56th of Ymiden 721
There were precious many perks to belonging to the Academy as a paying student. One could enjoy some regular exercise at the Fitness Center, which in his time Zemos had afforded himself a trip or two. There was the classroom setting and learning opportunities, arguably the best perk. But lesser mentioned, but not at any rate least among them was access to the third ward of the Prime Atheneum. Let the lesser worms crawl through texts of basic instruction in the matters of history and humanity. On the third level, the divine was exposed to compound eyes.
It was at this level that Zemos found himself wandering in mid-afternoon on the sixth trial of Ymiden. He was browsing, on the urging of Mervani that he take a more active role in independent learning. So he took it seriously, this task. Not only for the sake of uncovering old secret arcana regarding Necromancy, and the other arts. No, he also wished to uncover hidden connections between all of the aspects of nature that interested him. Between Pestilence, toxin, necromancy, the dead, the living, and the Divine. The Egg hummed contentedly as he picked through the tomes that most interested him.
He'd found a particularly fruitful 'vein' of knowledge in the back corner of the library. Not far from where those two guardsmen stood watch over a restricted area of the library. Zemos had often cast his eyes in that direction, jealousy curious at what wonders lie beyond it. Yet for now, he was content to exhaust his search for knowledge in the tomes he had access to in the third level. His fingers traced the spines of books. Curiously, he traced them, wondering how many had been eaten by bookworms and other such maggots and unchrysalized insects. He almost thought to volunteer his services as a poisoner of these bugs, to help preserve the knowledge. However, when he worked up the nerve to ask, the Egg shut down that impulse with a sharp pain in his insides. He hadn't thought to ask them since, if they'd require his services in that regard.
His finger hopped and trailed along the leatherbound spines of the books. Until they met with one book that was turned inward. In a fit of serendipitous appeal, Zemos decided this was one book that he would read, whatever happened to be inside of it. He pulled it carefully from the shelf, replacing the other books to make sure they didn't come dislodged. Then, he turned it around to read the spine. It began with the letter L, imprinted upon its leatherbound jacket. But the rest of the letters were either too obscure, or in a different script that he wasn't familiar with. Furrowing his brow, he opened the book, reading the first few passages to hit his eyes. Much to his chagrin, it was in a different language. Not in Common, nor Xanthean, nor even the Ancient script that he sometimes caught Sophia studying. He scratched his head, and flipped through the pages, trying to find anything that might pop out as legible. Nothing, so far.
He sighed, and clapped the book shut. Yet there was a part of him which wished to investigate it further. Unconsciously, he kept the book by his side, and carried it over toward where he knew Sophia to be pursuing her studies of blood magic. On the other side of the third tier of the Atheneum.
There were precious many perks to belonging to the Academy as a paying student. One could enjoy some regular exercise at the Fitness Center, which in his time Zemos had afforded himself a trip or two. There was the classroom setting and learning opportunities, arguably the best perk. But lesser mentioned, but not at any rate least among them was access to the third ward of the Prime Atheneum. Let the lesser worms crawl through texts of basic instruction in the matters of history and humanity. On the third level, the divine was exposed to compound eyes.
It was at this level that Zemos found himself wandering in mid-afternoon on the sixth trial of Ymiden. He was browsing, on the urging of Mervani that he take a more active role in independent learning. So he took it seriously, this task. Not only for the sake of uncovering old secret arcana regarding Necromancy, and the other arts. No, he also wished to uncover hidden connections between all of the aspects of nature that interested him. Between Pestilence, toxin, necromancy, the dead, the living, and the Divine. The Egg hummed contentedly as he picked through the tomes that most interested him.
He'd found a particularly fruitful 'vein' of knowledge in the back corner of the library. Not far from where those two guardsmen stood watch over a restricted area of the library. Zemos had often cast his eyes in that direction, jealousy curious at what wonders lie beyond it. Yet for now, he was content to exhaust his search for knowledge in the tomes he had access to in the third level. His fingers traced the spines of books. Curiously, he traced them, wondering how many had been eaten by bookworms and other such maggots and unchrysalized insects. He almost thought to volunteer his services as a poisoner of these bugs, to help preserve the knowledge. However, when he worked up the nerve to ask, the Egg shut down that impulse with a sharp pain in his insides. He hadn't thought to ask them since, if they'd require his services in that regard.
His finger hopped and trailed along the leatherbound spines of the books. Until they met with one book that was turned inward. In a fit of serendipitous appeal, Zemos decided this was one book that he would read, whatever happened to be inside of it. He pulled it carefully from the shelf, replacing the other books to make sure they didn't come dislodged. Then, he turned it around to read the spine. It began with the letter L, imprinted upon its leatherbound jacket. But the rest of the letters were either too obscure, or in a different script that he wasn't familiar with. Furrowing his brow, he opened the book, reading the first few passages to hit his eyes. Much to his chagrin, it was in a different language. Not in Common, nor Xanthean, nor even the Ancient script that he sometimes caught Sophia studying. He scratched his head, and flipped through the pages, trying to find anything that might pop out as legible. Nothing, so far.
He sighed, and clapped the book shut. Yet there was a part of him which wished to investigate it further. Unconsciously, he kept the book by his side, and carried it over toward where he knew Sophia to be pursuing her studies of blood magic. On the other side of the third tier of the Atheneum.
