A library vanishes without a trace. No rubble, no signs of demolition—just an empty lot where it once stood. But the real mystery? Most people don’t even remember it ever being there.
When Robin turns to Haley for help, they uncover a reality-warping book, a hidden entrance, and a world straight out of a story—complete with enchanted forests, cryptic trials, and a dragon who wants a good read.
Can they solve the mystery before the library is erased forever?
Where the Words Went Missing is Episode 5 of The Sounds series.
Robin Bee burst through the doors of the parkour gym, her boots striking the polished concrete with sharp, urgent footsteps. The air pulsed with upbeat music, the rhythmic squeak of sneakers on mats, and the steady thud of bodies vaulting over obstacles. Neon murals stretched across the walls, their bold strokes capturing the gym’s energy, while the sleek, swirling logo of Dynamic Flow dominated like a challenge in motion. A group of gym-goers paused mid-stretch, their movements slowing as they turned toward Robin, drawn by the sheer force of her arrival.
“Haley!” Robin called, her golden eyes darting through the maze of bars, walls, and platforms.
Perched atop a vault box, Haley leaned forward, coaching a newcomer through a tricky cat leap. Her rainbow-dyed hair shimmered under the gym’s bright lights, her voice steady, encouraging. “You’ve got this! Just push off with your legs and—“
“Haley!” Robin’s voice cut through the gym’s noise, edged with urgency and disbelief.
Haley turned, locking eyes with Robin. She excused herself with the student before hopping down from the vault box, her sneakers hitting the floor with a soft, controlled thud. Concern flickered across her face as she jogged over, wiping her hands on her purple leggings.
“Bee? What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Robin’s fingers found Haley’s, squeezing tight. Haley didn’t pull away. She never did.
“Not a ghost,” Robin murmured. “Worse. The library—my favorite library—is gone.”
Haley rubbed her thumb gently over the back of Robin’s hand. “Gone? What do you mean, gone? Like… closed for renovations?”
“No!” Robin shook her head, frustration creeping into her voice. “I mean it’s gone gone. The entire building. I got off work, stopped by to pick up a book, and—nothing. Just an empty lot. Like it was never there at all.”
Haley’s lips parted, shock flickering across her features before her expression shifted, sharpening into focus. Without hesitation, she slipped her hand from Robin’s, grabbed her rainbow water bottle and hoodie from a nearby bench, and slung them over her shoulder.
“Alright. Let’s check this out.”
Robin’s shoulders eased slightly, the weight of her worry lessened by Haley’s immediate support. “Thank you,” she said, her voice softer now.
Haley turned to her, smirking just a little. “You know I can’t resist a good mystery. And if this involves your favorite library, well… that makes it personal.” She winked. “National emergency level.”
Robin huffed a laugh, some of the weight lifting off her chest.
“Just let me clear this with Boss Taurus, and we’ll head out,” Haley said.
Robin arched an eyebrow. “Boss Taurus?”
“Oh, yeah,” Haley said. “You haven’t met him yet. He’s the gym manager. Big, red minotaur. Looks like he could crush a boulder, but he’d probably apologize for the mess afterward. Total sweetheart. Anyway, hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
She strode toward the Dynamic Flow office, its wide sliding door slightly ajar. Inside, Taurus loomed over his desk, surrounded by a glow of holographic scheduling windows. His massive crimson frame contrasted sharply against the pastel green walls, his onyx horns polished to a mirror-like sheen, curving upward like twin blades. Despite his imposing size, his expression was one of calm focus as he sifted through client workout routines with deliberate precision.
As Haley stepped in, his eyes flicked toward a notification hovering in the corner of his screen. He exhaled through his nose and dismissed the status update with a quick swipe.
“Finally,” he muttered. His gaze lingered on an empty spot on his shelf for a second before he turned back to Haley as she knocked on the door.
“Ah, Haley!” His deep, resonant voice rumbled, but warmth in his tone. “Everything alright? You’re not injured, are you?”
Taurus gestured to a chair across from his desk, his movements careful and unhurried.
Haley shook her head with a smile. “No, I’m fine. But I was wondering if I could leave early today. Something’s come up—kind of an emergency with Robin.”
Taurus leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “An emergency?” His brow furrowed briefly, but then his dark eyes softened. “Is it serious? Do you need help?”
Haley hesitated, debating how much to say. “Well, it’s about the Aequus Central Library—“
Taurus blinked, tilting his head slightly. “The what?”
Haley paused. “You know, the library. The big one on Crescent Street? You’ve taught free movement workshops there a few times.”
Taurus’s brow knitted further, his tail flicking behind him. “Haley, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a library on Crescent Street. Pretty sure there’s nothing but an empty lot there.”
A flicker of unease crawled up Haley’s spine. “Are you sure? You were there just a few months ago—you did those weekend parkour basics classes for beginners. You even said it was one of the best turnouts you’d had.”
Taurus frowned, tapping his fingers against the desk. “I mean… that sounds like something I’d do, but I swear, I don’t remember any library.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe you’re thinking of a different gym event?”
Haley forced a small laugh, trying not to let her unease show. “Yeah… maybe.”
Taurus studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “Either way, if you’ve got something important to take care of, go for it. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Haley nodded, offering him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Boss Taurus. You’re the best.”
