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[Izuyanai]

So, Duun was unwilling to discuss his problems. Izuyanai couldn’t really blame him. She’d certainly not spill all her secrets to a fresh acquaintance. It would be strange if someone had walked up to her with their life story. Strange, but not exactly unwelcome. For now the raven had done what needed to be done. She’d let them know she was willing to help and that was more than what most people would do. She grinned as she set off up the stairs with Duun. Something about stairs was always so intriguing. The way they lead somewhere. Anywhere. This one was especially beautiful. The crafted skyglass was smooth and wound flawlessly towards the upper levels. She ended up climbing three flights before stepping away into the proper landing. On her journey upwards, Izuyanai noticed that she was still in the main section of the library. She'd managed to notice at least two more wings leading away into the depths of the library. Counters had been stationed by the entrance hall to each one, so she'd not be mistaken in thinking they were restricted. Looking around, there were no people at all on this floor. No, not quite. The woman from before had followed them upstairs and was now busy…styling her hair? Tip-toeing past the concentrating woman and consulting the floor map revealed that this floor was dedicated to the sections of history, geography, and language. Silence hung thickly in the air as she beckoned Duun toward the history section that was right behind the small collection of tables. Weak sunlight filtered through the windows and the streaks of light revealed motes of dust drifting through the air. However, not only did the light reveal dust, but also a peculiar sight. From all that she had seen of the library Izuyanai had noticed neat shelves and carefully categorised tomes. Here however, in the history section, books were actually strewn across the floor as if flung there carelessly. It was certainly uncharacteristic of the place. “That’s interesting,” she said to Duun. “Is it this sort of thing that you’ve been noticing as well?” Placing a finger against her lips Izuyanai pondered to herself as she picked up one of the scattered texts.

[Duun]

Duun enjoyed the enthusiasm of the young woman. He had been in the library too many times to be amazed anymore but he fed off of her reaction. He had acted the same way when he had first entered the magical looking city, glittering in the sun. If she was like this now, he couldn't wait for night to fall.

He laughed, maybe a bit too loudly, as he passed the woman doing her hair. Couldn't she find more worth-while pursuits in a library? He looked at his own fiery red tangles, running a hand through the mess.

Walking cautiously around the self-absorbed woman, he followed Izuyanai to the mess of tomes and scrolls scattered carelessly. As a return patron of the great library, Duun found it in himself to be quite angry at whatever little devil had mucked about in here.

Izuyanai's words interrupted his sphere of anger and he shook his head. 'No, not so bad. Maybe they- they-" He gave up and switched to Nari. "I think they're getting angrier or perhaps something in the history books is driving their anger."

[Amelia]

First section to the back, last section to the front. Second strand behind the third, and third (now second) crossed to the front…

Amelia reread the words again and again, forming them silently on her lips as she concentrated deeply. Her fingers worked through her hair once again, knotting and crossing and plaiting. Her progress was painfully slow, and not at all enough to please the demanding young blonde. This time it was the order of the braiding that confused her: somehow Amelia ended up with a normal three-stranded plait, with the fourth strand of hair hanging limp and untouched.

For saying they lived in a shanty town made of tents, the Drykas people certainly knew how to braid their hair in the most complicated of ways. Twice now Amelia had tried and failed to style her hair as she intended, but now her patience was truly growing thin. She had always got what she wanted eventually – the hardest she had had to work for someone before her father left was to pout and scream into her pillow. There was that time she’d had to refuse to eat until her father would buy her a particularly expensive dress, but that had been a painfully trying time in her life.

But now Amelia had to work for things, and do them herself. But whereas others, when faced with this challenge, might grow an appreciation for the skills of the professionals in their respective fields, Amelia did not. In her mind, she was just as talented, intelligent and capable as any hair stylist or cosmetologist. She did not, however, have their experience. The experience was key here. Given enough time, she could just about master anything.

But this Drykas braid was beginning to truly test her. Amelia was stumped, down heartened, and now in a terribly bad mood. She desperately wanted to stamp her feet and scream, but somehow she managed to keep her rage to herself.

That was, until she heard voices.

Voices! In the library!

Not only was it outrageous to think that someone would have a conversation in a library of all places, but surely they would have realised that Amelia was working on something crucially important! There were few things that were more important than one’s appearance, and one’s hairstyle formed a fundamental part of this.

