Wright Memorial Library
Early afternoon
13th day of Winter, 512 AV
Early afternoon
13th day of Winter, 512 AV
The day was peaceful for Laioath. Standing in the library, he looks around in every direction. He hasn’t been in the library for a long time. He used to come here a lot during his childhood. He’d visit his sister as she studied, and would read about simple lores. He found reading books became a joy and enjoyed Learn odd things. Nostalgia fills his heart as he thought about his treasured childhood moments. He hoists his backpack into a comfortable position and snaps himself out of his reverie.
He begins to furrow his brows as he thought about what he wanted to read. He begins to move in a vague direction to see what he’d come across. His footsteps echo throughout the library, so he changes pace to a slower one. Walking past each aisle of books, he alternates his head back and forth, trying to see each book he pasts. So far he sees different books about Sylira’s past, and books at explained Mizahar’s cataclysm. He continues walking, looking out for books that captured his interest. Every aisle he pasts the books got older, and older. He stops walking as he found himself near the second tier of the library, he knew from experience he is not allowed there. He makes a turn a head in the opposite direction.
As Laioath walks back, still scanning for a book, he comes across a peculiar aisle. The aisle was like any other, but for some reason he feels a reason to walk into there. He begins to through the pathway, looking left and right at each shelf. A book titled “The moving stone” was sitting on top shelf. The book drew Laioath’s attention and soon became his target. He looks up at the book that towers over him. He goes to grab the book. Standing on the very tips of his toes, he stretches out his arm, as his hand made grabbing gesture. It was no good. The book is out of his grasp. Retracting his hand and standing in a neutral position, he takes of his bag and begins rummaging through it. He was looking for his brush, it could give him the extra reach he needed. Searching through the bag he moves aside parchments and his toolkit. He found what he was looking for and attempts to get the book once again. He tries again in the same position, except with brush in hand. He tries to nudge the book of the shelf, and prepared for it descent. He prods the side of the book multiple time, determine to read what wonder is has to offer. The book slowly meets the edge of the shelf until… it drops.
Laioath was caught off guard, despite his preparation. He drops his brush and attempts to catch in his arms. He franticly calculates when the book is going to land. The book falls into his arms but bounces out. Laioath’s reflex made his arms stretch out and clamp on the book with both hands. Panting heavily from the adrenaline rushing through him, he picks up his brush and places back in his bag. He breathes slowly, inhaling though his nose, and exhaling out of his mouth. His rush begins to dissipates, and his breath returns to normal. Laioath walks out of the aisle and starts looking around for a desk to read.