He waved her off with a gentle laugh. “Go on, now. Don’t keep your girlfriend waiting.”
As Haley turned to leave, she cast one last glance at the empty space on his back shelf, waiting for another award. She didn’t press him further about the library, but as she stepped out of the office, she couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling in her gut.
Taurus wasn’t the type to forget anything.
As she rejoined Robin, she gave her a thumbs-up. “All set. Let’s go.”
“Yeah, well, people don’t always fit the roles they’re given,” Haley said with a smirk. She turned to Robin, her voice dropping just a little. “Kind of like you. Always acting like you don’t need saving, but we both know I’d rescue you anytime.”
Robin rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” Haley shot back, grinning.
Haley waved goodbye to her coworkers as they left the gym together. Outside, the late afternoon sun stretched shadows across the bustling city streets. Robin set a brisk pace, her urgency returning as she filled Haley in on what little she’d learned about the missing library.
“When I got there, the staff said they’d locked up as usual last night,” Robin began, her voice tight and frustrated. “But this morning, the building was just gone. No rubble, no signs of demolition. It’s like it was never there.”
Haley frowned, absorbing the information. “And no alarms? No one saw or heard anything strange?”
Robin shook her head. “Nothing. It’s like it vanished into thin air.” She hesitated, then added, “I happened to run into Rosemary when I got there. You remember her, right? She works at the library.”
Haley nodded. “Tall, white fur, book skirt? Hard to forget someone with style like that.”
Robin huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, that’s her. She was checking out the scene, too. She said her boss told everyone not to come in today, but she was curious about what was happening and found the lot taped off, with a security guard posted out front.”
Haley’s brows lifted. “So her boss knew something was wrong before anyone else did?”
“Looks that way,” Robin said grimly. “Rosemary’s trying to get answers. I told her we’d meet up—she’s waiting for us now.”
Haley slipped on her hoodie, her expression sharpening. “Then let’s not keep her waiting.”
As they turned the corner, the empty lot came into view. Yellow caution tape fluttered in the breeze, cordoning off the area where the Aequus Central Library once stood. A small group of onlookers lingered near the perimeter, murmuring to each other in hushed confusion–no widespread panic, just quiet, puzzled uncertainty.
Amid the small crowd of onlookers, a tall, slender nyxis waved them over. Rosemary’s white fur gleamed in the sunlight, her black top and custom-made skirt featuring the covers of her favorite books swaying gently as she greeted them.
“Robin! Haley!” Rosemary said with a wave. While her voice was warm, her stiff tail betrayed her worry. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad you’re here.”
Haley offered a reassuring smile. “We wouldn’t miss it. Robin told me what was going on. Any updates?”
Rosemary shook her head, her ears flicking back slightly. “No, it’s still the same. Just… nothing. It’s so eerie.” She glanced toward the lot. “I’ve worked there for years, and now it’s like it never existed.”
Haley looked around at the unfazed bystanders, lowering her voice. “Okay, but… why isn’t this bigger news? An entire building vanished. Shouldn’t there be reporters? The city investigating?”
Rosemary sighed, glancing at the crowd. “It’s strange. I talked to some people about the library, and they kind of shrugged it off, and others think it was never really here at all. Like… their memories are fuzzy.”
Robin frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Actually,” Haley said, “when I mentioned the library to my boss, he didn’t remember it either, and I know he’s taught classes here.”
Rosemary nodded. “Exactly. I talked to one of the patrons I recognized about the library disappearing, and she just blinked at me and said, ‘Oh, I must be remembering wrong. It must’ve closed months ago.’”
Robin’s expression darkened. “That’s not normal.”
Haley placed a hand on Rosemary’s arm. “Don’t worry, Rosemary. We’re going to figure this out. You’ve got us on the case.”
Rosemary tilted her head. “On the case?”
Robin quickly explained. “Yeah, Haley has taken to solving mysteries lately.”
“Like Xyra Thorne!” Rosemary said as if she were witnessing her favorite character come to life.
“Who?” Haley asked.
“Xrya is a fictional detective from a book series by Amalisa Ving,” Robin explained.
Haley nodded. “I see. Okay, let’s start with yesterday. Did you notice any strange visitors, odd noises, anything at all?”
The librarian hesitated, her eyes looking up as she thought back. “I can’t think of anything out of the ordinary.”
Haley looked over toward the guard. “Why do you have private security? Shouldn’t there be a protector?”
Rosemary scratched her head. “Oh. We were supposed to host a book premiere today, so maybe he got reassigned.”
“Excuse me for a moment,” Haley said as she stepped away, pulling out her music player. She raised the device to her face and asked, “What’s going on here?”
The song titled “Second Skin” appeared.
Haley turned back to Rosemary. “Does Second Skin mean anything to you?”
“Oh! Yes! They’re a projection mapper company the library has used to make the outside of our building look different for some of our events. We were going to make the library look like a mushroom forest today for that book release… Wait, you don’t think the library was made to look invisible?”
Robin shrugged. “That would be crazy. But why?”
“Yeah, why?” Rosemary repeated. “Why would my boss message all of us not to come in today?”
“You didn’t ask why?” Robin said.
“I did!” Rosemary said. “But my networker says my message wasn’t received.”
