The sun was hot on her face and why she had decided to take lunch in the park, well knowing the heat index was through the roof even she couldn't tell you. Olivia struggled to finish the apple in her hand; its shiny surface interrupted by a single large bite into its flesh, but it still left her unsatisfied. Perhaps it was because an apple, a side of peanut butter that remained untouched, and a bottle of water had been her lunch meal for the past two weeks. The taste of the combination grew weary in her mouth, just like this lunch hour had.
Nothing in her life changed, nothing grew interesting, nothing grew exciting. It was just...nothing. Olivia yearned for an adventurous life, but her introverted nature and lack of motivation dissolved any muse she had for a change in her daily pace. Unfortunately, a lonely lunch break could not solve her life problems and any thoughts regarding the matter were promptly interrupted by the soft beep of her dainty wristwatch warning her of the ending hour.
_
"Hey Lola," Olivia spoke into the void of the bookstore as she entered; the call producing a young woman from a back room who beamed happily at her returned co-worker. Happy to see her or happy to finally get her own lunch break? Olivia liked to assume the former.
"Enjoy your lunch?" The dark-haired girl leaned forward onto the counter, attempting conversation as if to be genuinely curious about Olivia's answer. God, she was such a cynic.
"Don't go to the park unless you want to suffer from a heat stroke; I barely made it back without melting into a puddle on the sidewalk." Olivia pushed her sandy hair out of her face and moved to place her bookbag beneath the counter, taking her place behind the register. "Any new customers in my absence?"
"Not a one; seems like no one's interested in the physical book anymore." Lola sighed defeatedly with a small shrug of her shoulders. It was an inevitable time with the introduction on various technological devices with instant access to any book you could think of - many even with narrator to read them to you. Olivia would never give up the feeling of a heavy book in her hands or the discovery of an old, lost tome and the musky smell of its pages. One of the few things that brought her genuine joy.
"I guess it's to be expected; seems like I haven't seen anyone come in since the holidays."
"Don't let it get you down, girlie. I know how much you value this place and the memories made here but you are attached too heavily to a dying motion. If you do not get out of this place, and I mean more than just going home, I have a feeling you'll go crazy once the inevitable comes." Lola looked at her with a genuine gaze of concern complimented by a small but friendly smile.
"I know." Olivia's only response. She hated that Lola was right. She had done nothing with her life except pour her time into a place that was destined to die. Maybe it was her fear of death and dying alone that made her refuse to abandon the place she called home away from home. Yet, times felt it was better to die with dignity than to die slowly and fall into disrepair.
"I'm going to lunch, and I expect a smile on your pretty face when I return." Lola gave her another smile, bigger and brighter before grabbing her things and heading out of the front door. Olivia envied her positivity.
In Lola's absence, and the absence of anyone bothering to visit, Olivia took on her daily task of archiving many of the old books that lined the tops of the bookshelves. Quite often they were forgotten, coated in many layers of dust and grime. She hoped to one day find a gem among them, but most had turned out to be basic histories and encyclopedias, nothing that held any sway in her interest.
Olivia carefully stepped up the rolling library ladder and drew a dust-rag across the spines of several books; the dust drawing a sneeze here and there. "Looks like no one's been up here since the place was built." Many were lined up in numerical or alphabetical orders, in indication of their volumes and subjects. Nothing out of the ordinary had managed to catch her eye just yet.
Perhaps an hour had passed, but there was no sign of Lola's return and sadly no sign of anything worth looking at beyond a thorough dusting and at this point her legs were growing numb from the constant need to balance herself on the rolling ladder. Stepping down slowly, Olivia's eyes came into view of a small nook underneath the top shelf. To a normal eye on ground level, it looked like another part of the bookcase but at this view she could easily see it was something to be opened and closed, a hidden cache.
"What do we have here?" Olivia wiggled her slender fingers into the small opening, but nothing happened beyond the scrapping of her skin. She, instead, withdrew and pushed on the flat surface; to her surprise the nook popped open easily. "Well that was uneventful."
Olivia inched her hand into the darkness with a fear of something other than inanimate treasures would attack her appendages but the feeling of a smooth-like surface beneath her touch rather than something wiggly and hairy, drew a soft sigh from her lips. She pulled the object from the cool darkness, bringing into the light a very old and very well used book. A wave of eagerness poured over her, piqued with excitement like she was a child again finding a buried treasure right beneath her nose.
She could hardly get down the ladder fast enough, nearly missing a few steps as she worked her way down with only one hand to hold her to safety. Alas, it wasn't her lack of hands that caused a slip in her foot but the old, hollowed wood in a step of the ladder that snapped heavily beneath her weight. Tumbling down, Olivia met the ground hard; the last thing her eyes saw and ears heard were darkness and the audible thud of the book landing beside her.
"This is it, I'm dead and I didn't even get to read my book." Such were her priorities. Olivia struggled to move, but her limbs felt like lead and her head felt even heavier. Like a brick on the end of a pencil.
"Don't move, child." An unfamiliar voice drifted into her ears. It wasn't Lola, unless she had aged several decades and it being a patron of the bookstore felt even less likely at this point. She did not heed the stranger's voice, instead acting of her own accord to try and sit up though still enveloped by darkness but heavy hands held her still.
Your eyes are closed. Oh, right.
"Let me move!" Olivia's voice was louder than she intended, but it was even more unfamiliar to her ears than the previous being that spoke. It was less squeaky than hers, soft with a hint of maturity. Her eyes finally fluttered open coming to view the face of an older man, none she had ever seen before. A hood concealed most of his features, but Olivia could see the deep and heavy wrinkles in his skin that betrayed his age and experience.
At her outburst, the weight had left her body allowing her to move into a sitting position to see the room around her. It was not the bookstore; no hint of her previous whereabouts was visible in any way, shape, or form. The walls were the color of tan plaster, decorated heavily with ornate rugs and lit sconces and the floor was dirt. Olivia was settled upon a bed of colorful pillows and linens, but the beautiful yet severely outdated décor was the last thing that prodded her mind.
The darkness of her fall, felt like it had only engulfed her mind for a mere few minutes – not enough to see her movement to a new place that she doubt would be held nearby to the bookstore that sat in the middle of downtown New York. Strangers surrounded her, staring with only what she could assume were looks of concern on their partially hooded faces.
"Where am I?" Olivia rubbed at her eyes; the hurt as if she had slept too late into the day. "Is Lola here?"
"You are in Masyaf, child. You took a fall during training on the grounds. Do you not remember?" The man attempted to dab at a wound that Olivia had not been previously aware of with a piece of cloth, dipped into a concoction that stung her flesh and caused her to withdraw in pain with a hiss.
She did not answer.