The front hall served as the study for every learned scholar. They would meditate and record their insights on magic, passing them down to the next scholar in hopes that one day someone would gather all the wisdom and cross that final threshold.
Rowena poked her head inside, and the smell immediately made her wrinkle her nose.
It was the stench of rotting food, wafting steadily from the scholar's desk. She could vaguely see a plate with a pumpkin pie on it.
She covered her nose in disgust, a sense of foreboding instantly rising in her heart.
The current scholar, though elderly, was not a messy person. The last time they met, she was in high spirits and would never leave a pumpkin pie to rot.
Rowena recalled what the magicians had said.
The scholar had been in seclusion for some time now.
"Something seems to have happened."
Rowena said.
She barged into the room first, bypassing the front hall and heading straight to the back hall used for meditation and reflection.
