Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

experience of burning flesh puts everything into perspective: I have a Duty to do, and not even my blood boiling or my roasting flesh could stop me from doing it. I will do my best and ignore how my familial colleagues failed.
    Even as my hand flakes to ashes as I write this…
    I will make notes for the future on the past. I will not make the same mistakes. And, yes, that is as trite as some of the novels in the library. But this is all I can do.
    ~ Jeremy , January 1 st , Journal Number 1
     
    Jeremy could not think of anything else to do: the library was in adequate shape and all the documents were updated, and even his minute hunger did not provide an adequate diversion. There was no news, so the television screen remained mute and blank in the communications room at home. No ordered groceries or documents were scheduled for pick up from the Wall, although the ten-mile walk through the lanes would be a nice distraction. The latter held most appeal.
    The silence of his home settled on him like dust, stirring him to action. He wandered through the grounds to escape from this oppression. The gardens of decades past were overgrown, overrun and impossible to traverse: only the grass lawns, now thriving meadows, provided the only so-called paths to travel. The grounds under his care only necessarily required a passable trail to get to the library from his home. The remaining forests and land to the north of the Wall was his to do with as he wished, but the wild had a better hold than any of his rudimentary efforts. The Wall, roughly five miles south from home, separated all his land from the Northern County below. The Wall once was the famous Hadrian's Wall , but now it has been reduced to a border only Jeremy knew how to cross.
    He swept through the flowering grasses, thinking of the pressure that was his inheritance: the land, the Duties and the immortality. His family's death, decades past, provided all three through hereditary process. These Duties, all outside knowledge of which had been weathered away by time, impressed themselves on the shoulders of those unwittingly involved and knowledgeable – him. Firmly.
    After passing the guard of coniferous trees around its perimeter, the library came into sight: its huge mass bulging into the golden grass plain and trees bordering it. Ivy lay generously over the gothic façade of the building, climbing up columns that spouted from the forward veranda and piercing through the rooftop and warped balustrades. It seemed to be waging a war with the other vegetation embedded in the piping and crevices, neither gaining any advantage.
    This was the place for work and Duty. Inside contained books, documents, papers, ledgers, and many other miscellaneous forms of media and items due his position. His first Responsibility was to keep all this information, now laid to rest in the library's fathomless depths, safe. He passed through the myriad galleries on the inside, deactivating the rudimentary security that theoretically safeguarded his obligations.
    Content in being alone, Jeremy chose the role of secretary of the Northern Council. This role, due to the other positions his deceased family members previously held in this isolated community, came with unique opportunities to veto and participate in any decisions made in the county council debates. However, he outright refused to actively participate in any other role than secretary on the council, so he would not be required to leave his original post as librarian and thus compromise the nation's security. Being a librarian held a relaxing, monotonous regime and routine that Jeremy valued highly. Especially as all the other Responsibilities often lacked this quality.
    Jeremy climbed down a staircase, accessed through a hidden door deep in the bowels of the mansion. The clicking of his hard leather boots echoed down the stone staircase to the floor below. The concealed door closed with a whisper behind him as he descended into the mild depths.
    It was because of the additional Responsibilities, that the organisation of the floor dedicated to council matters in the library was unique. In a general plan, this belowground floor was open with the staircase ending in its centre, splitting the floor in two, and contained everything relating to Northern County administration. Any resemblances to the other floors in the building were disregarded, as he was indifferent to the fantastical designs of the upper floors. The balconies, room