3rd of Spring, 516AV
The library in the Respite was of course much smaller than the Bharani. Still, it was quiet and had comfortable work spaces with a relaxing view of the wintry garden outside. A quantity of tall bookshelves lined the majority of the room, creating a maze of sorts. They acted as walls, shielding narrow isles from sight and protected the quiet that prevailed in the room. There were only a few people lounging in chairs with their faces buried in books. Occasionally, the barely audible whisper of a page or two turning would fill the room.
Izuyanai had already deposited her belongings on a large table pushed up beside the window and had wandered off to collect the books she had been suggested.
Apparently these were essential to those considering learning magic. The raven assumed they must be basic concepts and ideas. The way they were talked about seemed to hint at them being the very founding ideology of magic. That would be helpful in her case as she had never had the chance to study magic in such a fashion.
A few copies of Magic and I, and the Treval Codex were found easily enough. Apprehensively weighing the heavy tomes in her hands, Izuyanai picked the Common translations and returned to her desk.
Carefully turning the pages of the Treval Codex, the raven proceeded to read the very first paragraph. Whoever had copied this book had unbelievably neat handwriting. It wasn't as elaborate as the more decoratively calligraphed texts but the letters were simple and well formed. However, the confusing thing was when she reached the second paragraph. It felt as though she had opened another book or had at least skipped a few pages.
The next paragraph had started as a telling of a myth or legend. From what she had seen in the first few lines of the book, Izuyanai had been under the impression that the Codex would be an essay style book. Skimming through the body of the text, she discovered that the writings were divided into paragraph form. What was more, the rest of the book carried on in the same illogical manner where there was no fluid reasoning from one page to the next.
After absentmindedly thumbing through the pages, the raven balanced the tome on the edge of the table and reached down to rummage in her pack. An idea had struck her.
Drawing out a file full of parchment, she placed them on the table along with her quill and ink.
A black feather, naturally. It was sensible of her to use such a thing.
She could copy the book down for her own reference. As long as she was going through the process, she might as well arrange the contents in a more comprehensible order.
Flipping out a dainty knife, Izuyanai trimmed the tip of the black quill into a satisfactory end. Dipping the sharpened point into the ink bottle, the raven dabbed away the excess liquid in order to make the first few strokes. Her own handwriting was usually very hurried and messy. Letters ran into each other like the rain droplets smattering the skyglass. The thin thread of ink tangled into knots and was carelessly cut at strange intervals. The raven didn't care ordinarily. What was important was that the writing got put onto paper. However this time, she felt chastised by the unknown copier with immaculate skills. Carefully she copied that first paragraph onto the sheaf of paper.
A calm scratching sound was added to the ambience as the letters were formed. The initial sheen of wet ink on parchment receded as the material soaked up the words, and the first few sentences took shape. Straight line, even size, and even space, she paced herself, running the instructions over in her mind in a loop and constant reminder.
The book went on to discuss things such as the distinction of magic, laws of djed, overgiving, wizard philosophy, and legends and myths meant to teach firm lessons.
Deciding to categorise by theme and style of writing, the beginnings of orderly stacks started appearing on the table around the Kelvic. With Izuyanai as the epicentre, any onlooker might have thought she was taking up more than her fair share of space. This would have been true if the library had been more crowded. As it was, the tranquility of the place continued as the light shifted behind the skyglass.
What the book had to say about djed was very informative. The raven had never quite been able to put her finger on the meaning or accurate description of it. It had always just been the concept that made her as she was. Why a pebble was so different from a droplet of water. It was encouraging, however, to see that she wasn't too far off in her understanding.
Djed meant "backbone" in what the book called the ancient tongue. She had to agree that someone had chosen the fitting vocabulary. With countless forms and characteristics, djed really was the backbone for the world she knew. That meant that those who control djed, wizards, had the power to bend reality. That power was magic.
There did appear to be a few rules, however. Djed could not be created or destroyed, only transformed. There were different levels of purity in djed, with a sentient person's being purer than an inanimate object's. Finally, some transformations were irreversible. A rather ominous rule if a certain context were to be applied.
What Izuyanai enjoyed reading the most, however, were the paragraphs detailing philosophical encounters and the various stories centering on magic. The myths were entertaining stories at first glance, but grew to hold complex meanings the more one questioned it. At times, the confusing work proved frustrating, and there were more than a few stories the raven decided she would have to come back to.
The dangers of overgiving were further reinforced in Magic and I as she worked to copy it into a bound journal rather than loose parchment. Izuyanai loved the tone of this author. There was that ironic cynicism, though she detected true sadness and regret seeping through the words on the pages. Bending reality to one’s will came at a price. Something she needed to consider carefully if she were to continue on this path. Even so, there were countless times when the raven pressed her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh.
Pausing in her work, Izuyanai fussed over the neatness of the accumulating stacks and arranged them in proper order. It had already gotten dark and looking around yielded one person dozing in a couch not far off. Izuyanai noted that a journal was steadily slipping toward the floor from their loosened grip.
It was nearly time for her shift at the Scholar's Demise and she would have to continue her work tomorrow. Pushing back her chair, Izuyanai scattered a few crumpled pieces of parchment as she stood. Parchments ruined with a careless mistake or offending smear of ink. The kelvic bent down to collect them and strode over to the low fire. As she tossed them in, the fire flared briefly as it eagerly ate up the fuel, pushing back the shadows for a brief moment before settling back to its previous lull.
Carefully flapping the last page she had been working on in order to dry the ink, Izuyanai stacked the papers and scraped together her belongings, finally making her way to drop them off in her dorm. |
|
by Izuyanai on May 4th, 2016, 12:46 pm 
