The mahogany doors swiftly swung to the sides as Mel pushed through. As the doors swung open, they came to an abrupt stop before they slammed into the walls as if a supernatural force prevented them from striking the walls. Mel smirked as she looked into the expansive library before her. "This will knock his socks off." The libraries were one of the prides of The Temple, boasting boundless knowledge gifted from Judex Divinum.

The Temple stored every bit of their knowledge in books they copied and delivered to each city protected by their soldiers. Each library served as a vault for knowledge, providing crucial information for the untrained when they arrived to serve their lord. The libraries were installed with the engraved pillars infused with mana to rebuild if ever destroyed. However, another line of defense was made, with each book painstakingly enchanted to reform upon any damage, leaving each page pristine as if they were freshly printed.

Their library was the size of the training hall, boasting four stone walls that stood six stories high. Stretching underneath their feet was a black marble floor meticulously cut and divided to allow gold to be molded between the segments. Mel could only assume the creator was Hephestine's daughter, who created the symbol of Judex Divinum with gold and marble, flawlessly creating the hollow triangle with seven swords piercing its side to sit around the crown.

Mel always thought it was a shame they covered the image created by the gold, but seating was needed. On top of the floor were two large dark mahogany tables that stretched alongside each other from the door to the other side of the library, seating hundreds while providing enough room to rest several books without impeding on another.

To Mel's sides were walls with ten deep coves and dark mahogany bookshelves lining three sides, leaving one open as the entrance. However, in the center of each cove were two large shelves filling the center, leaving no space wasted to store and present their valuables, ready for the wise to seek their knowledge. Massive stone pillars stretch to the ceiling, dividing the coves and supporting the arched roof, from which several candle-lit chandeliers hang.

Although the twenty coves on the base floor were enough to store thousands of books, they were not enough to store even a quarter of their collection. Instead, they created floors on top of every cove, dividing them into six layers, all of which housed twenty more sections. Connected to the pillars on the higher floors along the walkways were black metal guard rails molded into the image of an angel with wings spread out to protect those from falling to their demise.

Mel tried to hate this library because of her sister's insistence on constant learning to improve her skills as a Paladin. However, whenever she visited, her resentment for her sister disappeared as if Sephira were in the room, relieving her heart and soothing the fire that blazed when she was enraged. The Archangel of healing and mercy had mana that soothed Judex Divnum's children like a mother comforting their hurt child.

"Maybe whoever enchanted the books was a child of Sephira." She thought as she stared at the colorful book covers that decorated the shelves. Whoever created the books loved bright, vivid colors and earthy tones, mixing bright colors with muted versions to provide a display that was pleasant to the eye. Brown, yellow, cyan, red, blue, green, magenta, pink, crimson, purple, name a color, and it was on a shelf.

"You know, usually I'd hate places like this because they feel stuffy and outdated. However, whenever I come here, I feel like I can think properly. It's warm and cozy..."

Mel looked around for any priests lingering but found no soul inside. The room was left empty.

"I think Mary already closed the room so you could go in without anyone seeing you. So, Asura, what do you think? Pretty impressive, right? Asura?"

Mel furrowed her brows and frowned as Asura stared off to the other side of the room.

"Oh, guess you're already excited, huh?"

She followed his gaze across the tables to the other side, where a massive stone was embedded into the library wall. The gray stone towered up to the third floor and was as wide as the entrance doors. Carved into the stone was an image of Hephestine, the Archangel of craftsmanship and knowledge.

The massive armored angel stood with its six wings outstretched across the stone as she stood above a mighty anvil before her. Her six wings were thoughtfully carved with hundreds of intricately feather layers, each meticulously sculpted into the stone.

Surrounding the anvil were the flames of heaven, providing the heat to forge her creations. She braced herself with her right hand, gripping the edge of the anvil, and lifted her forging hammer high above her head with her left hand. Her hammer blazed and produced rays of light that spread over the stone canvas over her wings as if the hammer were the sun itself.

