Parties were not exactly David’s forte, so when his roommates decided to throw another all-weekend drunk bash, he found himself again trudging to the library to get some peace and quiet. He had two essays due and a test next week, after all, and unlike most of his fellow students at the nearby apartments, he actually gave a shit about his education; to him, college wasn’t just an excuse to spend four to five years drinking and fucking until the folks cut off your funding. At twenty-three years old, the redheaded young man was struggling to make it through his final year and complete his bachelors. He didn’t even allow himself the luxury of trying to date.
Of course, this also meant that while he was off getting good grades, he was probably the only one not getting lucky. Normally this wouldn’t bother him, but he wasn’t the best at picking up girls anyway and it was hard enough getting the privacy to relieve his needs. He certainly wasn’t about to take advantage of a drunk freshman girl, no matter how tempting. Another reason to sequester himself in the library; he didn’t need to remind himself of his frustration.
Still, three hours of solid studying was about as much as he could take. Stuffing his books into his backpack, he stood, stretched, and wondered what he would do to stall heading back to the debauchery. Thinking on it, he had some of his fencing equipment in the trunk of his car. He could go to the gym for some sword practice for an hour, then maybe grab some dinner and come back. Yeah, that sounded good.
Having sequestered himself in the deep archive stacks, he had to wind his way through a bit of labyrinth to make his way back out. As he passed by one of the “staff only” doors, however, he noticed one of them was ajar. Normally, he would not have stuck his nose in, but something caught his eye. Though the lights in the room were off, the sliver of light going through the open door revealed a glint of gold. Curious, David paused and looked through the door again. Opening the door, he saw a book had apparently fallen from a shelf onto the floor.
David stepped into the room and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was a musty old tome, the hardback cover worn down so that any detail on the front was impossible to make out. The edge of the pages had been glossed with a gold finish which, now that he looked, was mostly faded. Opening the book, he turned the yellowing pages to see that most of them were blank. Frowning, he flipped to the very beginning, and saw that only the very first page had any writing on it. The script was a fine calligraphy, and looked to be actually hand-written. David read aloud: