Aloys's copy of The Complete Works of Solana Tinuvial had lived a long life. The hardcover binding was frayed all around the edges, weak particularly in the spine, and the outer fabric was stained with the mud of the road and speckled with blood, mostly his. The pages were brown and stiff, more likely to break than bend if folded. He memorized the page he was on, as he read and reread the book over and over, to avoid any more indelicate placeholders. He had been foolish when he was young in how he had treated the book, and he regretted it. He had enough coin to purchase another, but sentimentality held him back. This copy had witnessed who he was. These pages comforted him when he was his worst self.
Sitting in the soldier's barracks beside his bunk, he pulled the book out now, letting his hands feel the embossed lettering of the author's name. Uthenera was but a myth, so few had survived through it and carried on into the Thedas he knew. Somehow, she had managed it. Of course she would. But Aloys had never considered it a possibility when her poems curled around him, whispering about a world that had been and could yet be again. Her words were his dreams. He pulled out the slip of the order, comparing the letters of the name with the letters on the book. In the solitude the barracks during mealtime, he leaned back in his bunk and ran an astonished hand through his hair. First, he had learned he was given clearance to learn magic properly, and now, he would meet her? Had the ether finally decided to bless him?
Aloys Tinuvial to report to the repository for general magic lessons with Solana Tinuvial at noon in 3 days, for a general routine curriculum in all basic spells.
What the fuck would he do? What would she say? What might she expect? What would he wear? He stiffened looking around, only to relax remembering all he had were uniforms now - brown hunter's boots and a long, green coat. No more Orlesian flair. (He missed wearing a mask. Nyllian had faith in him, but he felt awkward when he couldn't hide a frown when others pestered him.) He sighed. He came here to blend in, but if Solana Tinuvial had found Uthenera, he needed, more than ever to stand out.
Three days later, at noon, Aloys reported to the repository library, and within, was directed to the small laboratory they would meet in. He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know how he would pull this off. He'd never done anything like this, nor imagined himself doing anything like this, but here he was, about to meet his dead hero. He wore his uniform as clean and pressed as he could get it. The dirt of the field had been scrubbed out of him. He'd erred trying to get ahead of himself with his magic before she taught him, and the effort had only sparked a painful energy in his hand. It was now bandaged. He hid the hand in his pocket, a blessing soldier's uniforms so generously provided, and entered with a stiff formality, looking everywhere.
Sitting in the soldier's barracks beside his bunk, he pulled the book out now, letting his hands feel the embossed lettering of the author's name. Uthenera was but a myth, so few had survived through it and carried on into the Thedas he knew. Somehow, she had managed it. Of course she would. But Aloys had never considered it a possibility when her poems curled around him, whispering about a world that had been and could yet be again. Her words were his dreams. He pulled out the slip of the order, comparing the letters of the name with the letters on the book. In the solitude the barracks during mealtime, he leaned back in his bunk and ran an astonished hand through his hair. First, he had learned he was given clearance to learn magic properly, and now, he would meet her? Had the ether finally decided to bless him?
Solana Tinuvial.The letters were a perfect match.
Aloys Tinuvial to report to the repository for general magic lessons with Solana Tinuvial at noon in 3 days, for a general routine curriculum in all basic spells.
What the fuck would he do? What would she say? What might she expect? What would he wear? He stiffened looking around, only to relax remembering all he had were uniforms now - brown hunter's boots and a long, green coat. No more Orlesian flair. (He missed wearing a mask. Nyllian had faith in him, but he felt awkward when he couldn't hide a frown when others pestered him.) He sighed. He came here to blend in, but if Solana Tinuvial had found Uthenera, he needed, more than ever to stand out.
~~~
Three days later, at noon, Aloys reported to the repository library, and within, was directed to the small laboratory they would meet in. He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know how he would pull this off. He'd never done anything like this, nor imagined himself doing anything like this, but here he was, about to meet his dead hero. He wore his uniform as clean and pressed as he could get it. The dirt of the field had been scrubbed out of him. He'd erred trying to get ahead of himself with his magic before she taught him, and the effort had only sparked a painful energy in his hand. It was now bandaged. He hid the hand in his pocket, a blessing soldier's uniforms so generously provided, and entered with a stiff formality, looking everywhere.
Aloys... reporting,he managed, his thick Orlesian accent coming down an octave, an old instinct to assert dominance, as he glanced voraciously, wondrously around.
02-07-2024, 01:05 PM
