The library was silent, cloaked in the stillness of night. Only a few faint crystal lights hovered above, casting soft glows between the towering shelves. The usual murmur of students or civilians had long faded — they were the only ones left.
Charlotte sat beside Noel at a corner table, her eyes shining with excitement. A thick tome rested between them, its cover marked with worn lettering:
"Elarin the First: The One Who Touched Mana."
"This one's my favorite," she whispered, almost reverently. "It's where everything began."
Noel leaned forward, elbows on the table. His eyes scanned the title, unmoving. 'The One Who Touched Mana…'
Charlotte opened the book carefully. The aged pages let out a faint rustle as she turned them, revealing an illustration of a lone figure standing before a cave, bathed in radiant light.
