created to create
Ulric was not wrong - it was not hard to find the black pegasus. All Po had to do was browse the skies then head towards the library.
The dark, earthen floor muted his footsteps as he walked, the woven canopy of the trees blocking out sound both within and without the library. It was always a strange thing to him; one moment he was walking through the forest, following a well-worn trail that winded back and forth through the trees. The path would gradually become more overgrown, the trees wider and spaced closer together, until they seemed to grow into one another altogether. Where once a thousand trees stood, a single massive tree now grew, merged into one being through the years and by magic. It was a wonder and a mystery to behold, one that never failed to amaze Ipomoea.
He would happily stay here forever - in another time, another life. Perhaps one with less responsibilities, less war and strife, one where a spotted orphan could read to his heart’s content.
Alas, that was not this life.
The library helper was all too happy to help the Regent. So happy in fact, that for a moment he feared they were playing one of their beloved tricks on him, pulling his leg and stringing him along in the direction opposite of what he’d asked. But true enough, when they lead him to the hidden alcove it was Mateo there waiting for him. As the fox-like creature ran back into the depths of the library, Po offered a warm smile to the pegasus.
"Mateo," he greets, his voice feeling strangely hushed. It was hard to not speak quietly here, where it was so peaceful the drop of a pin would be heard. "I was indeed."
He wanders forward, letting his eyes roam over the scrolls and book titles arranged on the table. It would seem the scribe had been hard at work for a while now - and he was not surprised to see it. One in particular caught the Regent’s attention, and a half smile hid at the corner of his lips. "Ah, the A Journey Along the Rapax, with Zosimas the Monk. I believe there’s some illustrations of our pink river dolphins in there that Regis may be interested in." He turns the pages gingerly, admiring the fine script of the man who’d written it all those years ago. "Of course, Zosimas was quite doubtful of their existence in the beginning, but you can feel the wonder in his words when he writes about seeing them for the first time. Really the best part of the book if you ask me."
Ipomoea closes the book, setting it slowly back down on the table. He was stalling and he knew it; he only hoped it wasn't too obvious.
"You’re hard at work I see, I hope I’m not disturbing you?" I have a favor to ask, he didn't say, not yet.
@mateo | "speaks" | notes: text
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