Flayn and Ănna || A dragons hoard
Flayn carefully opened the library door, peaking through the small gap she had made, the student had done this time and time again, wishing for a moment of quiet to speak to the Churches ânewestâ arrival. Ănna had not been at the Monastery long and the student desperately wished to have a moment in which to speak alone with him privately. It had been a thousand years since she had been able to speak with Macuil and it was rather vexing she hadnât managed to catch him alone yet.
She enjoyed her life as Flayn, without a question of a doubt. It allowed her freedoms that she hadnât had since she was a child and it gave her a way to put the terrors she had suffered behind her. Though there were many things it had taken away from her. Her fathers ability to actually act as one and now, the inability to be open with her uncle. She had missed him after all and there was much to catch up on. Content that the various staff were far enough away from Macuilâs perch, Flayn finally pushed the door wide open, skipping up to the table that Macuil had covered in various books.
âGood afternoon, Ănna, it's been quite a while!"
@thecallinggale
let-flayn-cook
Oh dear, he really had not changed at all, had he? Her uncle and her father clearly held some sort of issue with each other. Though Macuil was busy playing with the many books he had amassed, Flayn found herself rather un-amused with his little horde and down right frustrated that the two had clearly had some spat and she had heard nothing of it. They hadnât seen each other for over a thousand years. Theyâd watched their people lose a war and their lives together, including the people they loved, was that not enough to forget old wounds and petty arguments. She didnât even know what it was about, Cichol being secretive as he was. Disappointment was all she could feel. They had more family here at Garreg Mach than they had experienced since the war. Finally, they were all coming together.
âYou know, cousin, I was.â She smiled quite widely, snatching the book out of his hand to examine the spell he had been attempting before. It was such a bold spell to try, indoors no less. âThough apparently, I am to now find out what you and my brother have argued about.â If Macuil expected her to behave less childish, then he was sorely mistaken.
In an attempts to force information out of him, Flayn kept a good grip on the book in hand, quickly turning away from him in hopes that it would prevent him from taking it back. âWhile you tell me, I shall familiarise myself with whatever beast of a spell you were trying to complete!â
His questioning âWas?â was cut short by the book disappearing from his hands. Or in this case, was stolen from his hands. Any sort of response he was trying to muster came out in a fumbled attempt at words while he listened to his dear niece demand to know very personal business between him and her father. She had guts, though he figured his systematic intimidation of any of those rotten children had no effect on her. It didnât make the event any less surprising.
âNow where did you learn to do that?â He questioned at last with a breathy laugh, extending a hand to summon the book back to him. And yet another surprise, the book offered no response. The only way thatâd not work is its holder resistance to magic was high. She was an adolescent by their racesâ standards, so it couldnât be that high. This Flayn was full of surprises, it seemed. He lowered his arm in defeat and walked closer behind her.
âFlayn, dear, the little squabbles between me and Se⊠your brother-â He didnât bother attempting his name while discreetly trying to reach around her for the book, continuing, âare not of any business you need to worry about. Itâs not overly important in any way, so if you could just hand me back that tome...â