On the hammer's side, the words, Through heaven's flame, I forge these blades for man. This molten metal shall forever remember the taste of righteousness and justice. Let it be a light that guides them when they are weak against the darkness they face. For you are their strength, Lord Judex Divinum.

No one could read those words at this distance, but Mel studied the piece of art for hours. At this point, she knew them by heart. Every time she visited, she often found herself lost in the details carved into the stone, spending hours studying the grooves and lines.

When Mel first visited, she desired to find an imperfection, something to convince her its creator was human. After countless days of staring at the piece, finding no flaw in its design, she concluded that Hephestine herself had created it—a true masterpiece that left those who gazed upon it in awe.

"They say if you study the detail for long enough, it will make you wiser like the wisdom of the creator will rub off on you. I thought it was a silly story as a child, but as an adult, I figure it could be enchanted."

Mel turned, expecting to wake Asura from his trance and get a response from the ogre. However, she watched as he walked forward without a word.

"Hey? Asura? Earth to Asura? Are you okay?"

Asura stared with frozen eyes at the stone, oblivious to the outside world. The beauty of the library faded into the background, and he found himself captivated by the image of the stone and what lay behind it. Initially, Asura heard nothing, but as his feet moved on their own, a sound of crashing lightning filled his ears. Gradually, he realized it was the sound of a hammer striking an anvil.

The metallic clashes resembled a beating heart, leaving the impression the stone was alive and breathing. The thumps grew louder with every step he took. His body shivered with every step. Asura's blood turned cold as fear washed over his skin, covering him in goosebumps.

His mind screamed for him to stop, to turn back and flee from the stone's presence. However, his body resisted his commands as if another controlled it, marching onward to the echoing rhythmic beat that guided him. Without realizing it, Asura found himself in front of the stone in an instant, as if the door was always there and the walk towards it was just his imagination.

The ogre's hands pressed against the stone's cold surface, feeling the sculpted surface's detail underneath his fingertips. The booming heartbeat ceased, leaving an eerie sensation of emptiness inside the ogre. He didn't know what was worse, the emptiness or the booming strikes that rattled his mind, both gnawed at his sanity.

Asura whispered to himself, afraid of his words as they escaped his lips.

"It's a door."

Asura couldn't believe his heart was gripped by fear when facing such an object. He had faced an Apocalypse, Jormungandr, The World Ender, and The Great Serpent and felt nothing when fighting such a foe.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Yet, he felt powerless before Hephestine's forge. A teaching from long ago came to the front of his mind as he ran his fingers along the door. "When bathed in the fire of Hephestine, the sins of the past arise before the light. To be forged anew, one must have their impurities forgiven by Judex and by themselves. Hold not onto what sins you committed in the past, and do not cherish it in your heart. Do not return to your vomit and consume it, but remember it to sculpt what you do in the future. Be born again in the flames of The Father, seek his light, and you will find your strength."

Asura tried to recoil from the door as the thought entered his mind. He furrowed his brows and closed his eyes as his mind burned from the teaching forcefully shoved into it. It felt as if his brain were branded by an iron, leaving the words vividly in his mind. The ogre was never taught such a thing, but it felt as if the knowledge was always inside, like a memory that wasn't his own being present in his thoughts.

As the pain subsided, he found himself breathing heavily, and sweat covered his skin. Although he tried several times to pull away, his fingers remained against the stone. "If it doesn't move, I'm leaving." He thought as his mind raced. His fingers lightly pressed against the stone, exerting less force than needed to crack an egg.

A final heartbeat of the hammer striking the anvil boomed from behind the doors, shaking the room from the thunderous blow. The doors opened, and a wave of intense heat shot out as if released from its confines within the forge. Asura expected a bright light to emerge but found darkness behind the doors.

