The building was vast, but in ruins. Tall bookshelves could be seen lining the walls, but many of them had either collapsed or were leaning at strange angles.
Adam approached one such bookshelf and retrieved a book from it. But the moment his fingers brushed against the cover, it crumbled away.
"Of course," he muttered under his breath, exasperated. "Who knows how many thousands of years these books have remained in that state?"
"No magical spells could last for that long," the white-robed Adam sighed. "And without the protection of magic, the books were bound to be reduced to that state."
The few books that did remain, however, were little more than rotten bundles of parchments. Their pages had long since been eaten away by mold and insects.
"But not all is lost," said the white-robed Adam with a faint smile. He gestured to the far end of the first floor. "Take a look at that."
