As Lanci's surroundings began to lighten up again, his vision gradually focused.
He found himself sitting in the back row of a classroom extensive as a theater.
In the dimly lit space, the only sources of light were the faint shimmering emitted from several oil lamps hanging on the walls, gloomy, golden colors almost tangible to touch.
They kept flickering, like pulses of life, ensuring a certain visibility while add a mystic, dramatic flair to the place. Under the dim light, the shadows of tables and chairs distorted and elongated, mingling with some swaying dark figures, whispering in the silence.
Although what Lanci saw indeed resembled a classroom — rows of long tables covered with red tablecloths were neatly aligned, a brand-new dark gold blackboard towered on a distant stage at the front of the classroom, and the frames and carvings of the windows looked ancient and elegant.
