These snakes are getting a little too comfortable with me.

The athenaeum is somewhat clear now. Rats still infest the walls, filth dries in smears across the floor, debris lay in piles here and there, a strong stench lingers, and the snakes have migrated to the corners of the room.

To be honest, I am upset. My friend died, meanwhile these snakes seem to be prospering. I do not want to hold it against them; they, themselves, are not the cause of my friend’s death, whilst the serpent that is… imploded on itself.

Yet, an image nevertheless lurks in my mind, that of the red-eyed snake beast; its forked tongue grazing my cheek.

Did this creature have a hand in my friend’s death?

My eyes loom over the largest of the snakes. The one whose grip continues to plague me; paranoid, to the extent that I am unable to enter my bedsheets, day or night.

Although I hold negative thoughts towards this snake and the one beyond, the others are friendly enough. They enjoy slithering amongst the wreckage, betwixt my legs… as I search for reading materials.

I intend to practice my letters in secret; a way to perhaps impress the coral-eyed, pale girl.

She may find some use in me, and through this, allow me to accompany her, and that dark-eyed, pale boy, to the east.

Some of these books are rather archaic. They have not been used in ages. Dust, dirt, and grime stick to their covers.

A thought crossed my mind to hand these over, and therefore garner favor, but I considered otherwise.

Losing an advantage such as this is quite silly. Not only will I lose my reading materials, but I might also end up being deprived of, what I sense is, ancient knowledge, tucked away within these writings.

According to recent events, I have found myself noticeably lacking. Lacking in both knowledge and strength, in which I plan to fix.

Also, handing over these texts might trigger some undesired alarms among the Seniors. Not since I collected my friend from here, to deliver onto them for burial, have the Seniors attempted to enter this place. The serpents frighten them and they grow larger day by day.

This might as well be a lost cause for them.

They hold no power here; the essential power needed to dislodge these snakes; as I see now, the results of their failed attempts; a burnt entryway, tattered wraps, sparred shafts, smashed cases, and…. a couple of snakes with bulging bellies in oddly-humanoid shapes.

I do not want to become a part of their campaign.

The plan forward is to focus on the learnt word and curry favor with the doll-faced, salmon-haired, well-mannered, pale-skinned girl.

“Reading?” my angel utters, “Why read? There is no need... When you can hunt!”

…

This might take a while… my angel is of no use to me here.