Pentalore: The Forgotten Library

Pentalore: The Forgotten Library

The Prelude to the Pentalore Series

Second Extended Edition

Copyright © 2017 / 2018 Alexander Nassau

Published by Alexander Nassau at Smashwords

ISBN: 9781370529841

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

"For Die Booth.

A long time ago we sat in a car heading off to some innocuous meeting and we talked of ghosts and demons. A decade has passed, and finally as we discussed, I have lifted the cover on that dark Library in a city we know so well."

See More from the Author on my Blog

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Prologue

Chapter One - The Crack in a Wall

Chapter Two - Inquisition

Chapter Three - The Silent Guardian

Chapter Four - The Artist and the Regent

Chapter Five - Paradise Lost

Chapter Six - Egos and Eccentrics

Chapter Seven - The Army of Stone

Chapter Eight - Another Cigar Winston?

Chapter Nine - Hunters and Pray

Chapter Ten - A Different Kind of Evil

Chapter Eleven - A Poets Tale

Chapter Twelve - Blood is thicker than Water

Chapter Thirteen - The End of Summer

Chapter Fourteen - Things Lost but not Forgotten

Epilogue

Preview of Pentalore - Darkseed

Preview of the Endless Saga

More Books from the Author

Life in the Shadow - Authors Retrospective

About the Author

INTRODUCTION

Human history is an open book, or so they would like to think. In this modern age of science and understanding humanity knows much, and what it doesn't know it seeks to explain with logic and reason. It is a universal truth though that history is not what we think.

If I asked you what happened yesterday in the world, you would know a little of these great events that have transpired around you. They would be reported on the internet and the television and written about in newspapers, but even you would know that what is reported is shrouded in lies and half truths. This is the nature of humanity.

If I asked you to tell me what happened fifty years ago, then this would be a far more difficult question. You would need to research this by looking at newspapers. Television was only just becoming established in this time and the internet is a distant dream. The people of this age could rely on the radio to bolster their knowledge, but the fact is the truth is still hidden from most.

If I asked you what happened one hundred and fifty years ago... well, you would struggle. Only newspapers would bring you events and certainly not on a global scale. Beyond word of mouth, you would be unaware of what was happening beyond your door step, and lies and half truth mask reality for a commoner.

If I asked you what happened three hundred years ago... well, I think you get the idea. The only facts we have are what has been written and collected over time, all told from the point of view of those without science or understanding. These unenlightened minds trying to reason reality and always get it wrong. This is where legends and myth come from, those of limited scope trying to reason what they do not understand.

There is a problem though. All legends and myths have their origins and even today, humanity is unaware of what is around them, hiding in plain sight.

They came to our world tens of thousands of years ago and if you know where to look and you understand the truth of who and what they are, you will see the clues throughout our short history.

A cave painting nearly twenty thousand years old showing humans being taught to hunt by a tall creature with horns and wing. This stick figure painting could easily be dismissed, but it shows the truth. The Gargoyles that reside on the walls of Cathedrals, these dark winged beasts that protect and watch over these most holy of places, yet religion does not see these hideous statues as evil, a glaring contradiction. The legends of dragons and demons that run throughout every culture, some of them revered, some of them despised. In this modern age of enlightenment, they are simple stories, myths of our simpler ancestors.

They are not myth. They walk amongst us, silently moving in our world.

They are the Aemon, what most people would call demons and they not what we think.

PROLOGUE

Looking out over the city through the small window he shook his head and let out a sigh. In the time he had been trapped here this world had changed beyond recognition. It was the defining puzzle of humanity that would never abate his curiosity. How they managed to simultaneously try to kill each other in ever more creative ways and yet somehow manage to continue their evolution and enlightenment was beyond him.

In barely one hundred years they had somehow managed to drag themselves from an almost feudal society to their current technological prowess, inventing metal machine that would never tire to carry them not only across the land, but in to the sky as well. They had harnessed the power of electricity, discovered how to split the atom and delved in to the secrets of DNA. Their list of achievements was staggering, one may say even unnatural.

Yet their thirst for war had grown as well. Two world wars in the same time span, with dozens of smaller and equally vicious conflicts staining that evolution with the blood of innocents.

They could be described as the ultimate predator of this world but for one simple fact. A predator does not kill for the pleasure of it. They kill driven by a biological need to survive.

It was philosophical nightmare. Watch them burn, or save them, a question that had conflicted him since he had been exiled to Terra. They were the key though in more ways that they knew.

Soon by their calendar it would be the second millennium and there had been moments in his life he wondered if they would ever reach this point. So many times, they had been on the brink of annihilation either at their own hand, or by the hand of forces far more powerful than they knew.

