The book knew its worth, though it made sure no one else did. The few who found it, hidden on a high shelf in a dusty old library, marveled at the ancient parchment pages and the words written in flowing gold letters.
They could not read it, and the book made certain they lost interest. It would work its way back to the high shelf and wait.
The book knew what it held: memories, instructions, and even spells. The hand that wrote those things would be the one to pick it up again.
The time neared.
Arthur would soon return.
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