The steeple's base was paved with black stone bricks, and a colossal pillar rose proudly. Lumian felt like a visitor in a giant's kingdom as he strode through the expansive and dimly lit space. The occasional tall residents who effortlessly towered over him only heightened this impression.
Guided by the signs on the wall, he ascended to the third floor, revealing rows of imposing bookshelves.
The custodian of the library, an elderly man draped in a linen robe, oversaw the space.
Even seated, he matched Lumian's height, and his slightly gray skin bore the marks of age.
Engrossed in a goatskin-bound book, the library administrator paid no heed to Lumian's entrance, his gaze firmly fixed on the text.
Lumian, not rushing to seek permission for his exploration, entered the library and followed the guidelines posted on each row of bookshelves leading to the section housing mythical books.
