it is both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply
Amalia, too, has been busy, her time torn between her budding relationship and trying to save the world, with some wedding and baking and resisting arrest thrown in for good measure. It feels like ages since she has been in the Atheneum: certainly not since they finished repairs, the roof finally shielding the elements, the walls finally built rather than crumbling down. She used to haunt these hallowed halls, one of the ghosts, the wraiths within; now she has been brought back to life, her dusty tomb almost forgotten, the books left lingering on wooden shelves.
Perhaps it is the recent repairs, perhaps the other changes to the world, but as Amalia slips between the heavy doors she notices more people than usual filling the sacred space. It gives her pause, a strange mix of pleasure and jealousy rising in her chest. Once this had been her haven, the place she weathered her storms. To see it now, illuminated and alive, is another reminder of the changes that plague them, the way the world continues to turn.
It is a good change, though, a rare positive switch in a time when things only seem to darken. And despite it all, the place is familiar, the shelves and content still the same. Amalia knows them like the back of her hand, it is only a matter of minutes before she finds the volumes she seeks: an old tome on Attuned magic, the art of shifting and speaking to animals. The book fits well between her fingers, and the baker opens a random page, inhaling the familiar scent of parchment, delighting in the delicate handwriting, the scrawl of old ink. She drinks in the knowledge written within: ...the Attuned race can, in time, gain trust of animals, enough to bend them to their will. However this compulsion seems only to extend as far as animals who share their species...
She, too, is too absorbed to notice the world around her, the others in the path of her pacing exploration, until it is nearly too late. At first she does not recognize Sam; then she wonders if she should pretend she does not, walk past wordlessly without awkward exchange. Something stops her, though: their shared status as Naturals, as Loreseekers, as the lasts in lines who used to uphold this place.
Swallowing down her rising anxiety, Amalia turns her face up to the Ascended, her voice appropriately low for the setting. "Hello, Sam. What're you reading?"
Perhaps it is the recent repairs, perhaps the other changes to the world, but as Amalia slips between the heavy doors she notices more people than usual filling the sacred space. It gives her pause, a strange mix of pleasure and jealousy rising in her chest. Once this had been her haven, the place she weathered her storms. To see it now, illuminated and alive, is another reminder of the changes that plague them, the way the world continues to turn.
It is a good change, though, a rare positive switch in a time when things only seem to darken. And despite it all, the place is familiar, the shelves and content still the same. Amalia knows them like the back of her hand, it is only a matter of minutes before she finds the volumes she seeks: an old tome on Attuned magic, the art of shifting and speaking to animals. The book fits well between her fingers, and the baker opens a random page, inhaling the familiar scent of parchment, delighting in the delicate handwriting, the scrawl of old ink. She drinks in the knowledge written within: ...the Attuned race can, in time, gain trust of animals, enough to bend them to their will. However this compulsion seems only to extend as far as animals who share their species...
She, too, is too absorbed to notice the world around her, the others in the path of her pacing exploration, until it is nearly too late. At first she does not recognize Sam; then she wonders if she should pretend she does not, walk past wordlessly without awkward exchange. Something stops her, though: their shared status as Naturals, as Loreseekers, as the lasts in lines who used to uphold this place.
Swallowing down her rising anxiety, Amalia turns her face up to the Ascended, her voice appropriately low for the setting. "Hello, Sam. What're you reading?"
