Post by Blake Sterling Jr. on Sept 28, 2015 0:39:53 GMT -8
The old man slides the tome into place. His young hands are stained black with ink. The robe he wears is almost a Dalmatian hide with the ink stains. He has been writing non-stop for two months now. Most of the lineage tree is recorded to the best of his memory. With room to expand with new discoveries.
He looks at the black tome sitting on the desk. Black pen sitting in its pages. What has court been up to? Is there a new prince? Who has died? Who has come to the city? So many questions flood to his mind. “We cannot ignore that work any longer” The mindless ghoul in the corner only grunts a little as a little drool gathers on his lip.
“Mr. Lecroix” The ghoul snaps to attention as the sound of his master addressing him. “Have our robe cleaned, it is time to go into the night again and see what new cogs there are in this new city.” The ghoul grunts and shuffles away.
The old man in the young man’s body sits wearily in the threadbare easy chair. “Why do we wish to break from rewriting our library? True the work is tedious and almost seems… dare we say it pointless? We should learn how to use a computer… Eh.”
He pulls the lever on the chair and the feet slide out with a squeak. He lays back with a sigh that sounds older than the mechanical clock. “We have known riches beyond most of these children’s dreams, but we cannot remember anything as comfortable as this chair. Not everything new is worthless.”
He looks at the black tome sitting on the desk. Black pen sitting in its pages. What has court been up to? Is there a new prince? Who has died? Who has come to the city? So many questions flood to his mind. “We cannot ignore that work any longer” The mindless ghoul in the corner only grunts a little as a little drool gathers on his lip.
“Mr. Lecroix” The ghoul snaps to attention as the sound of his master addressing him. “Have our robe cleaned, it is time to go into the night again and see what new cogs there are in this new city.” The ghoul grunts and shuffles away.
The old man in the young man’s body sits wearily in the threadbare easy chair. “Why do we wish to break from rewriting our library? True the work is tedious and almost seems… dare we say it pointless? We should learn how to use a computer… Eh.”
He pulls the lever on the chair and the feet slide out with a squeak. He lays back with a sigh that sounds older than the mechanical clock. “We have known riches beyond most of these children’s dreams, but we cannot remember anything as comfortable as this chair. Not everything new is worthless.”