Kingdom of the Forgotten Sun

The rain had stopped, but the world outside remained gray and still. Liam Routh sat cross-legged on the reading room floor, surrounded by half-eaten snacks, stacks of translation notes, and a warm mug of coffee that had gone cold hours ago.

He hadn't left the library in three days.

The book—Kingdom of the Forgotten Sun—had become an obsession. The ancient ink was unlike anything he'd seen: it changed shades with temperature, and in some cases, letters moved ever so slightly when viewed from the corner of one's eye. Liam was convinced the text was layered, encoded. And maybe alive.

That morning, something new appeared. A page he could've sworn wasn't there before.

It was blank—until sunlight hit it through the stained glass dome. Then, a single phrase emerged:

"He watches from behind the glass."

Liam's skin prickled. He turned to glance behind him. Nothing.

The deeper he read, the more the line between past and present frayed. The names in the book—Kael, Vireya, Arinya—were beginning to appear in his dreams. Sometimes, he'd wake up whispering them. Sometimes…they whispered back.

And then came the map.

Pressed between pages like an ancient flower, it hadn't been there yesterday. Drawn in meticulous detail with ink that shimmered faintly in the dark, it outlined a region in what would today be eastern Turkey. One village name was underlined in red: Deyazra.

He cross-checked it against historical databases. There was no record of such a place.

But the coordinates matched a ruin he'd seen once in a fringe paper. An excavation had been scheduled there years ago—and mysteriously canceled.

Liam stared at the map for a long time, fingers trembling.

"It's real," he murmured. "God help me—it's real."

His phone buzzed. It was an email from the university: We've reviewed your grant request. Denied.

Liam sighed, then stood.

"Screw the grant." He folded the map carefully, stuffed it into his coat, and grabbed the book.

If no one believed him, he'd go alone.

Outside, the rain began again, soft and persistent.

And far beneath the city, something old stirred.

To be continued...