The Library

Drive to the coast and beneath the mountain you’ll find a beautiful white sandy beach. You’ll know it’s the right one if you find caves to its eastern edge, and a railway tunnel that’s no longer in use. Look up from these rocks and you should see it. On a precipice, a peculiar round building with a domed roof looks out over the sea.

This building is a library once owned by a rich bishop. His nearby estate lies in ruins, burned by heretics. Yet the library remains untouched, intact, mysteriously under lock and key. No one may enter unless the library wills it; some say it has a consciousness of its own.

It is said that if you visit the library on the day of your birth, then it will open to you and you alone. Inside the books that define your life will show themselves to you. You will find precious books on your passions, others will reflect your past, you may even find those that suggest your future. The only trouble is, will you recognise them for what they are? You may not take the books with you, and the time allotted is limited. The doors swing on their hinges and will close for good at sundown. Will you learn what you heart desires in time?

I have heard tales of those who have tarried too long, got lost in their reading, didn’t heed the failing light. Some say their footsteps are heard inside the library at night, dim candle lights have been seen passing behind its stained glass windows. It is said that these are the souls who keep its doors closed. It is said that the library longs for a librarian.

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