Ever since they had fixed up the the gaping hole in the side of the Atheneum and its ceiling the place had been significantly darker, but also quieter - and thankfully drier. As a Leafchange storm passed through, rain pattering down on new and old shingling alike, Jigano breathed a sigh of relief at knowing that the water was no longer running freely in among the books and scrolls. He had been absent from the great building for too long while evading Zariah's attempts to capture him for dodging her wretched draft, but being back again was a balm to a soul weary with the daily fight to cling to the better parts of himself.
He had promised Ludo, promised Amalia... promised Edy, if only in his heart, that he would try be better and see things through, that he would earn his place again after nearly throwing it away when his heart and mind had broken beneath the weight of his mistakes. That meant rebuilding trust from the ground up again, beginning small and not forgetting where he had come from.
He walked among the shelves, his arms filled with books he was carrying towards the front of the Atheneum and a shelf he was preparing there for the coming season. Deepfrost was nearly upon them, and Long Night would arrive before they were ready, though at least this year many of the Outlanders knew what to expect and how to prepare. Many... but not all. Their numbers had continued to swell over the year with new arrivals every season who had only heard rumors at best. For those unwilling or for some reason unable to reach out to the Naturals and older Outlanders he wanted the books on Long Night traditions and safeguards easily available in one place, and he and Remi had found a number of useful ones last year.
He had taken a brief detour towards a shelf he thought he remembered having a particularly good recounting of the Spark Bird and Luxere nestled among its treasures when he found another patron of the great library there ahead of him. Invisible hackles rose along his back at the sight of the Launceleyn man, irrational and sharp as the snarl that tried to curl his lips, but he wrestled with the flare of blightrage, lips thin and white as he drew slow, deep breaths and fought it back. Loren had apologized, after all, and the bard couldn't afford any more grudges.
Not with the clock ticking down, only a matter of time before he was more beast than bard, and had to be caged for his own good. A shudder ran through him at that thought, ice chilling the dark flames of temper, and he tightened trembling fingers on the books in his arms to prevent them from spilling to the floor. He cleared his throat, part from courtesy and part from a genuine need to swallow past the bile that had gathered there.
"Is there anything I can help you find?" he asked, drawing the decorum of a Loreseeker about him to assist whoever had come to the Atheneum for knowledge.
He had promised Ludo, promised Amalia... promised Edy, if only in his heart, that he would try be better and see things through, that he would earn his place again after nearly throwing it away when his heart and mind had broken beneath the weight of his mistakes. That meant rebuilding trust from the ground up again, beginning small and not forgetting where he had come from.
He walked among the shelves, his arms filled with books he was carrying towards the front of the Atheneum and a shelf he was preparing there for the coming season. Deepfrost was nearly upon them, and Long Night would arrive before they were ready, though at least this year many of the Outlanders knew what to expect and how to prepare. Many... but not all. Their numbers had continued to swell over the year with new arrivals every season who had only heard rumors at best. For those unwilling or for some reason unable to reach out to the Naturals and older Outlanders he wanted the books on Long Night traditions and safeguards easily available in one place, and he and Remi had found a number of useful ones last year.
He had taken a brief detour towards a shelf he thought he remembered having a particularly good recounting of the Spark Bird and Luxere nestled among its treasures when he found another patron of the great library there ahead of him. Invisible hackles rose along his back at the sight of the Launceleyn man, irrational and sharp as the snarl that tried to curl his lips, but he wrestled with the flare of blightrage, lips thin and white as he drew slow, deep breaths and fought it back. Loren had apologized, after all, and the bard couldn't afford any more grudges.
Not with the clock ticking down, only a matter of time before he was more beast than bard, and had to be caged for his own good. A shudder ran through him at that thought, ice chilling the dark flames of temper, and he tightened trembling fingers on the books in his arms to prevent them from spilling to the floor. He cleared his throat, part from courtesy and part from a genuine need to swallow past the bile that had gathered there.
"Is there anything I can help you find?" he asked, drawing the decorum of a Loreseeker about him to assist whoever had come to the Atheneum for knowledge.
