@tomestudyholic asked: "..." A new librarian, huh? She understood why the monastery decided to add some extra staff to the library group - so many more students than were here when the year started, but still, when she heard the news, she wasn't sure what to expect of the person she would likely annoy half to death on accident pursuing any way to further her research. Any way to fix herself. But this... He wasn't what she expected. He was like if someone like Ferdinand or Dimitri had the affixations she did - noble still in appearance, yet still frail as could come. No scarring she could see, however. Lucky. She almost wanted to reach out, but she held back. He wouldn't appreciate that, no doubt. One step at a time. "So, you're the new librarian. I expect you'll be seeing a lot of me in due time, but I'll stay out of your way for the most part." Shaking her head, she lays a hand on his desk, pale skin shining against the hardwood finish. "If I can ask, did you bring any tomes with you from wherever your home is? Knowledge here in the library is usually pretty... Fodlan-centric, and I imagine our main librarian being from here doesn't help that much." Not that she meant any harm to Tomas. Ignoring the part where he was from her family's territory, he somehow never broke from her keeping in his area so often, books strewn as she failed her research again and again. Tomas was amazing. So why wouldn't the academy hire someone equally as good as him?
※— CHILD, YOU LOOK FOR EMPATHY WHERE IT DIES.
"Much appreciated. Though if you frequent the library, might I have your name?" He could pretend to press it like flowers between worn parchment and ease her into the dark crevice of a book almost closed. His gaze trailed the curve of her hand on the desk—how starkly it stood out, alabaster against oiled wood. Strange how something could look both breakable and determined.
A smile, brief. Not dismissive, but the brand that was weak after a day's work.
"Most students ask where things are. You ask what isn’t here." He tilted his head, considering. "Good question."
One hand dipped beneath the desk, returning with a slim, foreign-bound codex. The language was sharp, precise. Ancient script of a province no longer named on most maps.
"I didn’t bring much. Just what I thought I wouldn’t find here. A few Eastern texts. One treatise on planar thresholds. And this—"
He slid the book toward her with an almost imperceptible nod.
"—which mentions a theory on congenital magic saturation. It was banned, briefly. Poor framing. But it might interest someone like you."
Pause. Just long enough.
"I don’t believe in hiding answers. But I do believe in earning them."
He leaned back slightly, not unkind. Watching.
“Let’s see if you do.”