Haley didn’t comment. She focused intently on the plot of land, staring at the spot where the library should have been, as if the emptiness were an optical illusion she needed to see through until she discovered the answer.
“The dirt!” Haley shouted, startling Robin and Rosemary. “Look at the dirt. It’s a repeating pattern.”
Rosemary’s jaw dropped. “My word. You’re right.”
“Should we be able to walk up to the library and open the door like normal?” Robin asked.
“I tried to step on the empty plot earlier, but the guard wouldn’t let me,” Rosemary said.
Haley pulled up her music player, keeping the device out of Rosemary’s view. “How do we get inside the library?” She pressed shuffle, and the song titled “Obstacle 1” appeared. She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Yes, this is our first obstacle.”
Haley sighed and shifted back to the group. “Rosemary, does Obstacle 1 mean anything to do you?”
Rosemary chuckled. “Oh, you know about Obstacle 1?”
“I… don’t,” Haley said. “Care to explain?”
“Obstacle 1 is what we call our speakeasy entrance to the library. It’s an underground connection between The Study Wine Bar. People could check out books to read at the bar, and we would bring them to them. You know, they should be open by now.”
“Let’s see if we can’t get inside that way,” Haley said.
Rosemary led the pair across the street to The Study Wine Bar, a cozy spot nestled along a strip of freestanding small businesses. The bar’s exterior was unassuming, with a weathered wooden sign depicting an open book and a glass of wine etched above the entrance. Inside, the space was a bibliophile’s dream, with walls lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves. Each shelf was illuminated by soft, golden light, and a ladder on wheels glided along the stacks. Patrons lounged in plush armchairs or perched on stools at tables carved to resemble oversized books. Small drones zipped about, delivering drinks and snacks to customers.
The air smelled of aged paper, red wine, and a hint of cinnamon. A chalkboard menu hung above the bar, listing drinks like “Plot Twist Pinot” and “Character Arc Cabernet.” A mechanical owl perched on the counter, hooting softly as it swiveled its head to observe the patrons.
Rosemary guided them toward a curtained alcove at the back of the bar. Pulling the velvet curtain aside, she revealed a small, dimly lit room with old, weathered books that were more decorative than something worth reading. A single wooden sign hung on the far wall with the text “Obstacle” 1 in ornate script.
Rosemary approached the wall beneath the sign and glanced back at them. “This is how we would get between the library and the bar. This was the bar owner’s idea.”
Rosemary knocked on the wall three times, the sound resonating in the small room. Then, with a quiet but firm voice, she said, “Sway.”
The wall shuddered before a hidden door creaked open, revealing a narrow hallway. The faint smell of musty stone wafted up as Rosemary stepped through, gesturing for Haley and Robin to follow.
“Okay, this is nebular,” Haley said, descending down the ramp as the lights along the walls automatically turned on.
“I know, right?” Rosemary said with a giggle as she led the way. “I feel like an outlaw where books are forbidden every time.”
Haley rubbed her arms for warmth as they walked, the air growing cooler the deeper they went. Without a word, Robin shifted closer, their arms brushing lightly as they moved. The tunnel carried the scent of aged concrete, tinged with the lingering acidity of wine from the bar above. But as they progressed, those velvety notes faded, replaced by a whisper of old paper and a faint trace of coffee—like the library was just beyond, waiting for them.
“Moment of truth,” Rosemary murmured as they reached the other end, her pointer finger pressing the green button. With a soft hiss, the door slid open, revealing the library’s staff area—carts with books waiting to be shelved, crafts in containers from the latest community learning event, and extra supplies for the maker space organized along a wall.
Robin’s eyes darted around. “So the library isn’t missing at all,” she said, stepping past a pulled-out chair from a table.
Haley ran her fingers over a table. “Then someone must’ve used the Second Skin device to cloak the library. But why?”
Without waiting for an answer, Rosemary led them forward. “Let’s see if anyone’s here.”
She pressed open another door at the far end of the staff room. Instead of the orderly rows of books, cozy reading nooks, and quiet study rooms, the lobby exploded into color and whimsy. The once-familiar threshold had transformed into a cartoon forest with towering, grinning trees swirling with crimson bark. Glowing mushrooms pulsed gently along the walls, their caps bobbing as if giggling at an inside joke. Vines twinkled like fairy lights, weaving through the ceiling beams, and a soft, tinkling melody filled the air—like the library itself was humming with amusement.
Haley stepped inside, her breath catching. “This… this is beyond anything I’ve seen.”
Rosemary’s ears flattened as she surveyed the room. “No way anyone could have done this much decorating since last night.”
“Yeah, this feels like we stepped into a storybook,” Haley said.
Robin studied the strange landscape until her gaze landed on a peculiar contraption in a clearing ahead—a cage suspended in the air. The twisting, vine-like bars pulsed with an uneven rhythm, like a heart out of sync, as the glow flickered between cold blue and dull red. Inside, two figures sat in frustration.
“Look!” Robin pointed.
A familiar voice to Rosemary crackled from within. “Rosemary!”
“We’re saved!” another voice added, equally relieved.
Rosemary gasped, her whiskers twitching. “Tiffany! Are you alright?”
