Library

A rhythmic thud ricocheted through the vast corridor, each thud on the stone floor announcing the presence of a walker. He was toting a clothbound book with a stamped and gilded pattern. The book, called Floriography, was a floral encyclopedia that was widely available in bookstores and libraries.

He strolled along the cold marble floor, feeling like a lone traveler in a dark valley. He surrounded himself with walls of large gray bricks, rough and uneven. The dreary atmosphere stifled his thoughts. The few gas lamps on the wall guided him to his destination like distant stars in the dark.

Along the way, Cassius encountered statues of important figures in the Academy's history. These were the noble souls who had forged the Academy's glorious legacy for nearly five centuries.

The great generals who had driven their armies to victory. The illustrious adventurers who had conquered the unknown lands. The names that echoed through history, never to be forgotten, seemingly watching over him with their soulless eyes.

The Arcanan Library was one of the three libraries of the Academy, along with the Lauryn and Oleta Libraries. This building was a bygone watchtower that had been transformed into a sacred place of knowledge and enlightenment. Unlike the dank corridor he had just crossed, this place had been refurbished for the preservation and display of books. As for that, it was brighter and more welcoming than what lay beyond.

Cassius halted at a large archway and caught the scent of books and dust. He perceived the splendid and tranquil silence, mingled with the scent of paper and leather, both rotten and old, which, combined with the dignified appearance, evoked a feeling of reverence for the inner space.

The library had four levels, each with a different function and theme. Bookshelves lined the walls, following the circular shape of the tower. In between, stained glass windows cast colorful beams of light onto the floor and walls, bringing different books into prominence.

A young man, ostensibly younger than Cassius, stood at the librarian's desk. "Hey there, young man," he called out cheerfully and quietly. What book would you like to borrow today?"

"Don't be the surgery thing last time. You don't know how long I struggled with your request." He whimpered.

"I'm here to return the book this time."

With that, he placed the clothbound book in front of the librarian's desk. At the same time, he discreetly caught a glimpse of the person's name tag: "Ethan".

"Okay, give me your badge."

"Well, I don't want to make it difficult for you, but we have to follow procedure."

Ethan looked at the badge, which was a first and last name with a family symbol next to it, indicating an aristocratic background.

"Cassius Alphaeus Evanesco, you are a law student, aren't you?" The man said justly.

"Wait a second." He turned around and took a quick look at the document he had just put under the drawer. He grabbed a folder from the pile on his desk and scanned it.

"'The beginning of the month! he exclaimed. 'Oh!'" As his hand quickly scrolled through the list, Ethan matched each month of the year with a line from the flyer. He recited cheerfully:

"Agathoth brings the first good news.

Berthada shines with a bright light.

Briseus shattered the silence with war.

Auxanos, a month of growth and a new life."

"Huh. Why are the 4th and 3rd months so opposite?" He reached for the Auxanos catalog and turned it over.

He said this as he turned over the records of each person's borrowing history and compared them to the information written on the paper while using a red ink pen to cross out the borrower's name on the record.

When he was done, he turned and said to Cassius familiarly, "Welcome to the Sanctuary of Knowledge. Our ten commandments are glued to that board over there. Write them down in your mind."

"If there's anything you need help with, come to me out here. The library is a sacred place; we can't talk there."

The librarian spoke eloquently and without shyness, like a fervent missionary. "Pray to the books. Maybe you will find your destiny."

In the end, Cassius, in spite of his many sufferings, did not stop himself from asking again, "Have you done this to other people?

"No, just for you."

"If you don't ask for strange things, we can talk normally next time." The librarian said.

"Praise the book."

With a nod, Cassius stepped further into the library, as if crossing a hidden threshold. He felt the man's eyes on him, searing with curiosity. Why was he so interested in him when he barely knew he existed? He didn't need his help to choose a book today. He had no idea what he was looking for. He hoped to find some clues about the strange illnesses or supernatural events that haunted his mind. He wandered among the rows of books, searching for something mysterious. He was tired and restless.

....

Two young males stood side by side outside a faintly lit cellar door. The man in front was standing close to the door, about to open it, but he turned and spoke quietly to the young man behind him.

"Only flesh and bone, not their soul." He turned his head to answer, and with a click following the muted tones, the man entered the room in the usual way.

Althur slowly entered the room. His senses began to actively stir to take in the information of his surroundings. He saw the damp and cramped room as worse than James' bedroom, but in a different way. Metal shelves and laboratory equipment were scattered in every corner of the cellar.

The humidity and rot in the air suffocated the senses like a crowded train in a dying way. The horrible stench of rotting flesh, putrefaction gas, and festering wounds was palpable. The only warm and holy light came from the candle at the altar at the far end of the cellar.

With a pallid face, Peter moved across the room, igniting the wicks of the candles that had once burned brightly. The melted wax had spilled over the edges of the thin metal holders, forming irregular shapes and patterns and dripping like water.

As the flickering light chased away the shadows, they saw the outlines of the bodies that lay under the white cloths. They were still and silent, patiently lying on the iron beds as if waiting for him to uncover their secrets.

"Here you go, sir." Peter lifted the white sheet from the corpse of a middle-aged man and folded it neatly.

"Doesn't it chill you?" Althur followed him, inquiring. He saw that Peter avoided looking at the dead man's face. "Most people would run from this place. "It is only my duty, sir." Peter's tone was flat.

"Really? You don't feel anything when you see them?" Althur persisted, his interest piqued. "Not even a hint of curiosity or familiarity?"

"No sir." He replied stiffly.

Althur dropped the subject, his attention drawn to the body before him. A stocky man in his prime lay rigid and cold. His face was puffy and red from years of drinking, but his muscles were still firm and hard, a gift from Verhang that made them tough and fierce like warriors.

He looked peaceful in death, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted, as if he had left this world without any regrets. A simple and ordinary expression, nothing more. The power of the Force that he had wielded before had faded away. The man who had fought demons and enemies on the frontier had met his end here.

After calming down, he made a flicker, as if doing a magic trick, and pulled out a partially burned candle.

"Please light this for me." He asked the young man who stood silently next to him.