It was just another ordinary day at St. Marlowe Orphanage. December 21st.
The halls were quiet… until a small, sharp cry pierced the silence. Jonathan. That was his name, stitched onto the blanket he had been left in. No one here had given it to him, and he never knew his parents.
He grew up surrounded by the echoing walls of the orphanage, yet never quite feeling at home. Friends were hard to come by—Jonathan preferred the quiet corners of the hallways, where the only sounds were the footsteps of nuns and the occasional whisper of other children.
Then he discovered the library.
He was eight the first time he wandered into its hall. The shelves stretched tall above him, brimming with worlds he could escape into. The scent of old paper and polished wood seemed to wrap around him like a warm blanket.
He ran his fingers along the rows of books, imagining himself traveling to the faraway lands hidden within each book. A pirate ship! A towering castle! A forest where the trees could talk!
"Expelliarmus!" he muttered under his breath, pointing his finger at a stack of books that teetered dangerously. "And… Expecto Patronum!" A wave of imaginary magic seemed to sweep the dust motes away.
A loud thump made him jump. One of the books had fallen.
"Maybe… magic needs more practice," he whispered, pouting at top of the desk.
Just then, a nun arrived and scolded him. "Ugh! Jonathan! Be careful, or you'll fall off the desk one of these days. Why don't you play with the other children for once?!"
Whispering to herself as she slowly walked away, she muttered, "This kid… really gives me a headache."
Jonathan looked up at her and blinked. He quietly nodded, but the moment her back was turned, he carefully climbed down and went to his favorite corner with another book. Flipping it open with wide eyes, he whispered to himself, "Finally… adventure awaits!"
Sometimes he would sit cross-legged on the floor, a book open on his lap, muttering lines out loud to see if he could "cast" them for real. His characters became friends, their adventures became his own, and the quiet corners of the library became a home more real than any room he'd slept in.
Couples came to adopt children, smiles on their faces, hope in their hearts—but never for Jonathan. He was always too absorbed in the library, too lost in the rustle of pages, too shy to speak. So he quietly grew up, day by day, book by book.
Then came his eighteenth birthday. A nun handed him a small bundle. "Jonathan," she said softly, "this is everything you were found with. I know how much you love books… maybe your parents did too. I hope this gift helps you find what you're looking for in life."
He carefully untied the bundle. Inside was a book, a blanket, and a letter—the first time he had ever held them. His fingers trembled as he touched the worn cover, traced the stitched letters, and unfolded the fragile paper. A faint smile appeared on his lips, tinged with sadness and hope.
"Thank you," he whispered.
And for the first time, he felt the stirrings of a dream bigger than the orphanage walls.
"PRESENT"
Jonathan woke up, the remnants of a dream still clinging to his mind. Memories of the orphanage washed over him—long-forgotten corridors, the quiet of the library, the faces of children he barely knew.
Then, unexpectedly, he thought of the nun who had always watched over him. He had always told himself he had no one to guide him, yet now it struck him that she had been like a mother.
"I wonder if Madam is still alive…" he whispered. A thought that had never crossed his mind before.
As he got ready to leave and unpack his things at the company, his eyes fell on a book his mother had left behind, tucked away on a shelf at home. For the first time since his eighteenth birthday, he sank onto the sofa and opened it.
It was a work by the renowned author Glarus H. As he read, the story felt… strangely familiar. Life, choices, love, the reasons parents make impossible decisions—all reflected in the pages. Tears slipped down his cheeks before he realized it. He hastily wiped them away.
"Why… am I crying?" His voice trembled slightly. Sadness, yes, but also a sense of release. Somehow, reading these words helped him let go of the past.
Afterward, he went to the company and unpacked his things. He never saw the director again, but it didn't matter. He felt lighter. Freer. Tomorrow, he would finally do what he had always dreamed of—buy the library.
Back home, his heart buzzed with anticipation. He moved around carefully, preparing, fixing everything in place, ready for the next day. A new chapter of his life was about to begin.
However, he didn't know that news of volcanic eruptions in various countries would soon begin to shape a journey he could never have imagined.
Meanwhile, in a different library—or perhaps, another dimension entirely—something stirred.
"A SUITABLE SOUL IS DETECTED. INITIATING ETERNAL LIBRARY," a voice echoed from a stone tablet, its letters glowing faintly in the dim, empty space.
The tablet chimed again. "DETECTED COMPANION. INITIATING TRANSFER."
A black cat sat silently among the shelves. Its fur shimmered faintly under the soft, mystical light, and its emerald-green eyes reflected the glow of the tablet. The library was empty, but the cat's gaze was sharp, alert, and almost… knowing.
The stage was set. A new story was quietly beginning, far removed from Jonathan's world—yet connected in ways no one could yet foresee.
N