As they drew closer, the trapped figures took shape. Tiffany Ridings, the library director, stood composed despite her predicament, her expression calm but alert. Strands of dark hair framed her face, intertwined with dormant serpents that gleamed faintly under the enchanted cage’s glow. Her starlit eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered with quiet determination, betraying no panic—only a measured assessment of her situation.
“We’re fine,” Tiffany said, her voice steady.
“How do we get you down?” Rosemary asked, scanning the shimmering cage.
Beside Tiffany, at half her height, James McKarth fidgeted, his four tentacle arms curling against his red skin. He pointed dramatically at the large, gray stone heart embedded in the ground a few feet away. The rock pulsed erratically, its rhythm mismatched with the cage.
“You see that?” James said, his voice tight with urgency. “That’s the key. You have to sync the heartbeat—to stabilize it.”
Rosemary tilted her head, studying the uneven pulses. “And how exactly do we do that?”
James grinned, his tentacle arms curling with excitement. “Oh, this is the fun part. You have to say something kind about each other. But not just anything—something real. Something that actually matters.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Haley said with a smirk. “Good thing we’re all friends.”
The three of them placed their hands on the stone heart, its erratic pulse fluttering beneath their fingertips.
Haley took a steady breath. “Alright. I’ll start.” She turned to Robin, her expression softening. “Robin, you’re always looking out for people, making sure they’re okay—even when they don’t realize they need it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The stone’s glow flickered. Its wild rhythm shifted, growing steadier.
Robin ducked her head, a faint blush coloring her blue skin. “Rosemary, you never give up on people. No matter what. Even when most would walk away, you stay. And… that’s something I really admire about you.”
The heartbeat evened out further, its glow warming beneath their hands.
Rosemary grinned, pressing her palm firmly against the stone. “Robin, despite your shyness, you’d throw yourself into danger without hesitation for the people you care about. That’s real courage.”
As the words settled, the heartbeat aligned—strong, steady, unwavering. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. The metal vines unraveled, retreating like wilting branches, and the cage eased to the ground.
Tiffany and James stumbled free, Tiffany brushing off her sleeves while James stretched his tentacles with visible relief.
“Well,” Tiffany said, smirking as she stepped forward. “That was unexpectedly wholesome.”
James theatrically stretched his tentacles, then reached out and clasped Haley’s hand with one of his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he said, shaking her hand. “I usually prefer my protagonists to do the getting-captured part.”
Tiffany smoothed out her red cardigan, her piercing gaze shifting between Rosemary and the others. “How did you even get inside, Rosemary? I told you not to come here.”
“Through the speakeasy entrance,” Rosemary answered like she had done nothing wrong. “I was worried! What in the stars happened here?”
James let out a weary sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… before the library opened, Tiffany let me in early to set up for my book launch.” His lips curled into a sheepish grin. “And then, as if by magic—or possibly my own terrible luck—the story decided to leap off the page.”
Robin crossed her arms, skepticism written across her face. “And how exactly did your book do this?”
James lifted his hands in surrender. “No idea. This shouldn’t be possible. I was just showing Tiffany my personal copy when—bam!—next thing we know, we’re in my story.”
Tiffany’s expression hardened as she thought back. “What about that paper you were telling me about?”
Haley leaned in, intrigued. “What paper?”
James hesitated, his tentacles curling slightly. “Oh—that can’t be it. I mean… I did print a special edition on some fancy paper I got from an artist. You know, for a limited run, high-end feel.” He forced a laugh, but it did little to dispel the unease creeping into the room. “But paper shouldn’t have that kind of power.”
Silence stretched between them, the weight of the possibility settling in.
Rosemary cleared her throat. “So, why is the library invisible?”
“Invisible?” Tiffany repeated with a frustrated sigh. “I rented a Second Skin projection mapper to make the library look like a mushroom forest for the book release. But when the story came to life, I panicked and sent a command to make the library look closed instead. The AI must’ve misinterpreted my request and turned it invisible.” Tiffany shrugged. “At least that works too.”
“But, uh…” Robin said, pausing to find the right words. “There’s something else you should know.”
Tiffany’s snakes, previously shifting in idle motion, froze mid-air. A few flicked their tongues, tasting the tension in the room. “What?”
Rosemary hesitated before answering. “People outside are… forgetting the library ever existed.”
One of Tiffany’s snakes reared back, coiling tightly. “What do you mean forgetting?”
Haley folded her arms. “I mean that even people who should know the library—like my boss, who’s literally taught classes here—act like it was never here. Some people remember, but most don’t.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened in horror. “No. That’s… that’s not possible.”
“It’s happening,” Robin said grimly. “People think the lot was always empty.”
Tiffany turned to James, her expression sharp. “Then it has to be your book. The magic isn’t just transforming the inside—it’s tied to the library itself.” Her snakes tightened, mirroring her internal stress. “And when I cloaked the building with Second Skin, that must have made people forget too.”
James rubbed his chin with one of his tentacle arms. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why some people remember.”
Rosemary’s tail flicked as she thought. “It seems like it only affects people who don’t have a strong connection to the library. The ones who spent a lot of time here—like me, Robin, and Tiffany—still remember. It’s like the magic couldn’t erase everyone’s memories, only those who weren’t as deeply tied to the place.”
Robin’s frown deepened. “So if we hadn’t come here as often, we might’ve forgotten, too?”
