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Libraries filled every district. Some were small enough to fit beneath a staircase; others were enormous stone cathedrals whose shelves disappeared into the clouds. Bridges connected libraries across narrow canals. Bookshops occupied entire buildings. Children learned to read before they learned to wield a sword.
There was no city in the world quite like Libramere.
It had no grand palace, no marketplace large enough to boast about, and no fortress surrounded by fields of soldiers. Instead, its towers, streets, bridges, and even its houses were built around books.
Libramere itself was a book.
And the cults were not trying to destroy the libraries.
They were trying to destroy the story.
Because if the city fell, the final page would be exposed.
And someone would finally get the chance to decide how the world ended.