He watched the people below walking by, oblivious of what was right under their noses as they went about their day, only the occasional enlightened soul briefly glancing up to this building with a sense of fear they could not explain before dismissing it in the quintessential human way.

If the Prophecies were to be believed though, it would not be long before they knew the truth.

Looking out he could see the Welsh mountains far in the distance as his thought turned to his heart. Out there somewhere was his daughter, the light of his life, the monster that walked in both worlds unrestrained by their morality. He wondered what she horrors she was committing, how many tortured souls were under her thrall as she sank deeper in to her obsession and he worried about her. Worried that he was not there to restrain her, to look after her and to try and bring some light to her world.

Only the seven knew he was imprisoned here and he knew they were right to have done this. He deserved it if you interpreted the dictates. He still believed his efforts were laudable though, justified in their own way, his only goal to save his people. They saw his actions as a crime while he saw them as a path to salvation. It was a fine line and while he felt their actions were a cruel and unusual punishment, he could understand why they had done this.

The humans had taken her from him. The others had seen her as the Regent of their damnation, their wise leader and protector. Although the others never knew, he had called her his wife. The humans, twisted by their great enemy had cut her down without reason or mercy in front of their daughter. Any compassion he had was extinguished that day and while he bore them no malice, he could never see them as anything more that subjects for his work. They had burnt his heart out that day.

Her killers were now long dead, nothing more than dust lost in the sands of time, but they could never understand the eternity of pain they had forced him to endure. The key to their survival resided in these humans, somewhere inside them the answers to solving the mystery of the Blight. If once he had questioned his actions, now he was cold and dispassionate.

Was it right for him to punish them though for the actions of those long gone?

He paused his deliberations as a small figure appeared in the crowds far below, a brown paper bag in her hand. She stopped looking up at his vantage point and much to the bemusement of those around her waved up at him.

The innocence of a child untouched by the hatred, mistrust and prejudice of her elders.

Maybe she was his path back to forgiveness, not that she knew of such things. He watched as she disappeared in to the crowd once more and soon he would have a visitor in his library.

This library was his punishment, a place where he maintained the record of his kind on this world, the story of their history, their adventures and their sorrows.

This was the Forgotten Library.

CHAPTER ONE

The Crack in a Wall

Running down the street he felt free. This was the moment he had been waiting for all year, finally released from the place he hated. School.

The sun felt warm on his back as he ran down Eastgate Street, pausing under the clock as he frowned and looked around. Chester was quiet with only scattered people browsing the shops, tourists taking photographs as they explored and he felt himself deflate a little.

He huffed walking over to one of the shop windows as he sighed, looking at his reflection in the glass as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair. Was it any wonder he got bullied? He was skinny, weedy and he looked far too much like a geek. His only redeeming feature was his quite angular jaw, that that certainly could not offset everything else. Still at least now out of school uniform and back in his street clothes he could at least shake off some of that reputation.

He sighed again looking down the street both ways, his eyes searching the small crowds.

Summer holidays were supposed to be about having fun. Sitting by the banks of the river, chasing round town and occasionally getting in to trouble, but to do that you needed someone to do it with and to his disappointment he had not seen anyone.

Well, he had seen James Bright, the bane of his life and school bully with his gang of idiots. They had chased him out of the bus station but thankfully he had lost them down a back street. He had left the house telling his mother that he was going to go meet Dee. Technically it was a lie, but he was hoping to catch up with her. She had been giving him the brush off most of the year. She was his best friends at school, they always came to Chester in their down time but recently she seemed to be avoiding him when it came to time outside of school.

At first he had thought it was just the usual playground rubbish. The game of friends where one minute you are besties, the next you are not talking but the truth was at school she was no different than she had ever been, his best friend. Outside of school though she was giving him the brush off, always being mysterious and coy about what she was doing.

He had decided that this was a mystery that he was going to solve.

He had called Dee this morning to see if she wanted to come out and much to his surprise her mother had said she had already set off and was heading in to Chester. Dee had a sweet tooth so the first place he would check was Brannigans, the best sweet shop in the city. It did not take that long before he found himself stood in front of the Cathedral, the row of old shops to the side with their ancient facades inviting him as he paused outside looking at all the jars filled with brightly coloured delights. He stuffed his hand in his pocket quickly checking how much he had before walking over to the door and entering.

There was always something unnatural about this place. On the one hand they had everything you could ever want to delight your taste buds, but for some reason it smelt like a doctor's surgery. The old man looked at him and raised an eyebrow as he tentatively walked forward looking up to the large jars festooning the shelves.

Rhubarb and Custards, Jelly Beans, UFO's and dozens of other items sat there, hard and soft, tasty and occasionally disgusting. He knew what he liked but why anyone would like liquorice defied his explanation.