Raising from her seat, Amelia marched over to the talking male and female and, in a loss hiss of a whisper, demanded
“Excuse me, but I am working on something terribly important over there, and your talking is not helping.” Even now her fingers worked mechanically through her hair, rehearsing and retrying that complicated technique. She gave another little frustrated grunt and yet again gave up, ”so unless one of you is a master braider, I would suggest you take your chat to a more suitable venue.”

[Duun]

Duun's voice dropped suddenly. He turned with blazing eyes to face the young woman who thought her hair was the most important thing in the library. It irked him, idiots like these, either too stupid or too heartless to care for anyone but themselves.

"Listen, dumb woman. Your hair is ugly. Your tone is uglier." Duun was a blunt as Inarta come and speaking in common made him even more so. He had no time for her to throw a fit. "You stand in room of great knowledge. Around you is history of Mizahar yet you read a tome for your hair. You are useless."

He turned back around to the books, his orangish red mane whipping at her face.

[Izuyanai]

You could be right," she said. In a more quiet tone she muttered, "If I were a ghost, I'd haunt the library as well. I can't imagine what they are so upset about." Izuyanai bent down to pick up more of the scattered books. The pages were being bent and folded. It was the least she could do to straighten them a little. As she kneeled however, the angry hiss of woman came from behind them. "Excuse me, but I am working on something terribly important over there, and your talking is not helping." Ah, the reprimand came sooner rather than later. Straightening to face to angry newcomer, Izuyanai began, "Sorry about..." "Listen, dumb woman. Your hair is ugly. And your tone is uglier." Duun's voice was low and menacing. The raven's eyes widened in alarm as she raised a brow at Duun in questioning disapproval. That was a bit... much. She tugged warningly on his sleeve as she faced the woman again. "Sorry about that. It seems you caught him on a bad day. You're being rather rude, Duun. That and no knowledge is great or petty. I think you're judging too hastily." Hopefully that would prevent any more hostilities.

[Duun]

Duun pulled his sleeve away from Izuyanai, scowling. Did she think she could tell him how to act? In Nari, he said, "I know not how much you know of the Inarta, but we are known for our blunt honesty. And for your information, knowing that a blade of grass has grown is not nearly as important as knowing that a city has fallen or a great person has died. Knowledge has value, use, repercussions. Do not doubt my thinking, little woman."

He walked away from both of them, getting a reign on his anger. The "little woman" was a manipulator. It was obvious. She fashioned herself above him, as if he was lowly.

Just then, a tome flew form a shelf, smacking him in the head. He turned to the isles only to be assaulted by several more texts. He reached for the sword beneath his cloak but he wasn't sure what to use it for. He couldn't cut apart priceless history and hand drawn maps, after all.

[Izuyanai]

Ouch. Well done, Izuyanai. Not a whole day in the city and everyone hates you. If only she had kept her mouth shut. She briefly felt the hurt flicker in her eyes before she managed to school her expression into something more neutral. All sorts of arguments, comebacks, and plans of revenge flitted through her mind, but she managed to squash them as quickly as they had formed. That wasn't right. Calmly now. No reason to be upset. The situation was tense enough as it was. As she attempted to follow Duun in order to make peace, a book flew past her ear and smacked him in the head. Surprised, Izuyanai turned around only to dodge out of the way of several more texts flying their way. Barely managing to keep her balance, she ended up kneeling on the floor. Duun was looking confused and angry reaching for his sword. "Don't draw the sword," Izuyanai said firmly. She gestured defensively with her hands when Duun sent a cold glare in her direction. "Just a friendly suggestion. It won't do much good against a spirit and you'll make them even more angry." A few moments later, an agitated voice resonated in the area. "This is a library! Your bickering is disturbing my search. Get. Out." An ethereal figure blinked up to Duun and pointed an accusing finger at him. Izuyanai goggled at the figure that had appeared. The ghost was very detailed besides the blurry edges around his figure. It was if was if someone had taken a painting and smeared the edges with water. Other than that, the raven saw a tall man with long hair tied away from his face. He wore robes and had a scholarly look around him. What was more he looked frail and deathly pale. Well, that probably had something to do with being a spirit. He certainly looked agitated enough to do more than just throw books. “Wait, wait!”, she cried. She extended her right hand out to the ghost, palm up, imploring him to consider. Izuyanai hoped to dissuade the ghost from doing anymore damage. “We’ll go but perhaps we can help you first. You said you were looking for something. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few more eyes, no?”

