08-10-2016, 04:57 AM
Asha let him lead, trailing close in his wake, avoiding the brush of arms and hands as best she could. She couldn't see where they were going, just the black-clad leather of his shoulder, but she trusted in the slow path he carved. "Yes,"
she answered, knowing full well even without her abilities just exactly what he'd think about that. "Aria. The place above the bookshop. But she's never there. Last time I saw her was the day after that night. She lets me stay for free. In return I digitise some old journals."
It was an easy trade on Asha's part. The journals themselves were captivating, and she'd poured over them even when she wasn't working on them. There was another manual she used too, the one that had been left out on the coffee table, to help identity some of the words and the beasts and creatures that filled them. Sometimes she even went through her old writings, and like a jigsaw with no cover picture, began to piece together the holes in her own upbringing. It was both fascinating and frightening to realise how close she had lived to this supernatural world her entire life.
Though the first time she'd read of one of her own kind being killed, it had not been pleasant.
Uneasy dreams had followed that revelation - even armed with the knowledge that she was considered little more than a creature in the eyes of the Atharim had not prepared her for the brutality of it. And yet her uncle - and she was quite sure now of her suspicions - had raised her like his own child. It lingered in her thoughts more and more these days. She needed to speak to Nox about it.
she answered, knowing full well even without her abilities just exactly what he'd think about that. "Aria. The place above the bookshop. But she's never there. Last time I saw her was the day after that night. She lets me stay for free. In return I digitise some old journals."
It was an easy trade on Asha's part. The journals themselves were captivating, and she'd poured over them even when she wasn't working on them. There was another manual she used too, the one that had been left out on the coffee table, to help identity some of the words and the beasts and creatures that filled them. Sometimes she even went through her old writings, and like a jigsaw with no cover picture, began to piece together the holes in her own upbringing. It was both fascinating and frightening to realise how close she had lived to this supernatural world her entire life.
Though the first time she'd read of one of her own kind being killed, it had not been pleasant.
Uneasy dreams had followed that revelation - even armed with the knowledge that she was considered little more than a creature in the eyes of the Atharim had not prepared her for the brutality of it. And yet her uncle - and she was quite sure now of her suspicions - had raised her like his own child. It lingered in her thoughts more and more these days. She needed to speak to Nox about it.