Can I have fifty pence of sherbet bombs please, he asked politely as the old man turned, taking a large jar of multi coloured sweets off the shelf.

He unscrewed the lid and started to pour the little sherbet balls in to a weighting scale meticulously, the needle on the scale slowly rising. After a moment he stopped, putting the lid back on the jar and replacing it before grabbing a brown paper bag, pouring the sweets in. With a swift flick of his wrist he wrapped the bag up before putting down on the side giving him a smile.

He handed over the fifty pence piece and took the bag, stuffing it in to his pocket. The ancient till chimed and rattled as he put the money inside before turning back to him as he stood there giving him a questioning look.

Sorry to ask Mr Brannigan, but have you seen Dee this morning? he asked in a quiet voice.

You just missed her Marcus, he replied giving him a smile, She just came in for her usual Rhubarb and Custards. She does need to be careful though and clean her teeth with the amount she seems to go through. She will end up with no teeth left if she isn't careful.

Thank you Mr Brannigan, he said with a slightly mournful sigh as he walked towards the door, the bell just above it chiming as he walked back out in to the sunshine.

He looked around the streets trying to see if he could see Dee. It did seem odd to him though. She was always pinching his sweets and never seemed to have any of her own. As a group of American tourists flocked around the Cathedral, their cameras clicking away like a plague of locust, he walked out on to the cobbled street back in to the sunshine trying to pick her out in the crowds.

He frowned shaking his head seeing nothing but then he saw a glimpse of her walking away far in the distance. He smiled to himself as he broke in to a sprint trying to catch up, the cobbles underfoot quite hard as his ankles twisted a little with each stride.

She disappeared back on to Eastgate street as he nearly tripped over, wondering why nobody had replaced the uneven and dangerous silly cobbles but it did not take long before he was back on smooth ground again, his pace picking up. Skidding round the corner he paused looking for Dee.

Mucus Knort, a familiar voice came from behind him as he turned to see his tormentors.

Mucus. That's funny. You really struggle to live up to the name Bright though. I would call you thick, he snapped back trying to be witty.

They looked at each other, but he didn't give them a chance bolting. At this moment, a black eye on the first day out would have his mother ground him for the rest of the summer holidays.

Running through the street he dodged in and out of the various people, scampering over the road to get away from Bright and his bullies, glancing over his shoulder seeing them chasing him. They really were gormless. Who came in to Chester just to continue their stupid school playground antics?

As his heart thumped in his chest he found himself surprised to see Dee in the distance walking towards a building. Strength in numbers and all and Bright was afraid of Dee. She had belted him in the playground one day and gave him a bloody nose.

There seemed to be a commotion behind him as he glanced over, one of Bright gang having collided with some passing shoppers and out of the corner of his eye the familiar day glow vest of a police officer now jumping to duty.

This was not going to end well and if getting a black eye would see him grounded for the summer, getting home in a police car would see him grounded for life!

He returned quickly to the path ahead as he focused on Dee again, watching as she seemed to walk towards some shops, but then something odd happened.

She went down a thin alley. That was not what surprised him though.

It was the fact he had never seen that alley before today. He could see it clear as day, but he had been here hundreds of times before and for some reason never noticed it. He could see Dee walking down it though and now being chased not only by Bright and his gang, but a police officer too he needed to get away.

The streets were now getting more crowded as he lost sight of Dee for a moment. Pushing through the crowd, people jumping out of his way he needed to get to her but as he focused back on the alley way Dee was gone.

It only took a moment before he skidded to a halt slipping down the alley as he paused to catch his breath. Looking back out on to the street he could see James and his gang arrive, looking around the crowds for him, but it was only then he felt it.

It was the most awful feeling of dread almost paralysing him. His skin went cold and clammy as he gulped instinctively in fear. He wanted to run. Run away from this place as fast as he could but his only escape was before him, right in to the hands of his enemy. He could hear his heart thumping like a drum in his ears as the police officer arrived grabbing James by the collar.

He wasn't going to stick around for this as he turned, overcoming the spine chilling fear running through him as he pushed down the alley until he was faced with a solid stone wall.

There was no escape as he glanced back. Viewing what was going on at the end of the alley he felt a little confusion. They were almost looking straight at him, but there was not one sign they had seen him. He was standing in plain sight but they were oblivious.

He looked around this crumbling wall and just to the side, almost hidden away, was some broken masonry. As he moved closer a piece of the sandstone had eroded away, and there was a crack in the wall just big enough for a person to get through.

On one side he had the certain fate of being sent home in a police car and a summer sitting at home playing video games. On the other, perhaps an escape route even if he didn't know where it led.

It wasn't a hard decision as he