Closed Kindred in Faith (Minnim)

-- but not in much else.

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

Kindred in Faith (Minnim)

Postby Marion Kay on September 18th, 2015, 9:47 pm

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15 Fall 515 AV
Around the 17th Bell
The Valkalah Library

There was a certain comfort to be found in the warm glow of the lanterns and the dry, almost floral scent of old paper. It smelled like history, she thought, and of her father's study where he'd kept his rows of sketchbooks and documents. It lacked the same bittersweet tinge of paint, of course, but it conjured the memory easily nonetheless, and with it the dual and conflicting sense that she was both at home and out of place. She didn't belong here, surely. She resigned herself to that fact every time she stepped through the heavy wooden doors that marked the library's entrance.

Something oppressive lingered in the air, the weight of hundreds of years systematically stacked and ordered, bearing down upon her shoulders. A reminder that this was the unseen enemy she was tasked to conquer. Control. Structure. It was an abstract pressure, one she so often failed to properly address. She had tried before, at the library in Zeltiva, rearranging shelves to her whimsical desire in an attempt to inject some life into its veins, to return it to a more natural, more healthy state of being. It was ineffective, of course, a task doomed to be undone, though she did idly wonder if there was still a book on goat-care sitting, forgotten and untouched after these couple years, in the maps section.

But that wasn't important now. Today she browsed the rooms for their intended purpose. Her attentions were fixated on a single purpose. It was a rare happening, that Marion would have one goal in mind, but while it was curiosity that left her hands to trail across the spines of books and mouth their titles as she passed, it was with a sense of drive that she kept moving. She shifted fluidly from one aisle to another, searching, letting her fingertips trace idle patterns across leather and wood alike. She stooped for a moment, bending to examine a lower shelf. Her brow furrowed in a look a distaste and she straightened to glare at the upper shelves for a moment. Finding nothing in the way of what she sought, she pursed her lips and roamed to the next shelf, her boots tapping a light rhythm that belied her growing frustration.

She had rifled through the Religion section for nearly half a bell, her coat slung over her shoulder and shelves of books left in varying states of disarray in her wake. It was some small way to vent her irritation, leaving volumes tilted at wrong angles or pulled out slightly further than their neighbors. Some even laid on their sides across the tops of rows from where she'd lifted them completely from their resting places to thumb through their indexes. Marion had wanted to find one book -- just one book -- specific to her goddess. She felt she could be afforded that much, when the patron gods of the city seemed to have entire walls worth of tomes dedicated to them. Even Sylir had at least thirty works to his name -- she'd counted them absently as she swiftly shuffled past, having to ignore that portion of the aisle lest she find herself doing something that would get her escorted from the building.

What were you expecting? she chided herself, and rightfully, as she freed another book from its snug home, and, with a flutter of paper, flipped through it in blind exasperation before setting it back down with a too-audible thunk. She'd come to the conclusion some time ago that she wouldn't find any written works on Ssena. She'd scoured the Sunken Conundrum those few years ago to no avail, and had been met similarly in Zeltiva. It was the assumption that this city's library was no different that had kept her from trying before, when she had more pressing matters to attend than sifting through room after room for knowledge that they may or (more likely) may not contain. And yet she'd hoped that a year was long enough to wait; that perhaps, by now, the scholars of the world had pieced together enough information for her to find. She should have known better than to trust hope. The information simply did not exist, and if it did it was so obscure that Marion wasn't sure it hadn't been based strictly on hearsay or rumor.
Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy.
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Marion Kay
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Kindred in Faith (Minnim)

Postby Minnim on September 20th, 2015, 4:26 am

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The sounds of the library were quiet, but they were a certain kind of music to the listening ear.

The rhythmic thud of heavy boots on the floor kept the beat. The crinkling sound of old pages as they shifted past one another provided a gentle harmony, always singing in the background. And the melody was taken by the swishing of Minnim's long black cloak as he moved through the aisles- up and down, up and down.

He was not searching for anything in particular that day; he only knew that he wanted to learn something. He needed to give himself a small reprieve from the morning. Ever since Minnim woke, he had been tired and frustrated. He had wasted his day searching for a specific color of fabric all throughout his room that he was now convinced he had run out of. The act of misremembering something was so mundane, so simplistic, it irritated the Nuit to be bothered with such matters. He had better things to do- like read, and learn.

So, Minnim found himself in the library, prepared to do just that.

He shuffled through the aisles, tilting his head to view the books as he passed. There were books here that held valuable information, he knew. But most he saw were hardly good enough to be considered books at all. They were journals. They were rumors, gossip, and incomprehensible notes scribbled on paper. They held almost as much weight as a beggar's word might.

The old man shifted over to the section on religion. It was a topic he knew little about, so there may be some basic knowledge worth his time there. But when he arrived, he found the section in shambles. Books lay everywhere; some with their covers down on the ground, others tilted at an angle that they would never fall into naturally. Some books were even laying still open to whatever page the last visitor had checked. He nosed through several of these books at random, each one thicker and more nonsensical than the last. Finally thoroughly frustrated, Minnim sat himself on the floor with several of the books in his lap. He set most of them aside, but left one in his lap for inspection. He should at least be able to get something out of one of them, he supposed.

Though irritated by the quality of material, Minnim still found himself comforted by the relative peace in the room. He may not find any knowledge there, but it was still a place of education, and therefore automatically of higher status than most places. It was just as he was noting the calmness of the room that he heard it.

The sound of books clunking, pages shuffling, and then the weighted clunk of a book being placed haphazardly on a shelf echoed through the room. Minnim scowled to himself at the interruption, but let it be, simply pulling his hood over his head to block out the sound. He didn't have time to be bothered. Instead, he continued his scouring of the books.

Now, which one of them would contain something worth his time? That was the question, and he was determined to find out.
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