Auto-translated
Moriner returned to his room, completely exhausted, but with a fresh, sealed letter. It had been almost two weeks since he had last been able to contact home. He immediately sensed a certain anxiety and tension emanating from the message. He placed the envelope in the far corner of the table, deliberately taking his time unpacking his bag, sorting through his notes, counting his textbooks, and starting to read a new codex, but his thoughts kept wandering, and he was easily distracted. He began cleaning the neglected room, sweeping away cobwebs, tidying up the windows and mirrors, and other household items. But with each passing minute, the irresistible urge grew stronger, and he found himself casting increasingly longing glances towards the letter. The thin thread of time was stretched to its limit, as if about to snap at any moment. Moriner felt as if he could even sense this frozen, ringing tension in the air.
Looking at the clock, he realized that he had long since missed his usual bedtime. It was already dark outside, and the distant howling of the autumn wind could be heard through the tightly drawn curtains. Bright artificial lights shone through the entrance door, and quiet voices and muffled laughter could be heard from beyond the walls.
Finally, with a heavy sigh and a hand across his cold forehead, Moriner got out of bed and walked over to the desk. A tiny light flared up on the surface of his palm, its faint rays dispelling the gloom that filled the room. His other hand, casting strange and multifaceted shadows, reached out hesitantly, as if groping blindly for its way. Grasping the paper edge of the envelope, Moriner squeezed his fingers tightly and pulled it towards him. Then, with difficulty, he shuffled back to the bed. Carefully, trying not to crumple the contents, he opened the letter and held it up to the glowing palm.
The bulky, awkwardly (but nevertheless diligently) drawn symbols were clearly visible in the dim light of the magical lamp, but Moriner still couldn't bring himself to fully grasp the meaning of the chaotic stream of thoughts that had overwhelmed his mind. After running his eyes over the meaningless lines several times, he set the letter aside, squeezed his eyes shut, massaged his temples, feeling the frantic pounding of his heart in his chest. The second time, the meaning of the message began to slowly dawn on him, like an all-consuming avalanche rolling down from the top of a mountain, growing and intensifying with each second of reading. When this imaginary avalanche finally reached the foot of the mountain, it turned all its fierce fury against the defenseless student. Moriner literally felt his breath catch in his throat and his bones creak under its unbearable weight, his hands grow cold, his lips tremble, and his eyes blur.
No, this was not a surprise. He had prepared himself for the fact that sooner or later this was bound to happen. But even so, at the crucial moment, the realization struck him like a sharp dagger, deeply cutting into his soul. Throwing the ill-fated letter aside, Moriner hunched over on the bed, covering his face with his lifeless hands, and plunged into the impenetrable darkness.