Haley crossed her arms. “That still doesn’t explain me. I never come to this library. Why do I remember it?”
James snapped his fingers. “Wait! Maybe it’s not about this library. Maybe the story sees you as one of its protagonists.”
Haley blinked. “Come again?”
James grinned, pointing at her. “In my book, one of the main characters has rainbow-colored hair. Just like yours. The magic might be treating you as part of the story, so it’s keeping you aware of the library instead of making you forget.”
Robin narrowed her eyes. “So you’re saying the reason Haley remembers is because the book thinks she’s supposed to be in the plot?”
James shrugged. “I mean, it makes way more sense than some random exception. Stories don’t just erase their own main characters.”
Haley sighed, rubbing her temples. “Great. So I’m a knockoff protagonist now.”
Tiffany exhaled sharply, her gaze hardening. “We have to fix this fast. Suppose the book’s magic is rewriting reality. In that case, we have no idea how far it will go—it’s already blocked any networker service.”
“Any idea how to fix this?” Robin asked.
Tiffany’s lips pressed into a thin line, her starlit eyes shadowed with concern as she admitted, “We’ve been trying to figure that out.”
With a half-smile, James gestured toward the lingering remnants of the trap. “That is until the story decided to lock us up in this contraption.”
Haley stepped away from the group to consult her music player. “How do we fix the library?” she asked, her device flashing the song “Heavy Is The Crown.”
Haley’s return caused them to meet her face. “I know this will sound odd, but does your story involve a crown?”
“Yes,” James said, his tentacles curling slightly as he leaned forward. “In my book, one of the kids finds a magical crown that transforms their world.”
“Where do they find this crown?” Haley pressed.
James hesitated momentarily before answering, “In a dragon’s cave.”
“Of course,” Robin sighed. “Can’t be easy.”
James chuckled, a sound both raspy and mischievous. “Yeah, can’t have a hero’s journey be a walk in the park.”
“Since this is your world, lead the way to the cave,” Haley said.
Together, the five ventured deeper along a winding path through the enchanted forest. The vibrant hues shifted subtly around them as if the world was reconfiguring itself in response to their presence. Despite the absence of wind, the colossal trees swayed gently, their bark curling into mesmerizing spirals. Mushrooms lining the trail pulsed rhythmically to an unheard melody.
Haley couldn’t shake the eerie sensation that the landscape wasn’t just reacting to them—but anticipating their next steps. It was as if the forest already knew where they were going, adjusting itself accordingly, guiding them forward like a hand turning the pages of a book. The way the colors deepened just ahead of them, and the path curved before they reached it felt less like exploration and more like an inevitability.
Haley slid back from the group to consult her music player in private.
“Any advice for getting through this?” Haley whispered.
The music player returned with the song “Dare to Be Stupid.” Haley returned the player, interrupting the advice to be brave.
Robin sighed, watching the path ahead twist in a way that defied logic. “I don’t like how the world moves before we do.”
James chuckled, folding his four tentacle arms. “Yeah… I might have written it that way.”
Haley shot him a sharp look. “Wait. You wrote it that way? What happens next?”
Before James could answer, the ground trembled beneath them. The towering trees recoiled like stage curtains, their luminous branches curling away to reveal a massive armored figure blocking the path. The knight’s patchwork form was an impossible fusion of gold and silver, each plate gleaming under the shifting hues of the enchanted sky. But what held their attention most was the knight’s three heads—each belonging to a different species, all sharing a single imposing body.
The leftmost head, a burly minotaur with dark red fur, snorted, nostrils flaring like an approaching storm. The middle head, a sleek avian with glossy black feathers, studied them with razor-sharp curiosity. The rightmost head, a reptilian creature with curling horns, grinned wide—far too wide—revealing rows of needle-like teeth.
The minotaur spoke first, its deep voice rolling like distant thunder. “Travelers! You have reached the threshold of challenge.”
The avian head tilted slightly, its golden eyes unblinking. “To proceed, you must prove yourselves worthy.”
The reptilian head let out a slow, cackling laugh. “And we already know who among you is unworthy.”
James stiffened. “Wait, what?”
All three heads turned in unison, their piercing gazes locking onto him.
“You are James McKarth,” the minotaur rumbled. “The storyteller. The architect of this world.”
James let out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, yeah, technically, but I wasn’t going to—“
The avian head cut him off. “You wrote the trials. You know the answers.” Their piercing eyes glowed faintly as if peering into the fabric of the tale itself. “You would seek to cheat your own test.”
The reptilian head sneered, its forked tongue flicking between jagged fangs. “And we cannot allow that.”
Without warning, the ground beneath James cracked open. Thick vines—larger and faster than the ones from the cage—erupted from below, snapping around his arms and torso.
James yelped, his tentacles flailing. “Wait! Wait! I wasn’t going to cheat! I swear!”
The minotaur huffed. “Perhaps. But you know too much.”
The avian head’s voice was calm but firm. “This is their test. Not yours.”
The reptilian head flicked its tongue, eyes gleaming. “And so, you must go.”
With a sudden, violent pull, the vines launched James into the sky. His shout of protest faded as he vanished into the swirling, illustrated clouds above, swallowed whole by the ever-shifting world of his own making.
