The Eclipse Moons Grimoire: Lilith's Soft Whispers

Codex 0: Sequentia I: Fragmentum 0: Prologue: Reverie

In a bustling city, an 18-year-old boy awoke in the small dormitory of the orphanage. The early sunlight slipped through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow on the worn-out furniture and faded walls. This was his familiar space, though it rarely felt like home. Each morning, his routine unfolded the same way: a quick stretch, a brisk jog through the awakening streets, and a return to the orphanage where the simple smell of breakfast wafted through the communal dining area. But the other kids eyed him with something less than kindness. Their laughter, casual and echoing, held a hint of contempt that never went unnoticed. The caretakers' indifferent gazes and the orphaned children's quiet ridicule lingered behind him like shadows.

Once breakfast was over, he navigated the busy streets on his way to college, weaving between towering skyscrapers and the relentless pulse of the city's traffic. Yet the judgment followed him there too. At college, where he thought he could escape the orphanage's shadows, he found himself surrounded by students who looked at him with eyes that seemed to cut right through him. Some eyed him with open superiority, as if they saw him as an outsider in their world. Others shot him sidelong glances filled with contempt, muttering to each other as he passed. Even in laughter, their smiles were twisted with something unkind. And then, amid the sidelong glances and disapproving stares, there was one girl who looked at him with something different—guilt that flickered in her eyes.

Each day, after his college, before he returned to the orphanage, concealing the weariness that lay underneath with a small smile on his face, he makes his way to the serene monastery nestled atop a small hill.

The monastery, run by compassionate monks, offered a sanctuary of peace. Surrounded by lush greenery, the monastery stood as a haven from the chaotic city below. With a determined stride, he climbed the hill, leaving the noise of the city behind.

As he entered the monastery gates, a profound calm washed over him. The monastery courtyard, adorned with vibrant flowers and ancient stones, became his refuge. With a broom in hand, he undertook the daily ritual of cleaning the sacred grounds.

In the tranquil silence, he swept away the dust, symbolically cleansing his own spirit. The monks, recognizing his dedication, welcomed him with nods of gratitude.

After he finished cleaning the monastery, he walked to the edge of the hill. There, on a cozy bench, he had a perfect view of the sunset. The air was calm, and the city below started to slow down.

Sitting on the bench, he felt a gentle breeze on his face. The sky turned into a painting of warm colors—orange, pink, and a hint of purple. The buildings in the city seemed to stop their rush for a moment, joining the silent admiration of the setting sun. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the city lights began to twinkle.

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While he enjoyed the serene view from the bench, a monk quietly approached and sat beside him. The boy was taken aback, for this monk was no ordinary one—he was the most esteemed monk of the monastery. Throughout all the years he had spent here, he rarely witnessed this monk speaking or initiating conversations with others, let alone himself.

In the presence of the revered monk, a sense of awe and curiosity enveloped him. He had seen this monk engaged in silent contemplation and dedicated rituals within the monastery, but personal interactions were scarce.

As they sat side by side, the monk's tranquil presence spoke volumes. Without uttering a word, he conveyed a silent understanding, as if the sunset, the monastery, and the bench were all part of an unspoken connection.

The monk, breaking his usual silence, began to speak, "I have watched you for many years. You are not at an age where normal people would come to a monastery to find peace. Why are you here?"