From inside, the void crept out, enveloping the room in utter darkness that left Asura unable to see. For the first time in his life, Asura found himself standing in the darkness that he couldn't perceive—a sensation that nocturnal creatures never experienced. The ogre tried to look for the door, but as he turned, he found nothing.

He turned again. Nothing. Asura spun frantically, searching for a way out, yet there was no scent to pursue, no light to follow, only the empty darkness surrounding him. Then, the darkness vanished.

A light appeared, revealing a disorganized room he vaguely remembered. Disoriented and shaken, Asura looked at his surroundings, trying to anchor himself in reality. Around the ogre stood four smooth red stone walls and a smooth ceiling above. Behind him was a doorway with leather hanging down from the top and two metal hooks on the sides. At the bottom of the leather was a metal rod.

The sight was nostalgic for Asura as he stared at the rod, knowing exactly how to use it. The ogre kingdom used the leather tarps as doors, rolling them up with the cylinder and hooking them to the top of the doorframe when not needed. It provided great insulation on the cold nights, keeping any heat from escaping out into the expansive cold caves they lived in.

Their windows operated similarly. They used smaller tarps and hooks for the small boxes they carved into the stone. Two windows were on every wall, allowing airflow when the leather was wrapped. When seasonal shifts came, and magma rose from the core, the cold nights became sweltering heat waves that consumed the caves in unbearable temperatures. Some ventured to the surface, while others made do with the windows.

"Remember old times?"

A disgruntled voice spoke before Asura, startling him as he believed he was alone. He turned back, finding a large wooden table with tools spread overtop and a large humanoid creature hunched over as it sat on a small stool.

The figure seemed to be fiddling with something Asura couldn't see over its large muscular body. Its skin was exposed as it only wore leather pants, revealing its muted red mixed with ashy grey skin, making it impossible for Asura not to recognize its race. A horn protruded from the top of its head as the figure's head rose. However, the figure never turned to reveal its face, but he knew. It was a cyclops... and he knew this room, a room he often visited. He whispered,

"Brontes."

Asura froze as Brontes shifted, expecting him to turn around. He wasn't ready to face his dead friend. His heart raced, and his eyes flicked all over his brother's body, studying the dead that was now living before him.

"Yes. That's me."

Brontes rested his hand against the table, causing a massive thump as his large fist strained the wood. The wood creaked as the force was applied, and Asura hesitated. "Is he angry?" He tried to open his mouth to speak, but Brontes's words left first.

"Why come back?"

"What?"

"You reason we died."

"What are you talking about?"

Asura tried to take a step forward, but his foot never moved. The distance between the two was only about five feet, but it felt like miles at the moment. He wanted to reach out and touch his brother, whom he longed to hug, but he froze as Brontes continued. Brontes's voice transitioned into a deep, angry tone as he spoke.

"You abandoned all us. Left them for dead."

"I never-"

Brontes turned, revealing the front of his face and chest as he whipped his body to stop Asura from speaking. Asura recoiled, and his skin wanted to crawl off his muscles as he stared at his brother before him.

The front of Brontes's face was decayed, revealing bone, rotting muscle, and flesh that was being eaten alive by maggots and insects. The decay traveled down his side, to his upper right chest and front of his arm, leaving his bicep muscle exposed and ribcage barely holding his organs inside his chest. Blood poured from the open wound over his skin onto the floor beneath his stool, pooling into a puddle Asura hadn't noticed before.

The stench of rotting meat and metal created a tidal wave of nausea that slammed into Asura, sending his head swirling. His stomach knotted into a ball, and he fought back the urge to vomit as he stared into the half-eaten eye of his brother.

"You kill us all. Abandon us and hide away. You reason we all die. Once loyal to the king, then left for good."

"Brontes-"

"YOU REASON WE DIE! ASURA! I DIE BECAUSE OF YOU! ULLRAC DIE BECAUSE OF YOU! TAUG DIE BECAUSE OF YOU! WE FOLLOW YOU TO WAR CAUSE BROTHERS!"