Robin crossed her arms, watching him go. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”
The minotaur turned its gaze to the remaining group. “Now, without his interference, the test begins.”
Haley’s fists clenched at her sides, but she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Fine. What’s the test?”
A low grin spread across the minotaur head as the world around them reshaped for the trial. “A simple task. You must help something in need. But beware—what appears to be the right choice may not be.”
The reptilian head flicked its tongue again. “Choose wisely, or remain here forever.”
The ground beneath them flickered, the trees shifting once again. A new part of the story was forming behind the knight.
Robin exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “I’m guessing there’s no skip button for this?”
Haley smirked. “Wouldn’t be a hero’s journey if there was.”
The ground beneath them rippled like paint settling onto a fresh page, and the forest transformed. The giant trees coiled together, forming an impervious wall as the cartoonish mushrooms rearranged into neat little clusters. The once-meandering path split into three distinct trails, each with an object at the end. At the fork, a weathered wooden signpost sprouted into view with hand-painted letters swirling as if written in mid-motion:
A heart must choose: The Lost, The Forgotten, or The Left Behind.
Haley read the words aloud, frowning. “That’s… unsettling.”
The avian head fluffed its feathers. “The choice is yours.”
The minotaur head nodded solemnly. “But remember—the obvious answer is not always the right one.”
The reptilian head grinned, flicking its tongue. “Choose carefully.”
Haley’s breath came slow and steady as she reviewed the three paths before her, but something about them felt off in a way she couldn’t describe.
To the left—The Lost—a small, shadowy figure sat hunched on a log, their tiny shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Haley’s chest tightened at the sight. The path behind them vanished into thick mist as if whatever world they had once belonged to was lost to them entirely. The child’s form flickered, incomplete, like a story abandoned midway.
Haley swallowed, forcing herself not to get lost in sadness and to study the other paths.
In the center—The Forgotten—a pair of stone wings slumped beneath tangled vines with no body to support them. The wings stretched outward, stiff and unmoving, half-buried in the dirt as though time had worn them down. This was not a guardian. Not even a being anymore. Just the remnants of something that had once been whole.
A slow exhale escaped Haley’s lips.
To the right—The Left Behind—an old book rested on a stone pedestal. At first glance, the object seemed ordinary—just a book left behind. But as Haley stepped closer, she felt a deep pull in her chest, like something begging to be remembered. Its brittle pages fluttered in a breeze that didn’t exist, its cracked spine and faded lettering whispering of something discarded, condemned, erased on purpose.
Her pulse quickened, but Robin’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Okay. We got a lost kid, a neglected statue, or an old book. I feel like this test emphasizes themes of abandonment.”
Rosemary flicked her tail. “Tiffany, you wouldn’t happen to know the answer?”
Tiffany’s serpentine hair shifted slightly, though the snakes remained still. “Sorry, but I never got around to reading his book…”
A deep rumble emanated again from the minotaur head. “Many hearts can offer kindness to The Lost.”
In a softer tone, the avian head intoned, “Some will fight for The Forgotten, though they may never rise.”
Then the reptilian head hissed, its voice low and menacing, “But who offers their heart to The Left Behind?”
Haley returned to her thoughts. A test of heart shouldn’t be about judgment or strength. It should be about compassion. But why was the test forcing them to choose?
And suddenly, she knew.
“The test isn’t about picking one,” she said firmly. “It’s about saving all of them.”
Robin blinked in surprise, a spark of understanding igniting in her eyes. “That makes sense—but how do you choose all at once?”
Haley didn’t answer. She just moved.
She ran to The Left Behind, her fingers brushing the book’s cracked cover. The world trembled, as if questioning her choice—but she didn’t stop.
Cradling the book, she bolted toward The Lost and dropped to one knee beside the trembling child. She held out the book with a gentle smile. “Here. Hold onto this and follow me.”
The child—The Lost—stared at the book with wide, uncertain eyes. Slowly, as if the color were being painted into their form by an unseen hand, their flickering outline solidified. They stood whole and real before her.
A low whistle of encouragement came from Robin. “Go, Haley! You got this!”
Haley ran, The Lost at her heels. The ground still trembling as they reached the central clearing where The Forgotten rested, stone wings buried beneath vines.
“Keep holding the book,” Haley told The Lost, lifting them gently toward the ruined wings.
The moment the child’s back brushed against the cold, cracked surface, the vines that ensnared the relic withered away. The stone crumbled to reveal a cascade of iridescent feathers—sapphire, gold, crimson, and violet—expanding and melding with the child’s form. The ancient book shimmered, its worn pages smoothing, its faded ink darkening. It was no longer abandoned. No longer left behind.
Complete at last, the child lifted into the air, soaring in a brilliant streak of color.
The knight watched in silence as the dreamlike world shifted, as if pages of a book had been turned to a new chapter.
The avian head let out a slow, approving nod. “You have chosen well.”
The minotaur head rumbled in agreement, “A heart does not divide—it unites.”
Even the reptilian head’s grin softened. “You may pass.”
Before them, the trees parted like a drawn curtain, revealing a jagged mountain looming in the distance. Steam hissed out as a dark cave yawned open at the base, complete with pointed rocks that looked like teeth.