[Duun]

Duun fingers itched to draw his Talon, but he listened to Izuyanai, looking around feverishly for whatever ghost, ghoul, or apparition seemed to think hitting people with books was funny.

When a near transparent scholar appeared bearing accusatory words, it surprised the young Inarta. Why would such a man leave so many scrolls, books, and maps lying about? One figured that a man like him would have more respect for literature and the written word.

"Wait, wait!" Izuyanai's exclamation drew Duun's attention from the disgruntled gentleman, and he listened to her offer of assistance, a scowl forming on his face. Help him? The spirit just tried to knock him off the fourth floor of the library with books. He kept these thoughts to himself however. For now, he need not upset the ghost any further. He would let the honey worded Izuyanai handle the situation.

[Amelia]

Despite the onslaught of insults Amelia received from the redheaded male, she found herself smirking, and then chuckling. The irony of his self-righteousness was not only amusing, but indicated to Amelia just how… simple he was. She immediately pitied him, this male who for all she knew probably couldn’t even read. And then she felt appreciative of this critter, for in pitying him she felt better about her own situation. “Oh of course,” she said, her tone dripping with mean sarcasm. “you just go back to talking about how important it is to read the books around you. Of course.”

Thankfully, his female companion seemed far more sensible and human than he. Amelia smiled tightly to the other woman and threw a dismissive hand towards the redheaded male. “Don’t apologise for wild animals. They’ll shit and piss wherever they like, no matter who’s watching.” She said matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders. Quite obviously the unpleasantness of the interaction with these strangers had, if anything, brightened Amelia’s mood.

And to top it all off, when the male stalked away in a great huff of damaged masculinity, a book swiped off a shelf and knocked him right in the head. Unable to contain herself, Amelia burst out laughing. Oh, revenge was sweet, even if it had not been her who had sent the book flying! At least the spirit, who was becoming more and more real in Amelia’s eyes, was on her side. Perhaps the ghost too had a passion for Drykas hair briads?

“Thank you.” She whispered gently to the cool air around her, watching the ghost with an even and patient expression. Enough drama had happened today already, so Amelia returned to her chair, and began to once again twist strands of hair around her fingers. But as she was just about to finish the Drykas plait successfully for the first time, the pages of her book began to twitch and flick with life. The images and instructions below her changed from the Drykas-style plait to an archaic hairstyle, one that was far too complex for Amelia to attempt in the middle of a library. Nevertheless, she released her hair and lent downwards, placing her elbows on the table to read carefully about the hairstyle that the ghost had apparently wished her to see.

[Izuyanai]

The spirit suddenly seemed exhausted, fading from view by the second. Perhaps he had tired himself out? Shaking his head sadly the ghost finally disappeared from view. “Phew,” she exhaled in relief. Izuyanai stood once more and turned to contemplate Duun. The fiery haired male had complied to her request or at least he seemed calmer than before. He was not a bad man. He just seemed blind to his surroundings in his quest of brutal honesty. It was as if he were an arrow shot straight and true toward a mark. Yes, it was swift and unwavering. However the marksman pulling it seemed to be rash and volatile. One could never take back or change the course of the arrow once it flew from the bow. Izuyanai could only hope that he didn’t one day shatter himself against an immovable mountain. After all, not every one would be as forgiving as she and the woman from before. Looking toward Duun, Izuyanai sent him a smile. Judging on how badly the day had gone perhaps it was best that they mend the rift another time. She knew it wasn’t wise to go prodding fresh wounds. Nor was it wise to leave them festering. “Well that was something. Certainly exceeded my expectations in many ways. I hope to see you around, Duun. And I apologise if I offended you today.” Izuyanai gave him a small wave and walked away with that formality. Speaking of the other woman, she had taken Duun’s insults far better than Izuyanai had expected. Judging from her reaction to their racket, the raven had been wary as to how she would take Duun’s attack. The woman had said “Don’t apologise for wild animals”. Oh, the irony. If only they knew she were a Kelvic. The woman had walked back to her original place and seemed once again, to be absorbed in her text. However, she suddenly removed her hands from her hair and leaned over the book with renewed interest. How curious. On her way to the stairs, Izuyanai veered to the side towards the tables where the woman was seated. She had earlier concluded this woman was indeed an interesting character. Far different from Duun’s…well…seriousness. Leaning in cautiously from the side of the table, Izuyanai attempted to figure what this woman was so passionate about. She had earlier mentioned braids. “Did you find something interesting?” she asked.