The corridor that Cohen was walking down felt endless and like they were walking in a circle, except for one thing: the only directions they could go were forwards and backwards. Any chance at shortcuts or escape were blocked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with books covering topics from creating fantasy worlds to history to what offerings certain deities prefer. The books had been hand-bound with brown and red suede and the titles were painted on with gold ink that glistened in the light from oil lamps mounted between the sections of books. Cohen remembered learning about when the school was newer, all the books in Alva Kapheira Library of Academic Excellence were hand-bound by the same family. The Verin family. The first Verin to be hired worked binding books for the school for 80 years before he passed away and his son took the torch, and for 400 years the eldest child would bind books for the library. There were paintings and plaques commemorating the family that sat in the back room of the library and put a cover on every single book the library received. The last time Alva Kapheira had a bookbinder was just over 300 years ago, when the last heir of the Verin lineage disappeared without a trace. Admiring the books, Cohen found one title that reminded him of his childhood. It was called The Swallow and their mother read it to them every night. It was a ghost story, but that didn’t bother Cohen. When their mother was ill, Cohen would obsessively read the entire book as a way to cope with boredom. They had memorised much of the book and could quote entire paragraphs which they would recite to their friends after school. He smiled, remembering all his childhood friends and the games they would play together. A particularly violent note from a violin brought Cohen back to reality, they were running out of time to get to the big room with the long table and- now that they realised it- two skulls repaired with the Japanese art of Kintsugi, filling cracks with gold and embracing the flaws.