THE PAPER WITCHER’S ATLAS

The Paper Witcher's Atlas

You must have sensed it—the draw to this book. You must have felt that overwhelming desire to find it. You used the full moon’s radiant glow streaming through the windows to guide you through the library’s aisles. The book looks ordinary, almost as if it’s blending into the background, forgotten. Unable to resist touching it, you wipe away the dust, your fingers tracing the gilded letters across its binding. You open the first page; a faint scent of leather and ink fills the air. With overwhelming curiosity and exhilaration, you wonder why this book draws you in so much.

I will gladly tell you. But before I get ahead of myself, let me go back and explain how it all started.

Our library was once magnificent. Phasium Library was a beacon for anyone searching for wonders, truth and mastery. It was famous, thousands would travel to Mosswick just to enter Phasium Library’s doors. Our monumental crystal dome gleamed as if it was the sun itself, allowing streaks of light to cast a warm glow throughout its expansive interior. Its looming heavy oak doors were always open, welcoming anyone to enter. Phasium library was vast yet intimate and familiar, giving a sense of peace and fulfillment to any visitor. Various ivory staircases led upwards in spirals, going up floor after floor, brimming with bookshelves. Luminous arch windows scattered throughout every room accompanied with alcoves and downy pillows. Sink-in sofas, plush settees along with soft cloud-like rugs were dispersed across every floor. Comfortable armchairs would disappear and appear sporadically to other sections.

Phasium Library also had areas that were filled with magic that the dryads gifted us. An entire floor was dedicated as a forest with birds made from colorful pages fluttering about. The trees had grown in shelves, organizing and storing the books. Netted hammocks hung throughout the trees for readers to swing gently with the warm wind. Another reading section was devoted as a beach. Its floor filled with pink sand that felt like silk as you let it slide through your fingers. Varying paper shells made of poems and small stories were scattered throughout for anyone to pick up. Books were placed in the boulder-like shelves that not only could you grab a book but could also climb them to explore. Small crabs lingered throughout, sometimes nibbling at books or fingers.

Librarians were revered for their knowledge. For amongst us were mages, mysticals and witches. But Phasium Library was most notoriously known for its Night-Ink Revel. It happened once a year when the moon was the closest to Mosswick. At midnight all lanterns, orbs or any kind of light would tinker out. The luminous crystal dome would open so everyone could see the moon and stars, not a cloud in sight. The only light filtering through were the moon beams that would brighten all of Phasium Library creating an ethereal atmosphere. Each individual visitor would feel a certain entice, an otherworldly pull to a book and follow it. The book they chose would reveal something the reader wanted or needed. Some would find the answers they were looking for a problem they carried within themselves. Some would find a story that fulfilled their heart and soul. Some visitors found knowledge that they had not known they craved. Others found satisfaction while turning the pages, finding a completeness to something they had always felt had been missing within themselves. Under the silent illumination of the moon, all of us would read throughout the night. All lost between the pages of the book that chose us. Sharing a moment of gratefulness and unity.

That was then, before everything started to unravel apart. Our King got a new unknown advisor. No one knew anything about him or where he had come from. Our King, in his frail state of mind and sickness, listened to every word the advisor said. With his carrion breath he whispered into the King's ear, hateful and foul ideas, poisoning and manipulating, until the King started to change. New laws spread throughout Mosswick. We could no longer celebrate our yearly Night-Ink Revel. Laws appeared condemning the dryads and mysticals who lived amongst us. They were incarcerated if they refused to comply or simply vanish. Trade with other provinces ceased causing famine and sickness. The advisor was the one who allotted food to us, which was scarce. Soon the magic of Mosswick dwindled, mages and witches were exiled or executed next. The few that remained were hidden by family and friends. Others were not so lucky; betrayed by the people they loved; their life being exchanged for silver coins or food rations. The advisor had our guards replaced with vorzack, which I fear are not of this world. Their elongated bodies have extra joints in their arms and legs. We do not see their face as it is covered by a cloak, but the grinding and gurgling sound they emit is enough to instill fear in everyone. Their putrid scent overpowered the crisp sweet air of Mosswick. The vorzack put a stop to anyone who rebelled against these new laws either by their sword or bare moldy hands.

Phasium Library was the last to fall. We refused to close down, refused to give them the books they demanded so they could destroy them. Phasium Library was the only place where the citizens of Mosswick could get a sense of relief from the horrid reality of what was happening outside our doors. In Phasium Library, we were studying about vorzacks and the history of the advisor. We were going to put an end to them, to save Mosswick, to save other territories and worlds. We tried to fight against them, but in the end Phasium Library fell. The vorzacks crushed down the walls with their brute force and elongated claws.

We knew what roles we needed to play, what sacrifices were needed to protect what remained of Phasium Library. They wrecked everything within Phasium Library, leaving behind shattered crystals, burnt books and death. The librarians saved me, sacrificing themselves to give me time to flee with the most sacred books. They knew the advisor would never believe that I would be chosen for such a task. He underestimated me as so many have done before him, seeing me weak-inadequate. Incapable of being useful for anything, especially in a library full of books. This did not stop the librarians when I came to them with nowhere to go, begging them to be an apprentice. Without hesitation the librarians took me in. They raised me, took care of me, showed me everything that I know. I can shift through the magic that lies between every book, every page. But the most important thing I learned within Phasium Library, was just how much I can offer the world by just being who I am. They believed me despite my shortcomings, for you see I am blind. They put their faith in me, chose me to continue this fight.

I intend to fulfill it.

If you are still reading this, this is the part of the story where you come in. You were drawn to my atlas. My atlas guides me; it has never led me off course. And right now, it’s led the way, a bridge between you and me. Books speak to me and I listen. My atlas chose you to take part in this with me for a reason, with a purpose.

You must be thinking what can a human do, but I see you, I know what you have overcome. Seen what you have gone through yet still survived, never given up hope. You think that you are not brave, but you are braver, stronger than you believe. You always had a little inkling that you were meant for something more, something with a purpose. You have the right to say no but ask yourself if this is the something you have been waiting for all your life.

Remember, every good story begins with someone who dared to believe...