This is our hidden secret.

But it’s not the worst of it. A third Sigil is embedded on the back of our necks. We call it the Vow. A special magic that won’t allow us to speak of the Librarians' true duty to anyone else. A pain and burden we must carry alone.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts as the pain reaches its highest, which also means it's almost over. A thought I always cling to.

I wince as I feel the last piece of magic enter my frame and feel the burning ebb from my body.

A feeling of being too full overwhelms me all at once. The newly added Records always send waves of nausea through me.

Looks like I won’t be eating that leftover lasagne Isaac kept for me today.

I take a deep breath in and try to relieve myself of nausea rolling like waves through me. It doesn’t become any easier. You just learn to accept it more.

I make my way toward the door when a sharp pain pierces through my chest and down my arms, static-like energy sparking from my fingertips. I crouch downward to dissipate the pain. I breathe slowly, calming my racing heart as the static gradually disappears.

Well, that's new.

I’ve heard of Librarians suffering the after-effects of holding the Records for too long, but at twenty-seven, I was the youngest to succeed in the Librarian position. Those suffering from after-effects had been holding the Records for at least a few decades and usually nearing their time to pass on to their successor.

I hadn’t been a Librarian for more than five years. Too young and new to have any of those problems.

That also is the reason why I was looked down upon by the other four Librarians.

To them, I was too young, too weak of magic, of unknown origins, and, my favorite…probably part human. Always dissatisfied gazes and gripes about why I was chosen.

They thought very little of my old Library and me.

Fortunately, they couldn’t interfere in another Librarian's choice of successor. It was their rite to choose who would succeed them. And Isaiah chose me.

I drag myself up and shake my arms out, ridding myself of the tingling sensation still haunting my fingertips.

I make my way to the door and make note to look into any after-effects later.

CHAPTER THREE

I make my way up the old staircase and head toward the attic floor. The highest floor in the Library, with just two rooms, one for the Autarium and one for my bedroom, I’ve always felt the most comfortable up here.

The old rooms carry on the wooden features and design of the Library.

My own room is everything a book-lover could dream of. Dark rich wooden bookshelves encompass the walls on both sides of the room from ceiling to floor, and a small rosewood desk sits near my window, holding my latest series addiction. With the most beautiful view of the city for me to read by.