Brontes screamed with anger, rage boiling inside his lungs as he let out his frustrations.

"YOU LEFT AND HIDE AND LEAVE EVERYONE TO DIE! WHERE YOU GO? YOU SUPPOSED TO BE WARRIOR BROTHER! PROTECTOR OF OUR PEOPLE! ALL ARE DEAD! OUR KING KILL EVERYONE!"

The Cyclops gripped his head. Tears welled in his eye. Asura whispered,

"I don't remember any of this Brontes. I barely remember you..."

"He killed us all. You are traitor to ogres... We follow you to war and die. Then, you leave ogres to die at the King's hand after."

Brontes grabbed hold of an old brown metal knife Asura recognized as the first weapon the cyclops forged for him.

"I forged weapons for you. Now I am, murderer... I caused slaughterings..."

He set down the weapon and gently grasped a wooden horse he had carved from wood.

"I wanted to make toys... furniture and tools. Make life easy for us..."

Asura hung his head, trying to remember the past but finding no memories of what Brontes spoke of. His heart ached as he felt the pain of his brother through his voice. He only yearned for an easy life, one he would never get to enjoy.

"I'm sorry... I know you aren't real, but I'm sorry... I don't remember the past, but I'm starting to. This is all Hephestine's forge."

Brontes looked up as Asura did, both meeting each other's eyes. In Brontes's eye, resentment boiled as he stared at his brother with hatred, while Asura looked at him with regret and sadness.

"This may not be real. I may not be real. Does not make my words any less real. Our blood on you."

Brontes turned back to the table, and the room shifted. The walls caved, and the roof cracked as thousands of bloody hands tore their way through the rock. Asura's eyes widened as they clawed out, grasping at anything they could grab hold of. Bronte's body was the first to be grasped, and they tore at his flesh with ease, pulling his body into the wall of flesh that surrounded him.

Asura tried to scream out and save his brother, but his body still remained petrified. The bloody hands were not satisfied after consuming the cyclops, trying to find more victims as they reached out. Asura frantically looked around as the hands reached out to grab hold of him. Without thought, he turned around and took a step toward the doorway.

Before he could exit, he stopped as the feeling of wetness spread across his four arms and hands. He looked down, finding them to be coated in thick layers of crimson blood that dripped onto the floor at his feet. The supernatural liquid never ceased, instead pouring into rivers that filled the room, causing it to rise to his knees. Asura looked up, finding himself staring out of the stone doors and back into the library.

The ogre took another step forward, almost reaching the edge of the room. However, a faint heartbeat caused him to hesitate, and a voice called out from behind. Its heavenly sound comforted his frantically beating heart. Hephestine had spoken.

"Do not leave. Turn back. Forgive yourself, just as Judex Divinum already has. Your sins are washed, yet you suffer so much because you cannot forgive. The debt has been paid, child. Face thy sin, head to the light. I will give you what you seek."

Asura looked out into the library with tired eyes, his emotions finally taking their toll.

"What debt? What have I done?.."

Asura threw his hands up as if giving up. His broken voice let out defeated words.

"I have fragments of memories that I barely even believe are my own. It's like having a few pages of a book inside my fucked up head. I try to remember, and I get my ass whooped from headaches. It's like hot iron rods jabbing into my skull."

Asura looked back down at the ground, watching as the swirling liquid pooled at the entrance, unable to leave the room and taint the perfect marble floor outside. Bronte's words about being a murderer because of his creations echoed in Asura's ears.

"If it's a weapon... I don't need it. I've killed shit without it."

With one final look back, he watched as the writhing hands retreated as he took the final step out of the forge. The massive stone doors swung shut, perfectly sealing the entrance to the forge once more. Asura softly spoke his final goodbye to the Archangel, asking.

"How can I forgive myself for something I can't remember?"