Once at his grandmother's doorstep he knocked and opened the always unlocked door, "Grandmother, I'm home" he called, "I'm going to be in my room, okay?" no answer; Arthur assumed that she was sleeping. The house was small and had no upstairs. The shag carpet was a bright dandelion yellow and assorted paintings adorned the walls. Some of the well-done artwork was created by Arthur himself. The kitchen was a few paces forward from the doorway and through that room to the left was the flight of stairs that led to Arthur's room, also known as the basement. To the right furthermost wall of the living room next to the kitchen was a large landscape painting of a lake with mountains in the distance. There was also a floral couch below the extravagant work of art. Mounted on the right wall were a grey flat screen TV and a rocking chair to the left of that. On the leftmost wall was a large picture window that overlooked the autumn weather outside; to the left of that was a light grey loveseat. In between the couch and TV was an opening to the corridor that led to a guest room, bathroom, and Arthur's grandmother's bedroom. Arthur looked around momentarily and then headed forward to the kitchen and down the stairs to his room.

The whole basement was practically Arthur's room other than the washer and dryer area which was off to the far upper right. To the upper left was his bed which was against the wall in the corner and perpendicular to that was the infamous bookshelf that held all of his grandmother's mythical hard covers. In the center of the room was a small beige throw rug. Arthur had walked up to the rather wide, black bookshelf and gazed upon the four shelves at the spines of the eroded volumes; he then found a coal coloured bulky book that had a small red devil's trap printed onto the spine. As he pulled it out of its resting place, his arm immediately fell from its weight. He heaved it onto his twin-sized bed and then sat down next to it.

The cover had the same devil's trap that was on the spine but in a much larger print. Below it was a supposed title that said: Asdif Cych Hogligh. As Arthur felt the cover he noticed it was snakeskin and well made. He then gingerly opened the cover only to find the table of contents; page six hundred sixty six had contained the chapter titled, Reigniting Candles. Why was it in English, Arthur wondered, maybe the book was bilingual. When he had gotten to the page he noticed that is was black and there was some kind of weird lock printed onto the page. Arthur thought it was just for decoration but as he attempted to flip the page, the page would not turn. "What the hell?" he said aloud as he kept trying to grasp the edge of the page to flip it; it felt like it was super glued to the book. After a few minutes of endeavoring to pry the page from the volume, Arthur looked at the supposed lock more closely. The lock had four grey swirls in each corner with all the swirls turning counterclockwise; in the center of the page was an emerald transmutation circle. Arthur knew there was some kind of code to open the page but he did not know what it could possibly be. Then all of a sudden a waterfall of words flowed from his gaping mouth, "Open for that I am possibly up to murder of myself for the greater good of the world." The swirls then spun rapidly and the transmutation circle began to glow radioactive green which made the page turn ominously on its own. Arthur slammed the book shut in apprehension. "I have to show this to Sherlock and John!" he then shoved the book into his nearby backpack and ran upstairs to converse with his grandmother.

As he sprinted into the living room, he noticed his grandmother in the rocking chair, "Oh good afternoon, Arthur." His grandmother was a quaint, little old lady with white curly hair and rosy cheeks; she was about seventy-five.

"Grandmother…." Arthur began as he tried to catch his breath, "I need to ask you something."

"Well okay, Artie. Have a seat; you look like you just ran a mile."

Arthur sat on the sofa, "It's because what I have to ask you is important."

"Well what is it, dear?"

Arthur took a deep breath, "Do you know about relighting candles?"

His grandmother's eyes widened and her tone had gotten stern, "Arthur, stay away from that."

"But-"

"I said stay away from it!"

Arthur was befuddled, "Why?"

"Because I said so! And I don't want to hear another word about it!"

"Um, okay." Arthur was definitely interested in these candles now. He rose from the couch and went back down to his room.

John was at home on his desktop computer looking up the candles once more. When he searched for it on the Google search engine, instead of getting candle related results, he had gotten results for trick houses and rooms. John was confused as would anyone else would be; he clicked on the first link and it just showed him a famous local trick house. There were no signs of relighting candles anywhere. John sighed in frustration and hit the back button to click on the other links. First link, there was no candles; second link, no candles. Third link, there was still no mentioning of candles. Fourth link, the only mentioning of candles was in the house's gift shop. Fifty links later, still zero results of relighting candles. John slammed his head on the desk and then winced from the horrible agony that ensued. He rubbed his now red and aching temple and grabbed his phone to call Sherlock.

Sherlock picked up after two rings, "Did you find anything?"

John groaned in pain, "Well hello to you too."

"John, did you slam your head on your desk again?"

John exhaled out of his nostrils, "…Yes."

"For God's sake, John."

"Oh shut up. By the way, I did not find anything on those candles, but I did find something you might find interesting."

"If it's not related to the candles I don't want anything to do with it. Besides, the only thing you find interesting is naked women."

"Oh lay off it, Sherlock! Anyway when I searched for the candles on Google, it gave me results for trick houses."

"Trick houses?"

"Yeah, I thought the same thing."

"Foreshadowing, maybe?"

"Maybe."

"Hopefully Arthur will give us more information."

"God, I hope so."

Arthur was lying in his bed and was staring up at the blank ceiling above. The only sound was the clock on the nearby wall ticking away all the valuable seconds humanity has taken for granite. His eyes darted from the backpack that was at the foot of his bed and back up towards the ceiling. "Why won't Grandmother tell me anything?" Arthur thought aloud as he rolled onto his right side.