"God, when will there ever be a good book?"
A young man, around 18 or 20, placed a book back on the bookshelf. He wore a green long coat and a black long shirt underneath. Along with his green coat, he also wore a green fedora that covered most of his silky black hair.
His blue eyes narrowed at the shelf full of books, and he let out a sharp, frustrated sigh.
The young man has been seamlessly searching for a book worthy of his praise. After the sudden disappearance of his father 10 years ago, he has been itching for a story that could make him feel something.
That something was still unknown to him, even after many years of searching. There are many books out there in the world, countless even, that are filled with exhilarating stories, but they're just that, a story.
None could truly make him feel like a story would come out and become true. Or a story that could change the course of history.
None but his father's bedtime stories.
His father was a storyteller, a writer, and an artist. Each story he told felt real, like it would someday become true, like a prophecy.
Ding
The doors of the Library chimed as the young man stepped outside. It was dark, gloomy, and rain poured constantly. A normal day in the UK.
"Ugh… When will this hellish rain ever stop?" He grumbled.
After walking for a few minutes, he finally arrived at his destination, his house.
The house wasn't too small nor too big. It was the perfect size for a family of three. But after the sudden disappearance of his father, the house became bigger than it should have been. The empty room his dad used to write his stories made it seem like the house was 10 times bigger than it is.
Creak
The doors creaked as he entered, and he was quickly greeted by the smell of curry from the kitchen.
Smelling the curry, he finally smiled after a long day of frowning, trying to find a good book to read.
He stepped foot into the kitchen where he saw his aged mother cooking. Just like her son, she had light blue eyes and a sharp nose. If it weren't for her blonde hair, they would look identical.
"I'm home."
He removed his drenched coat and placed it on the dirty laundry next door. Without turning around, his mother smiled and greeted her son gently,
"Welcome home, dear."
He sat down at the table and sighed, "Still haven't found a book…"
Knowing that her son has been looking for a book that could replace his father's stories, she turned around and walked towards him. She hugged him tightly and said,
"Oh, Loki… I know one day, you will get to hear the stories your father used to share with you."
Loki scoffed, "You really think so? I don't even remember that old man's face. I doubt he'll ever come back."
She removed her tight hug and instead pinched her son's cheeks, "You missed him dearly, huh?"
"Tsk. Just his story, that's it."
He knew his father wasn't dead because he left them a letter. But he couldn't read the letter, as his mom would always take it away before he could even glance at it. And what's more, he found out that his father wasn't even a real person.
Throughout the UK system, the name Bragi Bard didn't exist.
Loki just sighed, thinking about the past, and shook his head. After a moment, he suddenly saw something on the calendar, May 24 had a symbol that resembled that of a book.
His mother, confused at her dazed son, also looked in the direction he was looking. Once she saw the mark, she perked up and said,
"Ah, so today is the day, huh?"
Confused, Loki asked, "What day?"
Loki's mother glanced at him and gave him a warm smile. She kissed his forehead and said, "Nothing, dear. The curry is cooked, so you should help yourself. I have to go somewhere today, I totally forgot!"
She washed her hands and got ready to leave. After a few minutes, she made her way downstairs, where Loki stared at her in confusion.
"You rarely leave the house. Where are you going? Want me to go with you?"
"No, thank you. You go ahead and eat, I will be back in a few hours."
Loki just nodded and watched her leave the house. After making sure she was safe and had everything on hand, he made his way back to the kitchen and took some curry and rice. But before he could take a bite, he suddenly remembered something: the note his father left behind.
He put down the spoon and made sure his mother left. After making sure, he made his way to his mother's room. After finding the box the note was in, he slowly opened the book and took the note.
However, to his surprise, there was nothing on the note but one letter that he had never seen before.
"A drawing?" He mumbled.
He turned the paper around, and there was nothing on it. He turned it back, but after he did, the symbol disappeared.
He flipped the paper over and over again, trying to find the symbol, but there was nothing. Then suddenly, the paper began to disintegrate. Once it fully disappeared, everything suddenly stopped.
Loki looked around and saw that the clock had stopped moving. He stood up and ran towards the window, and saw a flying bird, stuck in the air.
"W-What the…"
He opened the window and slowly put his hands near the bird. As his hands neared, the bird's eye suddenly moved, staring at Loki.
Tud
Loki stumbled backwards, startled by the bird.
"W-What are-"
Before he could finish, the bird's eyes glowed green. The light was so bright that Loki had to close his eyes and cover them.
Moments later, the light disappeared, and as he opened his eyes, everything was green.
He was in the woods.
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PLEASE READ!
I will tell you now, this will be more focused on the "stories" made, not the MC. He will have a ton of screen time, but the stories are the priority. Keep reading and you will understand! Also, if I make mistakes, please don't go off on me too much, I'm making this out of boredom!