The musty smell of old parchment filled the chamber air, along with the dust that rose from the well-nigh decomposed floorboards. Despite the subtlety behind each step, the wood creaked as if giving its death throes.

“Huh? Has this place always been here?” The girl asked herself, covering her mouth with the sleeves of her white robes.

Adjusting the circular glasses that rest upon her face, her eyes began to scan the labyrinth of book shelves that lined the dimly lit room. There were a plethora of works confined there, ranging from scrolls of ancient songs, poetry books, cursed grimoires, tomes of healing, and many more.

“Oh? What’s this one?” Reaching out, she pulled a single chronicle off of the shelf.

The record seemed so archaic that it may have deteriorated just at her touch, regardless, she swept her hand across the tanned leather that bound its pages, wiping away the cobwebs and filth.

Looking over her shoulder, the girl double checked if anyone had followed her before unlatching the book. Her eyes lit up with the reflection of the vivid art atop pages gilded with pure gold. “Well, I guess I should start.”