Interlude MXLIII: Tales Wondrous and True
Tales Wondrous and True
Thirtieth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
It was not that Yrael did not enjoy wine, nor even revelry in moderation, but as the midnight hour drew near, moderation seemed to grow ever scarcer among the folk taking advantage of the coronation to mingle and to dance, to eat drink and me merry. A bit too merry in some places. He had never considered sight that could pierce as far by starlight as by noonday sunlight before to be a burden, but when the dark corners some of the guests were using in lieu of their own beds were less than dark and secluded... Well, it would probably be best for all concerned for him to find a well lit place to spend the rest of the might, preferably a well lit place inside.
Fortunately, he did not have to look far. As a visiting high lord of the Imperium, the palace was open to him. He could just take the chance to catch up on his reading, maybe on some of the reports about the Deep Ones. They were not a common threat in Mantarys, it was true, but if the day ever came for them to march to war, they would not find it hard to attack the city and he knew far less of them than threats closer to hand. No, no, no, it's a celebration. If I let it be known that I spent it reading about enemies and monsters, I will never hear the end of it, and rightly so. You can drown in work as much as wine.
So it was that Yrael of Mantarys found himself searching through the palace library, not for any book on precious arcane lore or the secrets of the Farthest Realm, but instead simple adventure novels of the sort that populated salons across Esssos. There was something comforting about reading the simple narratives of good triumphing over evil, of heroes overcoming all odds to earn their just rewards. Not because he thought that was reflective of how the world must turn, but because it spoke of the inclination of the human spirit to believe such things. In a way he supposed it was all of a piece with the revelry whose sounds drifted in through the high windows. After all, how many were now living their own personal adventure stories out there this very moment, in the land of magic, in the shadow of dragons...
As Yrael turned a corner, he found to his surprise that he was not alone in this corner of the library. A young red-haired girl, obviously a noble from her manner of dress, was perched on a ladder and looking through a shelf of Myrish novels. Likely hearing his steps, she asked in the Common Tongue of Westeros, "Excuse me, but can you tell me where the history books are, actual history I mean, not foolish made up stories?"
Normally, Yrael would have simply pointed her at some of the more public history texts in the palace, but there was something about her tone, a bitterness that did not belong on the lips of one so young, that gave him pause. "Made up, I will grant, though even the most fantastical tale is built upon the bones of some truth. I would know, but why do you call books you have not yet foolish?"
She turned to look at him and almost slipped off the stair at the sight of him. "I... I'm sorry. I did not mean- I thought you were a servant."
The archon gently reached over to hold the stair steady. "I suppose I am a servant in a not one but two ways," he replied. "I am a servant of the realm as are all those who hold high administrative office, Yrael of Mantarys, at your service my lady. Might I ask what sort of history you are seeking?"
"Sansa Stark, a pleasure to meet you, er... my lord." the child introduced herself, obviously caught between speaking at once and getting off the ladder so she could 'do it properly' by the measure of her own folk.
Although Yrael would not have normally troubled himself with titles, it was clear she wanted a title to call him by, preferably one that did not leave her thinking of his wings. "Imperial Governors are usually styled 'Your Excellency', but my name works just as well."
She nodded, stepping off the stair entirely, nervously smoothing her dress. "I was looking for old history, as old as it gets, the War of the Dawn."
It was not very hard to guess why a Stark would be looking for that, or why a servant might have directed her towards something that was not locked behind enough wards to need a small army of baatezu to breach. Most would have just patted her on the head and sent her on her way with some vague promise never to be fulfilled, but grief was a bitter thing, not least in the bitterness one was like to feel. In this one thing he could arrange for her to get some answers, even if they would not be the ones she most hoped for. The Lord of Mantarys could think of at least one tome that was both true and far enough removed from the worst of the tragedy, safe enough for a child to read.
"I know where you can find a few," Yrael replied as he lead the girl deeper into the palace.
OOC: In the end I decided not to make Sansa any sort of mage, though she will come out as the sort of aristocrat with class skills in arcana and planes form all the reading she has done. Yrael's love for adventure novels just felt like nice characterization.
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. Like all Celestials, I'm sure the pain is still just as fresh as if it were yesterday. And a Desecration of such magnitude...
