Mira's heart pounded as she sprinted through the maze of towering shelves. The man's footsteps thundered behind her, growing closer with every desperate breath.
She clutched the book tightly, feeling the silver pen's glow pulse stronger in her grasp, as if Alaric himself was reaching out.
Desperation surged through her veins.
"Alaric, help me!" she whispered.
Inside the pages, the garden shimmered. Alaric's voice whispered back, distant yet urgent.
> Use the pen, Mira. Write a path. Write a door.
Hands trembling, Mira pulled the pen from the book and pressed its tip to a blank page. Words spilled out beneath her fingers, glowing blue:
Open the way—escape us both.
Suddenly, the library walls warped, pages fluttering like wings. A glowing doorway shimmered before her—a portal written into existence.
She dove through just as the man reached out, fingers brushing her jacket.
Behind her, the library snapped back into stillness.
Breathless, Mira found herself in a quiet alley outside the library. The sun was setting, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples.
The book rested safely against her chest, the pen's glow dimming to a gentle pulse.
She looked up and whispered,
"Thank you, Alaric."
Inside the book, the garden glowed brighter, and Alaric smiled, knowing their story was far from over.