The Scream of A Thousand Libraries Chapter 31: Chapter 31: The Three Great Bonfires.

Read chapter 31 of The Scream of A Thousand Libraries by Susangja on NovelPedia.

POV: HELENA IVYRA. After the first Magical Foundations class, still with the complicated essay topic in mind, I considered what could be said in the text that would truly be interesting. But I didn't have much time to think about it because the next subject was already around the corner. I prepared for the next class of the day, History of Literature with the kind and beloved Professor Maria. This had always been, for me, one of the most captivating classes, not only for the content but for the way she conducted each moment, as if pulling an invisible thread that connected us to past events, as well as her speeches that always helped when remembering something important. During the brief moment between one professor leaving and the next arriving, the classroom seemed to quickly stir as if a dopamine fire had spread in an instant. Groups began talking among themselves, one or two got up to put some paper in the trash, and there were also the bold ones who left the room to go to the bathroom. Something that was against school rules… And they knew it. However, during this particular interval, no one tried their luck, after all, it was practically a legend among the students. The case of the student who committed this act, before a class with Professor Maria. It was like a human who dared to challenge the gods with his rebellion… And just like Prometheus, who felt the wrath of Olympus when trying to defy Zeus, the young man felt the weight of the consequences. Since then, the individual was never seen alive again… ‘The truth is he moved to another city the following week, but I’m not going to be the spoilsport who ruins the school’s lore, right… ’ Interrupting my epic and Greek thought, Professor Maria appeared, entering the room; the atmosphere seemed to quiet naturally, which was to be expected… Everyone had a certain fear of her. She carried that firm, yet welcoming posture that made everyone pay attention. She placed her books on the desk, took a deep breath, and began: “Good morning, class. For those who don’t know me yet, I am Professor Maria. I will be with you in the History of Literature subject throughout the school year” she said, analyzing the room, as if mentally counting the number of students. “It’s a large class, about 35 students in total, which will be good, because our focus this year will be modern history, especially Brazilian history; we will not just analyze facts, but the forces they caused in posterity. Understood?” Everyone nodded, promptly. After a brief presentation about her background and what she intended to cover, she turned directly to me, with a gentle, yet attentive gaze. “Helena… are you well after what happened at the library?” she asked, concern evident in her tone. I nodded, even though I felt an involuntary tightness in my chest. “I am, professor. Thank you for asking” “And… my condolences for Rose.” The brief, almost silent pause carried more empathy than a thousand words. I just lowered my eyes and murmured a thank you, feeling that familiar weight return, if only for an instant. I knew that eventually, I would hear comments about the incident. After all, it was a city where information traveled quickly between mouths. And especially at school, where all the teachers were friends and knew each other. ‘Or at least most of them…’ I would receive some condolences eventually, which would be good, but at the same time an irritating reminder. Moving on, Maria began to introduce the day's lesson. “Today we will start with a review of Modern History, so that everyone can follow the content throughout the year. Then, our focus will be the review of Brazilian History, which is widely covered in exams and will be our main topic” She spoke while organizing her books in a corner of the table and picking up the projector cable. “But before that… let’s remember an event that will be having an anniversary soon, by the way…” Her words brought an interesting reflection… I deviated from the subject for a mom