The gas lamps that dotted the campus lit up the night at Isandros Academy. They cast a warm and steady glow over the buildings and walkways, contrasting with the dark and silent surroundings.
The castle's walls were bathed in a gentle light, but it could not erase the deep scars that marked the citadel. They were like badges of honor, testifying to the fierce battles that shaped its history.
In a room in the spacious dormitory area, a lone figure leaned over a table, absorbed in his work.
A gas lamp attached to the wall shed light on the table, revealing the items and objects he was using. There was a calendar with Agathoth on the front, showing the date and the phases of the moon.
There was a desk set box with a wax opener, still new and shiny except for the corners of the letter rack that were slightly worn. There were ink bottles and pens, neatly arranged on a tray. They looked simple but elegant, reflecting the taste and status of their owner.
He flipped through a book that stood out from the others on the shelf in the corner of the room. The shelves were filled with solemn books with leather covers and gold lettering, containing the ultimate laws of the world. But the book on the desk, old and worn, held its secrets—a mystery.
Cassius remembered wandering through the library without purpose or direction.
Cassius gazed at a bookshelf he had visited before. It held precious books on human anatomy by a mysterious author who secretly dissected corpses. He saw vivid drawings of muscle fibers, artery networks, and blood flow.
They taught him valuable lessons about how humans are weak and frail. He glanced at his wrist, where the faint light pierced his pale skin, exposing the lifeless blue veins, as delicate as dewdrops.
For a moment, he had somehow ended up on the fourth floor, a place he rarely visited, either because there was nothing of interest there or because it was too messy and chaotic for his liking.
But by chance, he thought, he had discovered an old book that attracted him. He spotted a book that was out of place at the back of the bookstore in this old library building.
It seemed to have been handled recently. The title was written in an ancient language that few could understand, not even he. The title of the book was "The Extraordinary Mystery.
"Praise the book," the librarian had said as he handed him the book.
"What chaos have you brought this time? I don't even know what this thing is, let alone how to check it," Ethan had whined.
"But you're in luck. I'm a seasoned librarian. Just wait and see."
Cassius watched as Ethan quickly made a new card and placed it inside the book's cover. He also added a new entry to the catalog so that future borrowers could find this worn-out tome. He scribbled down Cassius's details and let him take the book without knowing how it was categorized.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
He gave him a month to return it, the longest the library allowed. Perhaps he had glanced at the book and realized it was about history, myth, or fantasy.
Cassius didn't mind. He never liked to speculate on what other people were thinking. Cassius felt a pang of gratitude for the librarian's help, so he slipped him a few hints.
"You know we can't just praise random things, right?"
"Of course I know that, silly. But this is Frithestan, the Land of Freedom. We don't pray here in the morning and before meals."
Cassius just stood there, listening to the librarian's words. "Land of the Free, we will eventually face a choice between two fates: ashes or soil." He whispered to himself.
"By the way, I kept my mouth shut and opened it just for you." The librarian gave him a quick glance and a faint smile.
Cassius sensed that there was more to his story than he was willing to share. But he knew better than to pry too much into his affairs.
Under the light, he caressed the leather book covers, stained with a burgundy hue that had faded and frayed over time.
He opened the first pages. "To Those Who Have Lost Their Way." A line of handwriting shimmered in a mysterious ink, as bold as if it had been written recently, defying the ancient binding that wrapped it.
When the ancient texts were slowly translated, the contents of the pages began to appear.
"I wonder when the Sun set in the Far West before the dragons took to the skies. What secrets does this stone of such legend hide?"
"And why is the sun rising from the east now? Is it because we have a new Sun, a god who claims to be the Sun and hangs in the vast sky, giving man and all things artificial light and deadly heat?"
"So what happened in that gap when a new sun was born? Where did the dragons flee to, and why do we never see or hear of them?"
Questions and question marks, strange stories the author had recorded in his book. They made Cassius question the legends and myths he had learned and read.
Cassius lifted his gaze. His eyes slowly filled with the faint rays of the gas lamp that filtered through the ornate oval glass frames. He looked at the darkness outside and remembered the myths of the sun.
He knew the wonders that the Dashte Temple preached—how once, when all things were covered in endless, dangerous darkness, creatures could only live deep underground for safety and warmth.
The Sun God, descending from Er, the World of the Gods, the Temple of the Creator, brought bright light and warmth.
He made the day so that creatures could live on the surface, and he also gave them the fire of courage to face the darkness.
He also defeated dragons and other evil gods and created the original Er land for man. Then he made the day. But the sun in the sky burned continuously for 100 days, scorching everything, so he made the night.
He invited the Moon goddess to rule the night, and together they took turns shining in the sky. The sunlight brings warmth and makes all things grow and flourish. The moon guides and illuminates the lost path, bringing hope of a new day until dawn.
Along with this, the Goddess Haya grants a bountiful harvest and eternal life to all. These are the legends shared by the orthodox sanctums of the Amerigo.
But right now, Dashte and Mahsa are in conflict. There have been many border conflicts, but there has never been a full-scale war because everyone had to watch out for the Dan Empire and the Grishia Kingdom on the other side.
As a law student, Cassius is politically sensitive, or is it because he is obligated to know such things?
Cassius worked diligently, writing line after line as the ink cartridge dwindled, scribbling and comparing on the sheets of paper.
He immersed himself in the mythical stories the book contained. It seemed like a book of stories or a collection of legends that the author had retold in a new way.
Everything was still uncertain. He remembered a time when he used to dream a lot. What flew across the high sky was what held the stars in place. It had been a long time since he felt the spark of wonder in his eyes.
He decided to continue working. He felt as if the author was whispering in his ear, asking one question after another, until he saw a special sentence, solemnly written in the book.
It was underlined in red ink, either by the author or by someone who had read it. He didn't care, but he knew what that sentence meant: "Mystic Syndrome".