Night had long fallen. Not that time came easy to telling within the tall stacks of the monastery's archives. Most light beneath their vaulted ceilings were sparked by magick-light. Their ethereal glows cast in warm yellows that mocked fire's light. Too rare and ancient were the texts stored there in to be trusted by a true and open flame, or even sun's rays, he remembered Innis scolding him once.
It made good work for the apprentice artificers and rune-smiths too.
The magick lamps that is. Hells, Hector still retouched the rune-work on some of the older lamps from time to time. It was good practice. And there was much to learn from the enchantments of past generations. Though it was usually Roki that improved upon the designs, if he were honest.
Away from the glass panes of the library's arched windows, time blurred by. But Hector could feel it behind his eyes. The need for rest that crept over him.
Hector sat back in his corner of the tall stacks, and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. A tome on a small plank of wood rested on his lap. Easier to carry the thing around with you, and sit between the shelves, he found, than walk back and forth between isles and desk. Kind of easy to get lost back here. Not that he would ever tell anyone. Specially not Innis. Why wasn't Innis here, he wondered.
My, he was tired. And in all honesty, he was rather confused as to why Syr Raye had offered him the task. Of course, he had offered other squires the position as well. And hector was sure they accepted. Assistants to the scholarship of Pursuant of Life, Solon Raye. Hector smirked at the realizing memory of it. Doubly of the course, Hector was proud to stand and accept such a duty. Beat shoveling manure, that's for sure.
He leaned back, and gave a heavy yawn, let one hand stretch up behind him as he sat on the old wooden stool, and it groaned beneath him.
But that wasn't really it, was it?
It had been months since the Sworn had been called to council. Left all the squires out in the dark. But, word caught wind. They were squires but they weren't dumb. Well, least not all of them. And it only took a day or two before they all whispered around the knoll as to the secrets of the Everwatcher. And hells, Vos had fought a demon to that account. It was only some weeks later that reports started to pour in. Cultists in distant cities. Blight spreading through the woods.
Hector looked down at the book that rest upon his lap.
It just felt silly was all. Doused by the warm glow of false-fire's light. To be sitting here, behind the safety of the Monastery's walls, dressed in plain clothes, scouring tomes, in search for a people that were... well. In a lot of old legends.
Solon Raye
It made good work for the apprentice artificers and rune-smiths too.
The magick lamps that is. Hells, Hector still retouched the rune-work on some of the older lamps from time to time. It was good practice. And there was much to learn from the enchantments of past generations. Though it was usually Roki that improved upon the designs, if he were honest.
Away from the glass panes of the library's arched windows, time blurred by. But Hector could feel it behind his eyes. The need for rest that crept over him.
Hector sat back in his corner of the tall stacks, and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. A tome on a small plank of wood rested on his lap. Easier to carry the thing around with you, and sit between the shelves, he found, than walk back and forth between isles and desk. Kind of easy to get lost back here. Not that he would ever tell anyone. Specially not Innis. Why wasn't Innis here, he wondered.
My, he was tired. And in all honesty, he was rather confused as to why Syr Raye had offered him the task. Of course, he had offered other squires the position as well. And hector was sure they accepted. Assistants to the scholarship of Pursuant of Life, Solon Raye. Hector smirked at the realizing memory of it. Doubly of the course, Hector was proud to stand and accept such a duty. Beat shoveling manure, that's for sure.
He leaned back, and gave a heavy yawn, let one hand stretch up behind him as he sat on the old wooden stool, and it groaned beneath him.
But that wasn't really it, was it?
It had been months since the Sworn had been called to council. Left all the squires out in the dark. But, word caught wind. They were squires but they weren't dumb. Well, least not all of them. And it only took a day or two before they all whispered around the knoll as to the secrets of the Everwatcher. And hells, Vos had fought a demon to that account. It was only some weeks later that reports started to pour in. Cultists in distant cities. Blight spreading through the woods.
Hector looked down at the book that rest upon his lap.
It just felt silly was all. Doused by the warm glow of false-fire's light. To be sitting here, behind the safety of the Monastery's walls, dressed in plain clothes, scouring tomes, in search for a people that were... well. In a lot of old legends.
Solon Raye