it comes and hope that I figure things out myself.

The room was unremarkable, it had a study desk and a simple bookshelf in which had a few books already on it, with a plain futon set on the far side of the room. Most of my things were scattered throughout the room, and with simple amenities such as fresh running water and such.

I wanted to see what I looked like now—I assumed my face would be different. In my room I found a mirror that was placed upon the wall and to my surprise—I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I have the same face, same everything as the one who had killed me with that knife.

How is this possible?

Nothing's making sense. This whole place is not what I would expect out of being isekai'd.
I looked around and even though I was tired I still pursued on looking for any type or manner of clues to who I was.

There was nothing on the study desk, and certainly nothing hidden out of sight. I checked the bookcase and then I found a journal of some sorts. The first page of the journal spelled out his or rather now my name: Leon Brighthart. I flipped to the first page of the journal.

It talked about how it isn’t fair that I must stay here of all places, but it didn’t give a reason behind it. And for some reason all the other pages were ripped out as if someone doesn't want me to know the rest that was written on down. There’s more to it, to this, to everything— is a mystery that I need to unravel before it is too late.

I read through the books that I had taken with me at the library and none of them really piqued my interest except for the mythology about dragons. All were in languages I somehow knew and understood.

———

The sun crossed over my body showing it is time to wake up—and so I found something to wear, it was a simple dark blue tunic with a brown belt the tunic had minimal designs and was to my liking. I took what books I thought were necessary and carried them along with me.

I guess I was too tired to think straight, seeing as I had two other books which told me everything I needed to know about what I’m supposed to do in The Crystal Cathedral. The other two books that weren’t related to dragons were all about becoming a scribe and so now first things first, I need to find out where the place is.

Everyone was in a sort of business, too busy to be disturbed and so it was like dancing through a sea of chaos. Instead of asking what I presume are the serving girls, I went up and asked a stranger who looked like they knew things about this place.

“Do you happen to know where the Scribe’s Quarters are?”

“Yeah, it's right this way, all the way down and to your left”

“Thanks”

Once I opened the door to my left, there were several more doors on each side, making this matter more complicated than it needs to be. But just as I thought and asked my mind to remember it did just that and the door’s number was revealed to me.

Once I went inside to see it for myself there was an older man slumped over an elaborate study desk, each book and object in a disarray.

“You’re late. Again, didn’t I tell you to be on time, Leon?”

“I can’t help it sir”

“Oh well, it’s not the end of the world now, is it?”

He got up from out of his seat, his head was shaven, and his right eye was marked with a scar in the shape of a cross. He sighed and made his way toward me.

“Did you manage to study at all?” He asked me, you could hear the curiosity up in his voice.

“I did, but I don’t think I studied enough”

I handed over the books that I had looked over, studied and memorized each word.

“Are you sure you understand everything in each of these books?”

“I would hope so—I spent most of the night studying”

Instead of saying the truth I told him that I’d been studying last night. Lying was something I’ve always had to do, it’s not as if I do it on purpose but I’ve grown accustom to lying about the small details in life.

“The third book is written in an ancient language, and you say you can read and maybe even speak it?," his eyebrows drew up on the one side, he was hesitant to believe such a thing could be possible.

“That language is the Solarian tongue, also known as the language of the dragons”

“This book will not get you in trouble, but understanding it and telling someone you can read it can put you in a world of danger”

“Rest assured I will not tell no one, as I myself am interested in what you found out” He rested his hand upon my shoulder.

“Unless you give me good reason to tell someone else—if it ever happens that you cannot be trusted then I won’t hesitate to tell someone else”

“What if I told you something that is even harder to believe, what if I told you I’m not the Leon you once knew—"