In the distant and mysterious eastern land, there stands an ancient and solemn seminary. It is like an impregnable spiritual fortress in the earthly world, quietly rooted in the embankment of the river of the ages, baptised by wind and rain, carrying countless devotions and expectations. College of thick stone walls, moss spread freely, like a part of the wordless history book, silently telling the legend of the past long years of anecdotes. Towering into the clouds of the spire, like a giant's finger, straight into the sky, every time the sunrise spills out, the bright golden light gently sprinkled on the tip of the tower, just like God lovingly outstretched to guide the lost lamb's helping hand. Inside the college, the corridors twist and turn, a quiet atmosphere like a veil, a study, candlelight flickering, as if the spirit of the elves, young students immersed in them, as if swimming in the depths of the sea of wisdom contained in the Bible, searching for the true meaning of the soul.