The Book

He breathed a sigh of relief. His breath escaping as white wisps of swirls in the cave lit only by the few torches thrown about the stone walls. His hands were covered in a cold sweat as he gripped the handle of his sword. The worn leather had long started to unwind, allowing for the cold of hard steal to come through. His hands shook and violently at that. The pain had long numbed into an uncomfortable ache. This quest had been a difficult one.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. It all started with that damned request. A yellowed paper with a call for help written in dainty writing pasted on the tier one quest board. He should have known something was off, he thought.

It was too suspicious. A lost black notebook, a widow, an ancient cave, and a reward of twenty thousand coins. Easy money. Go into the cave, find the book, and get out. But that was hours—no, days ago.

Another heavy breath escaped his chest. He was weighed down by not only his armor but also by tiredness. Fresh injuries ached with every movement, but he was almost there. He could see it, not too far in the distance, on a stone pedestal engraved with an ancient text—the small black notebook.

He stopped, leaning against the cavern wall, wincing as his armor clattered loudly against the stone. Luckily, no other noise followed. He was barely able to lose his pursuers.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he rested his head, the cool of the stone chilling his clammy skin.

"Child of mankind," a deep voice echoed through the large open space.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath and readied his sword, looking around for the next enemy, but there was no one to be found. He must be losing his mind. He sighed and relaxed his stance again.

"Hey, you with the sword," the voice once more echoed.

He sighed, pushing himself off the stone, eyes darting across the expense of the dark space but there was no one to be found.

"Whoever is out there, reveal yourself!" he yelled. He voices echoing and bouncing off the walls.

"Idiot, I'm right in front of you," the voice sounded exasperated.

Like a madman, he searched for the source of the voice, his eyes landing only on the small black book. No, there was no way…he was definitely starting to lose his mind.

"Are you dumb or just thick?" the book flapped its white pages with the words, “its always the macho ones, do you have fists for brains?”

"Shit," he cursed. He had not signed up for this. How could a book even talk?! This was something Chris probably knew, his nose always shoved in some book.

The goblins and cave dwellers that had attacked him were already out of his paygrade. For a moment, he contemplated turning around and making his way through the twist and turns of the cave without the book. His body twinged, his feet itching to turn around. But he had come so far.

He ran a hand through hair slicked back with sweat, “you can talk?”

"Numb skull, who else could be talking to you? The corpse of Smegal over there?"

"Smegal?" he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, looking at the corpse of a slain goblin. “What is a Smegal?” he asked.

The book sighed, "never mind, are you the new one here to rescue me?”

“New?”

“Yeah, the other one died,” the book sighed, “you see that skeleton over there well that was the last rescuer.”

"Rescuer?" he mumbled. He was sure that the poster never mentioned rescuing someone. It was supposed to be a simple retrieval but now, thinking back, how could a book have gotten so deep into an ancient cave.

"You really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed," the book replied, the pages once more snapping crisply in like with the words. "My lovely wife must have put out a request to rescue me from the confines of this," there was a moment of silence, "this dingy cave," the book finished.

"Wife…." He stood there, his mouth agape looking at the levitating book. Was he poisoned? Did he eat something strange? This had to be a hallucination.

"My poor honeybunny must have been so stressed and worried."

The voice coming from the book blended into the white noise of his mind as he stared dumbfounded at the levitating notebook, with its crisp white pages snapping open and closed.

"Hey idiot," it shouted, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"How much did she promise you for this?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out, the idea of a talking book still stunting him. He cleared his throat and tried again, "twenty thousand."

The book shut itself. A moment of complete silence passed between them.

"Twenty what?" it quaked out.

"Thousand," he mumbled, "Twenty Thousand."

"You know, maybe I'd rather stay here for a bit more…I really enjoy the atmosphere."

He sighed, walking up to the blabbering book. There was no way he wasted so much time and effort to leave the quacking creature behind. All he needed to do now was grab the book and leave. The taste of twenty thousand almost on his tongue. He could just grab it and go…right? No harm done. It’s not like it would get hurt.

He walked up to the book, looking at it for a long moment, contemplating.

“Mind stepping aside, you look menacing,” it grumbled.

He sighed in response before grabbing the book into his hands.

"Hey, what do you think you are doing, I can sue for this" mumbled erratic words came from it.

He groaned, turning to look towards the long and dark cavern corridor leading to dozen others like it. This would be a long journey but the twenty thousand was worth it.

“Wait until my wife hears about this---”