The grand library of the Valtrane capital estate was quiet in the late afternoon. Pale sunlight streamed through the high arched windows, falling across towering shelves and long rows of books as dust drifted lazily through the air.
At the far end of the third floor, tucked deep within the restricted magic section, Zarius sat alone at a broad desk. The silence here was deeper than anywhere else in the library, broken only by the occasional rustle of a turning page as Zarius continued his research, his attention fixed entirely on the ancient text in front of him.
In front of him rested a tall stack of thick, leather-bound tomes he had pulled from the upper shelves. Their spines were worn, the gold-leaf lettering on each one faded. Zarius pulled one heavy book toward himself, the thick parchment creaking as he opened it. He rested his chin in one broad palm, his dark eyes scanning the dense, handwritten script with quiet, absolute focus.
