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Forgive not the son…
The building echoed with a shrill peal of laughter and the startled cry of a dozen pages as Historian Daeldus, in his uncensored gaiety for the moment had jumped aboard a book cart and had begun racing it down the many isles of the library.
The old scholars eccentricities were no news to the attendants in the library, such things became more frequent as the culmination of his research neared, but it seemed that once one had become nearly acclimatized to the brilliant mans oddities his mind would squeeze out a few more drops of mischief that threw all the attendants, save for the most senior who never paid any more attention to them, into disarray.
”You can’t catch me! I have at more than seventy years head start on you all!”howled Daeldus to the pages that puffed behind him as he took another corner at a startling speed, the wheels chattering in protest with every rotation.”Come on lads, we have only gone around the back wall and you are already tuckered out? Put your spines into it or are you not going to put up a fight to this old man!?!”the Historian laughed again before dismounting his four-wheeled steed with a summersault far more spry than any being his considerable age should have been able to manage, allowing the cart to shoot onwards to shatter upon one of the many pillars that supported the library’s roof. The pages that had trailed forward with renewed energy as if they expected to find his broken body concealed within the snapped lumber.
”And who might you be m’lady?” The Historian said with a lavish bow to the young, gaudily dressed women before him, gardening book in hand. ”And what might this humble scholar do for you this fine and dreary day?”
-x-X-x-
The library was busier today, more people entered in rapid succession than Iktinos had seen pass through the doors in the previous three months. What impending apocalyptic event could pull them from the deep pits of excess and debauchery that the social elite called ‘parties’ to try and gasp at some frail strands of knowledge?
He had not paid the first one any heed, the exuded the pompous air of the aristocracy and, especially after her blunt declaration, he had not patience to deal with a creature as self centered as she, it was a job he easily seconded to one of the lesser pages, he had important book filing to do as far away from the ego encroaching presence as he could find.
The second and the third he did not notice until he returned to the entrance to call upon the several pages that lounged about to begin organizing the scattered materials the various scholars that occupied this place left scattered about so that the might actually be found again. They conversed in slightly guarded tones, one a seemingly androgynous creature clothed in something just short of rags compared to the far more flamboyant woman who seemed to be speaking more animatedly. He consciously forced himself to hear none of their words, for unless their conversation surmounted in an exchange of blows he had no motivation to go out of his way to interfere with the inconsequential affairs of others. He moved off to help the other glorified maids that hoped to learn the knowledge of the masters’ research through osmotic process.
He did not notice the third ones appearance until he returned to the entrance, a flaming book in one hand and two young lords hoisted by their collars in the other like disobedient pups. He paid the still milling ground no mind as he kicked open a side door and unceremoniously hurled the two into one of the many large puddles on the street.
"If you come back here and deface one of these texts again with your vile scrawlings I will be incinerating more than just books!"Iktinos roared down to them with all the rage of a dragon awakening only to find its treasure being plundered before expelling the still flaming tome after them and slamming the door shut before they could begin threatening him with the meaningless political power of their families.
He turned upon the gathering group, long, grey, wood-smoke smelling robes swishing gently before fixing each of them with a whithering stare as if challenging one of them to question his actions as he towered above them, some only by sheer aura of malevolence. Finally he opened his mouth.
"So, I see you quite a few of you are here."called a singsong voice that made it sound as if the giant before them had swallowed one of the scrawney pages whole and he was quite content in his new home."And I see you have returned Miss Belladonna, I hope you didn't leave something behind? Anyways, I see you have all met my assistant Iktinos, please, don't let his demeanor fool you he wouldn't harm a fly." It seemed quite credible, the man currently exuded such an aura of rage, despite the whimsical voice that spoke for him, that it was likely nothing short of a giant rabid beast might have caused the man concern.
"But I am sure you all have come bearing questions, or in Miss Belladonna's case, more. Please feel free to use any of the books, ask any of the pages, Iktinos or myself for assistance. For those of you who do not know me I am Daeldus the Historian, and I do hope we will all become close friends, yes? I believe the pages should have finished clearing the papers and books from the central seating area along with the remains of one of my most favored book carts; it shall be missed. Feel free to adjourn there or poke about, and there is no need for your fiery friend to go skulking around, we don't bite." The Historian's voice faded and Iktinos' jaw snapped shut with a clack and his sharp brows knitted back into their permanent frown.
"May I interest you in a book on crystallography?" he said sarcastically, reaching into the many folds of his robe for the tome.
…the sins of the father.
 Cromwell Initiative · Tue Jun 16, 2009 @ 05:28am · 0 Comments |
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