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.

After crossing the dark and damp corridor, he entered the Arcanan Library. It was one of the three libraries of the Academy, along with the Lauryn and Oleta Libraries. This building had been transformed from a bygone watchtower into a sacred place of knowledge and enlightenment. The books were well-preserved and displayed here, creating a bright and inviting atmosphere.

Cassius halted at the large archway and breathed in the aroma of paper and leather, both ancient and decayed. The silence was splendid and tranquil, matching the dignified appearance of the inner space. He felt a surge of reverence as he was entering.

He looked into the inner tower, which was divided into four levels, each with its own theme and purpose. Shelves lined the walls, curving along the tower's arc. Stained glass windows adorned the sides, casting colourful rays that illuminated various tomes. A sacred place for prayer..

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."

After saying 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 story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“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.

Flipping over the records of each person's borrowing history and comparing them with the information on the paper, he said this and crossed out the borrower's name on the record with a red pen.

When he had finished, he turned and said to Cassius in a familiar way, “Welcome to the Sanctuary of Knowledge. Our Ten Commandments are taped to the board over there. Write them down in your memory.”

"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 thought. He had no idea. And he didn’t know 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. Tired and restless.

....

Outside the dim cellar door, two young males stood together. The front man, who was near the door, turned and spoke softly to the back man.

"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 followed Peter into the cellar and felt his senses awaken. He took in the musty smell, the dim light, and the cold air. He saw the metal shelves and laboratory equipment that cluttered every corner of the room. It was worse than James’ bedroom, but in a more sinister way.

At the far end of the cellar, there was an altar with a single candle. It was the only source of warm and sacred light in this dark and dismal place. A preservation ritual of the Haya Church.

With a pale face, Peter moved across the room and lit the other candles that had been placed on thin metal holders. They had once burned brightly, but now they were covered in melted wax, spilling over the edges and dripping like tears. As it flickered, shadows were dispelled, and it was possible to make out contours of corpses under white sheets. They were still and silent. They lay patiently on the iron beds, as if waiting for him to reveal 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 on the battlefield.

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.