ENTRY FOR THE FOURTH DAY.
I woke up today to find the light different.
Not that it had changed completely, but there was something off about it.
It was softer, fading earlier than usual. As I moved through the halls, it grew dimmer and dimmer. I thought at first it was a trick of the eye, but no—it was the light itself.
It didn't seem to have a fixed time to it. There was no pattern I could discern.
I could still see, but only just barely. The world around me had dimmed into something more like shadow than light. I couldn't see the edges of the walls as clearly. Even the doors seemed to blur. I wondered, for the first time, where this light was coming from. Could it be a natural source? But if it fades like this, then there must be something... a source that I can't see.
I didn't stop to think too long on it. There were more pressing things. More rooms. More books.
But the question of the light—the fading light—haunted me as I went about my day.