[Memorial Library] In Plain View (Valo)

[Ignotus Everto]

38th of Winter, 512AV

Ignotus Everto had a problem. That problem was that Zeltiva had a problem. That problem was that plague and pestilence were raging through the city unchecked, leaving untold casualties in its wake. While Ignotus, being a walking corpse, was effectively immune to disease, there were others valuable to him that were not. Wrenmae, for instance, though he never seemed to get ill, Gale McCenry, the poisoner Nadea, Samantha Slate, Ricky Maze, and the list went on. In addition, the wizard had great plans for his city, and those plans required prestige. So it was time to do something for the greater good.

So here he was, at the Wright Memorial Library, sitting on a desk, surrounded by a small stack of books, the most current census he could find on his lap. At the moment, he was perusing the D's. To be precise, he was looking for DuFarro. Sagallius' task was still on his mind, and Ignotus was more than willing to kill two birds with one stone. Unfortunately, there wasn't an Anar in sight. He wasn't in Zeltiva, then. The census was snapped away and set to his left, and replaced with a record of the recent trip to Sahova from the stack to his right.

There were a few very specific coincidences that had gone unnoticed by most, but stuck out to Ignotus like a sore thumb. Coincidences that could be extrapolated on. Coincidences that could be used to find the Blighter. And that was precisely what Ignotus was going to do.

[Valo]

With the murder of Kip still very much on his mind, the mysterious disease that struck down man after man, there seemed to be no end to the terrible events that befell Zeltiva. The beloved city of his. If there was anything to be done by the simple artist to aid his home, he would do it, he would go to the greatest of lengths to protect it. Of course he also didn't really know what there was to be done. Not a detective, not a healer, but merely an artist. It seemed that the task at hand was to wait with his arms crossed upon his chest and wait for a saviour. But Valo was restless and perhaps it was that restlessness that brought him to the Wright Memorial Library. Some seek comfort in books. He didn't come here often, despite his love for reading. Often he'd tell him self that he had too much work, for the artist's hands are relentlessly busy. Though often he'd find him self work, of any nature, just to avoid the library. Valo didn't really like to admit it, but every time he looked upon the university, it brought back the bitter taste of shame. The cruel memory of that faithful mistake he had made upon arriving in Zeltiva and again it reminded him of the goal that now remained out of his reach once more. Things change and people change with them, was the realisation as he stepped though the door and into the vast interior which could be loosely described as heaven of knowledge. "What to read, what to read?" murmured Valo beneath his breath as his eyes scoured isle after isle for perhaps a title that might catch his eyes, for he wasn't really quite sure that is was that he searched for. Which elaborate cover could cure his restlessness? The red haired artist passed a statue of Gnora the goddess of order, a patron of the library before his eyes momentarily ripped away from scouring the books and lay on something a little different. Small print that described a record of a journey to Sehova, a place that interested him somewhat, if only in a written format. And it was upon a quick scan on that record did he realise quite how interesting the man who'd been reading it seemed. Perched on a desk nonchalantly, scanning though writing after writing in the very mannerism of someone perhaps a little troubled. "Are you searching for something sir." asked Valo quietly, stepping around the table to further examine the texts beside the individual. He was feeling perhaps a little bolder than he'd otherwise be in his condition, but that was the magic of the books. Ah how he missed the Enclave and the glorious childhood days he'd spend surrounded by it's contents.

[Ignotus Everto]

It took several ticks for Ignotus to react to the question. He didn't look up from the book, nor did he show any sign of having heard Valo. Instead, he simply muttered absently in response, "The plague."

Hadrian lived in Zeltiva all his life. He was not the Blighter. Rayage too, was not the Blighter. He had been a professor for too long.

A volume containing the list of entrances during the Spring of 512 seemingly jumped off of the stack and threw itself at Valo of its own accord. Of course, in reality, an astral arm had chucked the book, but the only evidence of that was the fact that Ignotus' right arm had gone completely limp. For Ignotus, fusing the outermost layer of his soul back to his bones and skin was clumsy, but successful in the end. And he didn't need to look away from his book!

"You want to be helpful, tell me the names of everyone who moved into Zeltiva this Spring." Ignotus said dispassionately. If Valo didn't start talking in the next chime, he'd get an irate "Hurry up!"

[Valo]

The plague eh? Was he some kind of a healer? Though it was a little strange hos they weren't medical books that the man was reading, but public records, thought Valo in his usual manner of analysis. Though perhaps there was a deeper meaning to all of this, perhaps a search for the root cause of the plague. Though that didn't really add up either. What use was the cause in the fight against disease? Would rooting it out really do any good when the plague reeked havoc like nobody's business? What was this man's plan? So many questions haunted the young artist. Suddenly out of nowhere a thick volume threw it self off the shelf and hit Valo on the shoulder, before dropping with a muffled thud onto the floor. Yet, that is precisely what happened, though at first he didn't quite believe it either. And if he had perhaps repeated this story to anyone, they would not have believe him either. But the artist had grown quite accustomed to magic though his friendship with Reaver and indeed quite fond of the art either, so he presumed that's precisely what it was. Some mystical use of djed. Perhaps the man before him was also a mage. In fact that was almost certainly the case. "You want to be helpful, tell me the names of everyone who moved into Zeltiva this Spring." demanded the man,though his voice was void of anything but the subtle manifestation of his concentration. An impassive voice of a man buried in his thoughts. With a brief glance, he gracefully picked up the book and began reading. And Valo couldn't quite explain why he plainly obeyed the stranger. Perhaps it was just instinct, an interest in the common goal the two shared. Interest in any scraps of information he could grasp his hands of, for the artist's curiosity knew no boundaries. Name after name after name, quite as impassively his voice ran as the man's who's orders he was fallowing. And not surprisingly his own name was on the list. 45th Spring 512AV - Valo of Wind Reach Once he articulated a good hundred names or so, a slender finger on the page to keep his place,a question formed on his lips. "What good is this? What exactly are you searching for?"