Robin shook her head in disbelief, a small, amused smile curving her lips. “I wonder if that’s how James wrote the answer.”
Haley turned toward her, an easy confidence in her stance. “I like to think I passed it the right way.”
Robin met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them—an unshaken trust, an unspoken understanding. Then, with a smirk, she nudged Haley’s arm. “You always do.”
Haley felt a flicker of warmth at the words, at the certainty in Robin’s voice. She chuckled, nudging her back. “Alright, let’s go find our crown.”
The path leading to the dragon’s cave shimmered like tiles lighting up as they stepped on them. The jagged mountain ahead looked less like real stone and more like something drawn in colored pencil, with bold lines and exaggerated shading. Steam curled from the cave’s entrance, swirling in dramatic spirals like part of a theatrical display.
Haley took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders like a boxer stepping into the ring. “Alright, time to face the big, fire-breathing final boss.”
Robin let out a dry laugh, shifting her stance. “Yeah… about that. Does anyone actually know how to fight a dragon?”
Haley shot her a sideways glance. “Uh, maybe we’ll find a magical sword along the way?”
Rosemary’s tail flicked as she peered toward the cavern entrance, steam curling lazily from the shadows. “Or… we could not fight it? Maybe just sneak past?”
Tiffany, who had been quiet, finally spoke, her voice calm but firm. “You’re all thinking about this the wrong way.”
Haley turned to her, brow raised. “Oh yeah? Enlighten us.”
Tiffany gestured toward the surreal, storybook-like landscape around them—the towering, spiral-barked trees, the glowing mushrooms that pulsed like they had a heartbeat, the painted clouds moving like children on swings. “This world isn’t built on combat. It’s built on heart. Every challenge we’ve faced so far hasn’t been about brute force. It’s been about understanding—helping, connecting, putting things back together.” She looked toward the mouth of the cave, where deep within, something rumbled—a sound less like a growl and more like… a sigh. “What if the dragon isn’t the enemy? What if we’re supposed to befriend them?”
Haley hesitated. “Befriend? As in, walk up and just say hi?”
Rosemary smirked. “Couldn’t hurt to start with a compliment. I mean, who doesn’t love being told their scales are majestic?”
Robin gave an exaggerated sigh. “I cannot believe this is our strategy.”
Haley cracked a grin, nudging her with an elbow. “Better than getting roasted alive. Besides, you and I made friends with Bangarang.”
“That’s true,” Robin said, feeling more optimistic.
“Alright,” Haley said with a cheerful spirit. “Let’s go make a new friend.”
Haley took the first step toward the cave and whatever waited inside.
The moment they stepped through the entrance, the air changed—not to the damp, acrid scent of a dragon’s lair, but something far cozier. The cavern walls shimmered with soft blues and purples, smooth as polished seashells. Towering stacks of oversized books stretched toward the ceiling, nestled between scattered piles of gold coins and trinkets. Plush, richly woven rugs covered the floor, their intricate patterns forming swirling, unreadable scripts.
At the far end of the cavern, a massive nest woven from golden threads and silken cushions sat like a throne. And curled up within its soft embrace, entirely at ease, was the dragon.
They were enormous, their scales shifting like liquid sapphire and amethyst under the dim light. Their wings, half-draped over the cushions, gave the impression of a creature mid-slumber, except for the fact that they were reading—a book the size of a dining table supported by a boulder. Their molten gold eyes traced the words with surprising gentleness despite their talons being each the length of Haley’s entire body.
Robin took a slow step forward, wide-eyed. “Okay. Not what I expected.”
The dragon looked up, exhaling a lazy puff of smoke. Their expression wasn’t one of menace but mild surprise, as if someone had interrupted them mid-chapter.
“Oh! Visitors?” Their voice was deep but warm, laced with curiosity. They folded the book shut, the thud echoing softly through the cavern, and stretched their wings just enough to send a faint ripple through the air. “You’re early. Have you not found the legendary weapons?”
Tiffany clasped her hands behind her back and stepped forward, composed but respectful. “We’re not here to fight you,” she said. “We’re here to visit you.”
The dragon blinked, tilting their massive head slightly. Then, to everyone’s surprise, they let out a deep, rolling chuckle that reverberated through the cavern walls.
“Oh. Oh, that’s new.” They huffed out a stream of harmless smoke. “Usually, heroes charge in, swords drawn, yelling about slaying me or demanding the crown.” They sighed, flicking their tail across the cushions. “It’s honestly quite rude.”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “You get a lot of that?”
“You have no idea.” The dragon rolled onto their back, their massive wings stretching lazily. “Every single time. No hello, no ‘hey, how’s it going?’ Just a bunch of shouting about destiny and royal artifacts. No one ever asks if I want to guard the crown. It’s just… part of the story.”
Haley and Tiffany exchanged a glance before Haley turned back to the dragon. “So… do you?”
The dragon paused, tapping a claw absently against the cover of their book. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it.” They glanced at the golden crown resting in their nest, its jeweled surface glimmering under the cavern’s soft light. “It is a rather dull job. And I’ve read every book in this cave at least a hundred times.”
Robin folded her arms. “Okay, what if we made you a deal? You give us the crown, and we’ll bring you new books.”
The dragon’s ears perked. “New books?” Their tail twitched with interest.
