The room was much smaller than the other two, but it was still about ten meters from the entrance to the end of it all. There were two walls of shelves, each wall having three shelves, and each shelf having a line of Soul Lamps, some of which had already flickered out of existence, and some of which were still flickering with life.
Theron scanned them all, but there were no names attached to them. However, his eyes eventually landed on one that was still radiating the faintest trace of an aura despite already having flickered out. This one must have only flamed out recently, and it carried a familiar aura…
Patriarch Nightingale. He was sure.
'Does this mean they won't know he's dead?'
Theron frowned.
He didn't like things he didn't understand. The fact that these Soul Lamps were here instead of being constantly monitored by some janitorial elder didn't make sense. What was the use of a Soul Lamp if it couldn't tell you about the life and death of a person immediately?
