**13 Years Later – Midnight, Inside Charles' Mansion…**
A small lantern sat on the desk, casting a soft glow over part of Charles' face. His hair had grown slightly gray, but his eyes were no longer cold. Sitting in a leather chair, wearing comfortable clothes, pen in hand, he was writing. A leather-bound journal lay open, filled with fatherly notes.
**Charles' Diary – Tonight's Entry:**
"Today marks exactly thirteen years since I took Misha in. I still remember the day I found her, crying inside that ruined house, clutched in her dying mother's arms… Now that little girl has become my everything.
I played with her, painted with her, baked her first cake. We celebrated when her first baby tooth fell out. She taught me how to smile again."
Charles paused for a moment, a faint smile crossing his face, then continued:
"I tried not to teach her the mistakes I made in life, only to help her understand them. To me, she's not just an adopted daughter… she's my daughter. With all my heart."
Just then, the door opened softly. Misha, a 13-year-old girl with blonde hair and emerald-green eyes, wearing pink pajamas and holding a teddy bear, stepped inside. In a small, sleepy voice she said:
"Papa… I can't sleep. Will you tell me a story?"
Charles smiled warmly. He stood up and gathered her into his arms.
"Of course, sweetheart. Come on, I've got a good story for you."
Misha's room was like a little fairy's world; soft pink walls, a ceiling painted with stars, clouds and the moon. Tiny dolls were everywhere. Charles tucked her into bed, lay beside her, stroked her hair, and began his story with a warm tone:
"Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a princess was locked in a tall tower…"
Charles' voice was calm and steady, like a warm embrace on a cold night.
When the story ended, Misha had drifted off to sleep. Charles rose to leave the room, but her quiet voice stopped him:
"Daddy… can you stay with me?"
Charles answered with a smile full of tenderness:
"Of course, darling. I'm always here…"
He lay down beside her. Misha hugged him and whispered softly:
"I love you, Daddy… as big as the sky…"
Charles kissed her cheek:
"I love you too, sweetheart. Always… as long as this heart beats, I'll be by your side."
---
**The Next Morning – Dining Hall of Charles' Mansion…**
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows. The large breakfast table, set with silverware and a white tablecloth, looked inviting. Misha cheerfully spread strawberry jam on her toast and ate her boiled egg with a laugh.
Charles sat across from her, cutting a piece of sausage, his eyes full of love.
"Misha, you've got Tarolic Literature today, right?"
Misha nodded eagerly:
"Yes! Tarolic Literature is so interesting, it's about human languages! And it tells us about their history and how to write literary stories."
Charles chuckled:
"When I was your age, Elven Literature was my favorite subject. Their language is like music; every word is a poem. If you get the chance, read the old Elvish books. They'll open your mind."
Anna's eyes sparkled.
"I promise I will, Papa."
Behind Charles, his loyal servant Sebastian quietly prepared drinks with his usual precision — silent but present, a part of this new, beautiful family.
The dark-colored carriage rolled gently over the dew-damp cobblestones, heading toward the inner courtyard of the Royal Academy. The morning sky was cloudy and smelled of rain. Misha, Charles' daughter, sat beside him. Her eyes were still sleepy but eager, like a student who, despite hardships, had found her rhythm in the rushing current of daily learning and adventure.
Three months had passed since the term began, and Anna had not only adapted to the Academy's atmosphere but had also made many friends. But Charles… his thoughts were elsewhere.
When the carriage stopped in front of the Academy's tall brick entrance, Misha smiled and said:
"Thanks for bringing me, Daddy. We've got a practical class today, so I'll probably be home late."
Lost in his heavy silence, Charles responded a moment later, forcing a smile:
"Alright, sweetheart, take care of yourself."
Misha hopped out and soon met two of her friends. They laughed, exchanged words, and headed toward the classroom building. Charles watched them through the window until they vanished from sight. He took a deep breath, ran his hand down his long black coat, and gripped his briefcase tighter. Then he walked slowly toward the main building.
His mind was troubled. Two nights earlier, the Academy's headmaster, Marcus, had sent him a message marked "Urgent and Important." The words immediately drove Charles' thoughts to the only thing that could be this dire: the Forbidden Book.
When he reached the headmaster's office, he paused for a moment, then knocked three times.
Marcus' tired voice called:
"Come in, Charles."
The door opened and Charles stepped inside. The room had the same heavy atmosphere as always — filled with the scent of old papers, half-dormant enchantments, and a hidden tension that hung in the air. Marcus sat behind his desk, lips pressed together, eyes weary.
"Thanks for coming. Please, sit."
Charles sat and said:
"So… it's about the book, isn't it?"
Marcus sighed, staring at the edge of the desk:
"The seal is breaking. Something inside is struggling to get out. We're pouring more and more energy into holding it every day, but it's no longer enough."
Charles frowned.
"What exactly happened?"
Marcus exhaled sharply:
"Last night a new crack appeared on the seal. Five guards who were near the book… lost their minds. One tried to throw himself out the window. Two others attacked their comrades. They're in quarantine now. Severe mental corruption."
Charles rose from his chair, stepping back, his voice trembling with restrained anger:
"You've been keeping it here for three months, even after the signs we saw… I told you from the first week the book should be removed from the Academy. This is not the place for it, Marcus."
Marcus ran a hand through his graying hair, his expression troubled:
"You don't understand… As dangerous as it is, this book is the key to knowledge that's been locked away for centuries. We can only read one page a month, but even those pages… Charles, they've given us information written nowhere else."
Charles snapped back:
"Knowledge that costs people's sanity isn't worth it. Even if the truth lies within that book, no end justifies such a tainted means. Especially when we're keeping children just floors above it! Misha, my daughter, the other kids… have you even considered what happens if the corruption reaches the upper levels?"
Marcus fell silent for a moment. His voice came out low but cold:
"There's no way to grow without danger. We either move forward… or die in ignorance."
Charles' tone was cutting:
"You're not advancing, Marcus. You're sinking. This isn't the path to wisdom… it's surrender. Surrender to temptation. That book isn't just forbidden — it's a book of greed. It's already corrupting your mind. Why can't you see it?"
He grabbed his briefcase and headed to the door. Before leaving, he turned back and said, his voice grave:
"I hope when you finally make your decision, there's still someone left to save."
He shut the door behind him.
Marcus sat for a while, staring. Outside, the sky had grown darker. A soft wind drifted through the half-open window. He murmured quietly:
"You don't understand… because you have something to lose."