I AM THROWING MY ANCHOR BACK INTO THE SEAS OF HISTORY
MY CALLOUS, WILD-HEARTED, WONDROUS ANCESTORS
MY CALLOUS, WILD-HEARTED, WONDROUS ANCESTORS
Pravda is not, necessarily, adept at reading others. But he is observant enough to recognize the way her face hardens when he meets her too-blue eyes. I am looking for the stories about the old gods. The ones who may have come long before Solis, Caligo, Oriens, and Vespera.
There are some things that do not change. Pravda had not been a Priest of Knowledge; but that is what the world had always needed the Priests for, in his old homeland. Knowledge. He is made curious by her inquiry, but remains unsurprised. Those are the questions of humanity; they are the questions of the ages. And yet, her request is one of the more intriguing he had heard thus far. Pravda nods, quietly.
“I would be happy to show you some aisles with information that might align with your interests. However, I will warn you—the history of this land does not exist before the four solar deities. Aside from Tempus, that is.” Assuming she will follow, he turns and begins to walk. Pravda is contemplative, but rather than continue to elaborate, he waits for any additional questions.
“As for Delumine—I can refer you to books, or perhaps answer whatever questions that come to mind. I was born here.”
If she is a fraud, then so is he.
But Pravda’s eyes would not betray it; nor would his voice, calm and nearly clinical. The voice of a doctor, or a pilot, or a fabled researcher. “Are you from Solterra originally, then? I don’t believe I introduced myself. My name is Pravda. I am a scholar here.”
"Speech." || @Meira
