As the loud heavy bang of the wooden door shutting behind me was followed by the sound of chains wrapping around the door, and locks clicking back into place shut me into the restricted sections of the Mothlight Public Library, dim red lights flickered along the walls, bringing the room into a soft, barely visible light. 

The chambers stretched out far, farther than they had any right in comparison to where the door was in the library. Multiple chambers branched off from the main hallway, each leading to one, perhaps two ancient tomes each, all heavily protected with various magical seals and sigils. From top to bottom, the Dimlight Shelves were made of marble, almost as if it was polished into shape from one giant block, creating shear walls.

As I walked forward, my footsteps echoed impossibly far, and it was not long until I heard a slow approaching hiss, like hot iron in cool waters, as Hildr once described it. Soon, the area began to light up even more, as a lumbering figure approached me. 

It was a hulking creature made of clay, with cracks revealing flowing magma within, that sometimes released steam. When they reached me, they eyed me up and down with their five red hot coal eyes, and let out a high pitched whistle, “Hello Councilman DeWinter, how can I help you today?”

“Hey, Rufio!” I grin up at the Golem. Rufio was a rarity, as Golem’s had been illegal to create for almost four thousand years now, so over time the majority of the remaining ones fell apart to disrepair. Rufio guards Mothlights forbidden knowledge in exchange for maintenance. “I was wondering if you could point me towards the highest lexicon of imprisoned demons or devils?”

Rufio hummed in contemplation, letting out a huge train whistle of steam from their back. “I believe such texts are this way.” I followed as they lumbered off.

When we reached the chamber of the book, Rufio presented the entrance to me before wandering down the hall. I turned and made my way down, the heat of the room growing as I approached closer to the book. The grayish molted leather bound tome sat upon a black podium, wisps of red mist slowly flowing down the side, and surrounded by statues of four people in unending anguish, blood ever flowing from their eyes. This all sat upon a large seal written in most likely the blood of many innocent to prevent this dark knowledge from leaving the room.

Next to it was a wooden table with the sign in log, and a pen, which was connected to the table by a lil chain so you couldn’t take it. I placed my name and the time I entered, and approached the book.

The book made a pained moan as I opened it. Hope that isn’t for every page, did not like that. 

It happened with every page. 

Sighing, I quickly flipped towards the index, ignoring the moans as best I could and feeling relatively uncomfortable the entire time. When I finally matched the sigil Elvira gave me, it labeled the demon as Killgrov...aaaand he was at the end of the book. That was never a good thing in catalogs like this. It was usually a power ascending as the list descends sort of deal.

....also I’d need to listen to more moaning.

Steeling myself, I quickly flipped to the last entry, becoming very suspicious about whether or not this moaning was because the book was in pain or not, but pushed that thought very far away.

The entry was short, which was concerning, and had no known image of the demon, also concerning, and read as such;

Woe beith to all whomst dost seeith the rise of such horror as thy great Devourer, Destroyer, of thy existence. Forsooth if on darkest day, whencst sun doth give way to moon, and shadows dawn, doth thy greatest of all evils rise. And life doth fall.

That much old timey language was never a good thing. It also made it harder to understand. Why couldn’t ancient witches speak like normal people? However, one thing was clear, it was talking about an eclipse. And there was one tomorrow.

Quickly jotting down notes, and making sure I put my exit time on the ledger, I darted off to tell Elvira.