"Niti." Rudy called out to Niti and took a deep breath before asking, "Is there a… uhh, something I can write on? Like paper or cloth?"
"Yes," Niti nodded in response.
"Nice. Can you hand me some paper and a pen? A pen is a tool used for—"
"I know what 'pen' means," Niti interjected. "They exist here too."
"Oh, I see. And here, I assumed everything was magic here. Like they swing their finger in the air, and it gets written on the paper," he scoffed softly at his own joke.
Niti walked to a small table in the corner of the room— which looked out of place and didn't suit the room at all. She opened a drawer and grabbed a diary, which looked ancient, and there were golden sigils carved on the red, fluffy leather cover.
'I don't want to know what it's made up of.'