Daniel was sitting by the tree, the sunlight falling on his face, its reflection gleaming in his indifferent eyes.
And facing him was the old librarian, the same ordinary librarian of the Holy Palace library who on normal days was no different from an old man just a few steps away from death.
His simple gray robe swayed in the gentle wind, and his old staff dragged silently on the ground, but the strangest part of the matter was neither his appearance nor his calm smile.
Rather, it was the fact that the tree had accepted him. The roots had moved aside, with no force and no fear; they had parted completely of their own accord.
As if the old man's presence had always been part of this place.
Daniel's eyes narrowed for a moment. He sensed no mana from the old man, no wave of power, no pressure of presence, practically nothing.
And that was the most unnatural part of the matter.