Tiffany nodded. “I would be happy to bring you books from our library anytime. We have millions of stories I bet you haven’t read yet.”
The dragon’s golden eyes gleamed, their entire posture shifting from bored indifference to eager curiosity. “That… that actually sounds wonderful.”
Haley smiled. “So, deal?”
The dragon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, they stretched their wings, lifting their head with a slow, deliberate motion. Then, with a flick of their claw, they plucked the crown from their nest and studied the object The Creator tasked them with guarding. Their gaze was distant, as if realizing they had never once questioned their role before. Then, with a satisfied hum, they tossed the crown toward Robin.
Robin caught it, blinking in disbelief. “Wait. That’s it? Really?”
The dragon chuckled, their voice a deep, amused rumble. “Just promise me a good selection of fantasy and adventure novels.”
Haley smirked. “We’ll even throw in some graphic novels.”
“Done,” the dragon purred, looking entirely pleased.
The moment Robin placed the crown on her head, the cavern shuddered. The cave, the books, and the dragon all blurred at the edges, like ink dissolving in water. Light engulfed them, and in the blink of an eye—
The story turned its final page.
Haley, Robin, Rosemary, and Tiffany stood in the middle of the library’s lobby. No more glowing mushrooms. No more painted skies. No more shifting, storybook landscapes. Instead of damp earth and enchanted flowers, the air smelled of coffee and paper. The bookshelves stood precisely where they belonged, with nothing damaged or out of place. The carpet floor beneath their feet felt real—solid, unwavering.
Tiffany exhaled, touching the nearest bookshelf to ensure she was back. “We did it.”
Robin let out a slow breath, reaching for the crown on top of her head—except what she grabbed wasn’t a crown. She brought the object into view.
“Uh,” she muttered, reading the golden inscription on a solid black cover. Just Us Kids by James McKarth.
Robin raised an eyebrow. “Wait… the crown became James’ book?”
As Robin was about to crack open the book, Haley stopped her. “Let’s not open that again.”
“Right,” Robin said. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
“Where’s James?” Tiffany asked.
A voice from above interrupted them.
“Hello?”
They all looked up.
High above, wedged precariously on top of a bookshelf, was James, all four of his tentacle arms flailing dramatically. His suit was slightly rumpled, his glasses askew, but otherwise, he looked unharmed—just highly inconvenienced.
“Could someone get me down from here?”
Rosemary let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing her temples. “I’ll go get our ladder.”
Haley stepped off the light rail car and into the vibrant pulse of her neighborhood. The streets of Aequus were alive with the evening crowd, bathed in the glow of bright murals and holographic billboards that rippled across the facades of colorful buildings. Sidewalks bustled with people, their laughter and conversation blending into the ambient hum of street musicians and the occasional rattle of a cocktail shaker. The area was built with a focus on pedestrians, not vehicles. Vendors lined the massive walkways, their carts overflowing with artwork for sale, handcrafted jewelry, and freshly baked pastries that filled the air with sweet and savory scents.
As she made her way home, the familiar storefronts of her neighborhood greeted her like old friends. Her gaze lingered on the warm golden light spilling from the windows of the candle shop below her apartment, the scent of lavender and sandalwood wrapping around her like a welcome embrace. Pushing open the door to the multipurpose building, she took the stairs two at a time, her body eager for rest despite the swirling thoughts in her head.
Haley’s loft was a curated chaos of color and comfort. Exposed brick walls bore the marks of old murals she had painted over the years, blending abstract shapes with cosmic swirls of deep purples and electric blues. String lights zigzagged across the ceiling, their soft glow casting dancing shadows over shelves packed with books, vintage knick-knacks, and a collection of oddities she had picked up during her many adventures. A large bay window framed the street below, its sill cluttered with small potted plants—mostly succulents since they were harder to accidentally kill.
Her couch, a plush monstrosity draped in mismatched blankets and an array of throw pillows, beckoned her like an old friend. She kicked off her sneakers and collapsed onto the couch with a groan, sinking into its embrace. For a long moment, she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the day’s exhaustion settle into her bones. The library was back. James was safe. Tiffany locked the book away. The city continued on as if nothing had ever happened. But Haley knew better. Mysteries never truly ended—they just waited for the next curious mind to uncover them.
Her fingers found the familiar weight of her music player resting in her hoodie pocket. With a flick of her thumb, she powered it on, the tiny screen flickering to life. The question gnawed at her, refusing to be ignored.
“Who did James get the paper from for his book?”
She pressed shuffle.
The screen flashed a familiar song title: “Herald of Darkness.”
Haley sat up, her heart skipping a beat. The soft hum of the city outside faded as the words sank in. A chill traced down her spine.
Mysteries never truly ended.
And neither had this one.
Thank you for reading my short story episode about The Sounds.
As with past stories, I did ask for song suggestions. This round included the following music:
- Sway by Rosemary Clooney
- Obstacle 1 by Interpol
- Second Skin by The Gits
- Just Us Kids by James McMurtry
- Dare to be Stupid by Weird Al Yankovic
Thank you for reading! If you loved this series and want to read more stories, connect with me on social media @DennisSpielman (DennisSpielman.com on Bluesky) and let me know. Your kind words help fuel me to create more!
Happy Adventures!