((I'm not sure how much creative liberty I can actually take here, since the closed-off section wasn't really described in detail that I can discern, so I hope having it blocked by magic doors isn't too imposing. o_o ))
"Ayane, huh? That's a nice name." She seemed more soft-spoken than he might have guessed, though women could act meek and polite easily to get what they wanted out of silly, stupid men like himself. He mentally sighed. Ayane, though, didn't seem quite like the conniving type.
He'd acted without thinking again, so it was only after he'd begun leading her towards the shadows that he realized what a rude, forward action it was, especially to a lady. She hadn't said anything, though, so maybe the storybooks had it right... Girls always loved when a damsel was swept off her feet, and whisked away by the charming prince. He grinned boyishly to himself. He was hardly a Prince Charming, though, and now he was definitely over-thinking the whole thing.
"Trouble?" he repeated as he paused to look around the corner of another shelf, then smiled back at her. "I could only hope it does, something to liven up the day," he added with a small wink.
There was a sound from somewhere behind them, and his eyes darted swiftly in the direction. He saw the back of a cloaked priest as he disappeared down in the opposite direction, but couldn't be quite sure whether or not he'd actually left the library or not. Still, for now the coast was clear, and the twin doors of the closed-off section were just a few small strides away.
There were no handles on them, though if he remembered they simply swung open when pressed against. Large, there were markings cast along the outer frame, that he couldn't entirely recognize. Hell, the answer to what they were was probably somewhere in there.
"Well then, shall we?" Giving Ayane a small nod, he let her hand go and quickly stepped over to the doors. Placing his now-freed hand against the smooth wood, he pressed against it, to which it began to open with more resistance than he remembered his smaller body having been able to manage. It was, indeed, opening though, and he took a forward step to press his way in when something sparked. He could feel it like a buzzing electricity, right beneath his other arm, where he held the old book on cursed runes.
Very suddenly the compendium was engulfed in flames, but clearly not just any normal fire. It didn't alight his clothing, yet beneath his shirt on the underside of his arm and the side of his ribs he could feel the seering. Jumping back, he stumbled over his own feet and to the floor, letting out a small, gutteral cry of pain and alarm, tossing the book from him as his other hand flew to his side which still felt as if it were sizzling. On the floor, the book remained aflame, its covers spread wide, its pages flipping wildly in the red-hot fire as the door beyond it creaked shut again. In the fire, the runes could be seen, sizzling above the pages, crackling into embers. He began to feel sick and dizzy just looking at it.
Reaching out his hand without giving it a single thought, he pressed a small yet strong burst of wind at the tome, sending it flying back against the door, upon which the fire immediately died, and the book thudded to the ground, seeming just as it was before the odd occurrence, though a touch more charred...