by Seidaku on June 18th, 2011, 12:01 am
Seidaku sat at his small desk, hunched over slightly and focused on his work. Humming a song he had heard the cobbles on the street singing earlier in the day, he rubbed a thumb idly at the corner of his mouth as he thought, leaving a smudge of black ink that faded as it reached onto his cheek.
The numbers were the key. If it were possible to modify the flow of Djed to allow for an inclusion of greater specificity into the Circle, then it should theoretically be possible to -
He stood abruptly enough that he almost upended his chair when he heard the creaking of the door behind him. As he turned toward the front of his home, a wide grin blossomed on his face. He could think of only one person who would just walk in. A glance at the windows - How convenient that I have windows today, he thought idly - showed that it was rather late for visitors, though. Of course, one could not reliably tell the time of day in Alvadas using the position of the sun and stars, except for the times that you could.
"Good evening, Vhan...", his pleased greeting trailed off into confused silence when he was left facing an empty room and a widely open door with no one on the other side. "Strange," he muttered to himself as he crossed the room to his threshold, "Wind's never done that before."
Reaching the door and still seeing no one, he stepped outside into the warm evening air and peered about. The first time his gaze passed over the young girl creeping toward him, the darkness hid her from his view, but on a second pass, he gave an obvious start at seeing his apparent visitor, barely visible in the light glowing faintly in the room behind him.
Blinking rapidly, he managed to recover himself enough to stammer, "Oh, hello, umm... miss. I'm sorry, I did not, umm, see you there."
His first impression was that she was positively gaunt. Poor thing must be more than half starved, was the first thought that came to mind. His second impression was, of course, that she was pointing a knife at him.
Later, if he ever had a chance to tell the story, he would have liked to have been able to say he responded valiantly. That he simply plucked the knife from her fingers. Perhaps that the sharpness of his tongue and the keenness of his mind left her amazed and incapable of doing him harm.
However, he did none of these things. Instead, he gave a panicked shout that was more of a scream and backpedaled into his home, tripping over his own legs to land sprawled several feet from his still open door.