When I closed the door to my room, a profound silence descended. The thick curtains blocked out the moonlight, leaving only the flickering flame of the candle on my desk to cast a dim glow. Shadows danced on the walls as if they were watching me.
I sat down at the table. My hands instinctively reached into my pocket. As I pulled out the parchment, even the texture of the paper sent shivers down my spine. Another person's life, another's pain and joy... now lay right there on the table before me.
I stared at it blankly for a while. I couldn't muster the courage to unfold it. The same question swirled relentlessly in my mind:
_Will I still be me after absorbing these memories?_
The candle flame suddenly flickered, as if someone had blown past it in the room. A chill ran down my spine. Maybe it was just my nerves. Or perhaps the parchment itself... calling to me.
"Stop being ridiculous," I whispered to myself. "This is just magic... just a tool."
But it didn't sound convincing.
