my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun had visited the Atheneum once before, to find the shrine where he could pray to The Voice. Normally, he’d have thought that was the only reason he would go to what was essentially a library. The potter preferred to get his information from people, both because they revealed a lot more than they intended to and because that meant he didn’t have to do the work himself.
However, some information he needed to dig up himself. That included information on anything pertaining The Voice, portals, and the lands beyond the Hollowed Grounds and the Greatwood. He was banned from the Greatwood, which was shitty enough. Which meant he was also basically stuck in the Hollowed Grounds, at least until someone figured out how to get the Fae to stop sucking. Probably wouldn’t be him: he’d done nothing in that meeting between Wessex and the Fae chief.
Well, maybe he could make up for it and show some initiative. Unfortunately, his careful perusal of the stacks yielded him nothing. Well, careful perusal was a funny way of saying ‘wandering around hoping something would catch his eye’ but hey, it sometimes worked. Not today though, so he wandered back into the main area.
Where a by-now familiar figure caught his eye. He sauntered up to where Clem was reading. ”Hey swift. You know we don’t need the lamp, right?” Night vision had its perks. The potter grabbed a nearby chair and spun it around, straddling it and leaning his arms across the top. ”Whatcha reading?” He craned his neck to see what the boy was looking at, but it didn’t seem that important. Certainly not important enough to be marked up.
However, some information he needed to dig up himself. That included information on anything pertaining The Voice, portals, and the lands beyond the Hollowed Grounds and the Greatwood. He was banned from the Greatwood, which was shitty enough. Which meant he was also basically stuck in the Hollowed Grounds, at least until someone figured out how to get the Fae to stop sucking. Probably wouldn’t be him: he’d done nothing in that meeting between Wessex and the Fae chief.
Well, maybe he could make up for it and show some initiative. Unfortunately, his careful perusal of the stacks yielded him nothing. Well, careful perusal was a funny way of saying ‘wandering around hoping something would catch his eye’ but hey, it sometimes worked. Not today though, so he wandered back into the main area.
Where a by-now familiar figure caught his eye. He sauntered up to where Clem was reading. ”Hey swift. You know we don’t need the lamp, right?” Night vision had its perks. The potter grabbed a nearby chair and spun it around, straddling it and leaning his arms across the top. ”Whatcha reading?” He craned his neck to see what the boy was looking at, but it didn’t seem that important. Certainly not important enough to be marked up.
by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real
AMUN
