Ep 4 : “The Archives Whisper Back”

The journal’s weight lingered in Asher’s hands, but it was nothing compared to the growing heaviness in his chest. His fingers brushed the inscription once more—For A. You always come back to me.

He didn’t even realize he’d stopped breathing until Ethan spoke again.

“Come with me,” Ethan said softly, “there’s something else you should see.”

Asher didn’t ask where they were going. He just followed.

The back of the library felt colder than the rest of the building, like the walls themselves were preserving the memories within. They passed through narrow corridors stacked with boxes and old book carts, each turn leading them deeper into a part of the building Asher had never seen—despite visiting this place for years.

Finally, they stopped in front of a matte-black door with a small keypad beside it. It looked strangely out of place in the otherwise antique building.

“Archives,” Ethan murmured, punching in a code. “Restricted access.”

The door hissed open. Asher stepped into the room with hesitation, immediately greeted by the scent of paper—aged, dry, and brittle. Unlike the rest of the library, this space was pristine. Temperature-controlled. No windows, no ambient noise. Just shelves of sealed boxes and a long metal table in the center under a dim spotlight.

Ethan walked ahead, opening a drawer in a nearby cabinet. From within, he withdrew a single manila folder, placing it on the table with the reverence of someone handling a sacred relic.

“This is why I knew it was you,” he said. “Read this.”

Asher sat down, flipping the folder open. Inside were copies of handwritten letters. The ink was faded, but the handwriting was elegant, curling like ivy across the page. He skimmed the first few lines and froze.

> “To A.,

I saw you again. Your eyes haven’t changed, not in all these lives. You don’t know me yet, but your soul remembers. It always does. I’ll find you again. I always do.”

Asher’s lips parted, but no words came. He flipped to the next page.

> “The last time, it ended in fire. Before that, the sea. We’ve been kings and servants, warriors and poets. But the ache is always the same—the ache of finding you too late. This time, I want to get it right.”

Every letter was signed the same way.

– E

His fingers trembled slightly. “These are from you?”

“From someone like me,” Ethan replied quietly. “Or maybe... they’ve always been mine.”

“This can’t be real,” Asher muttered. “It feels like a fantasy. Like something out of one of my books.”

“Maybe reality is just a story we’ve heard too many times,” Ethan said. “And now, it’s rewriting itself.”

Asher looked up at him. “Why me?”

Ethan met his gaze, his eyes darker than before, shadows swimming in the irises. “Because you’ve always been the one to find the journal. And I’ve always been the one trying to make you remember.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Asher’s heart was thudding in his chest like a warning and a promise at the same time. Something ancient stirred inside him—like waking from a long dream he never knew he’d fallen into.

“So,” Asher said quietly, “what happens now?”

Ethan took a slow breath, stepping closer, his voice barely audible.

“Now we find out if we can finally break the cycle.”

......................

( To be continued)

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