"Anything you can teach the newcomers about writing in a legible hand will be well worth the effort," the Provost admitted wryly. Much as he loved reading his Seekers's reports and journals, it was so much easier when the writing was clear enough to glide over rather than having to fight to decipher every third word!
"Perhaps Tarasha can help, if Nephele isn't around?" he suggested. "Once you meet them, that is. Though any bridges we can build among the Fae should be pursued." He understood about untranslatable old books, the bane of his first few months in the Atheneum. "Your experience in the Atheneum makes you well-suited to sifting out the grains of truth in the old stories," he agreed. "This is where that whole not-sleeping thing comes in handy." It was a gentle bit of teasing, almost hesitant, unsure of where their boundaries were now.
A party, though - or at least, a quiet little mixer (though Ingrid would likely be intoxicated and encouraging them all to a rowdier celebration) - would be just the thing. Perhaps Sam could be convinced to mix up a special blend of tea for the occasion? But before he could ask, the news of Loren's departure drained the warmth from the air and left him grasping after ways to help. "I wasn't hurt," he waved off Sam's concern with a grateful smile. "There was a luxere with fiery antlers who must have come through the portal in the Mathair somehow. It accidentally started a fire in the Greatwood, so those who saw the smoke went to try and put it out. Abasi and I were trying to save the Mathair itself while others tried to calm the little beast or put out the other fires..." He trailed off, sighing slightly. "I'm not even quite sure what happened, there at the end. It looked like it was calming down and then there was a last... pulse? Lash? Explosion, almost... of fire around it. Abasi caught the brunt of it somehow. He burned... I think he was dead before he hit the ground. Loren was right there when it happened. He... probably blames himself," Jigano admitted with a sigh. He knew how Loren felt, and could all too easily imagine Rory or Amalia or Sam in a similar situation.
"Perhaps Tarasha can help, if Nephele isn't around?" he suggested. "Once you meet them, that is. Though any bridges we can build among the Fae should be pursued." He understood about untranslatable old books, the bane of his first few months in the Atheneum. "Your experience in the Atheneum makes you well-suited to sifting out the grains of truth in the old stories," he agreed. "This is where that whole not-sleeping thing comes in handy." It was a gentle bit of teasing, almost hesitant, unsure of where their boundaries were now.
A party, though - or at least, a quiet little mixer (though Ingrid would likely be intoxicated and encouraging them all to a rowdier celebration) - would be just the thing. Perhaps Sam could be convinced to mix up a special blend of tea for the occasion? But before he could ask, the news of Loren's departure drained the warmth from the air and left him grasping after ways to help. "I wasn't hurt," he waved off Sam's concern with a grateful smile. "There was a luxere with fiery antlers who must have come through the portal in the Mathair somehow. It accidentally started a fire in the Greatwood, so those who saw the smoke went to try and put it out. Abasi and I were trying to save the Mathair itself while others tried to calm the little beast or put out the other fires..." He trailed off, sighing slightly. "I'm not even quite sure what happened, there at the end. It looked like it was calming down and then there was a last... pulse? Lash? Explosion, almost... of fire around it. Abasi caught the brunt of it somehow. He burned... I think he was dead before he hit the ground. Loren was right there when it happened. He... probably blames himself," Jigano admitted with a sigh. He knew how Loren felt, and could all too easily imagine Rory or Amalia or Sam in a similar situation.
