Adrius sat down at the table, the ancient tome before him settling into the room like an uninvited guest. Lysander stood nearby, his eyes flickering with anticipation of what exactly what they will find. They can smell the musty scent of the old book, mingling with the faint traces of incense that lingered in the chamber.
Carefully, Adrius reached out and opened the tome, the aged pages crackling softly under his fingers. The faint outlines of archaic symbols greeted him. Lysander watched intently as Adrius began to read, his gaze scanning the faded text with the precision and patience that only centuries of experience could grant.
For a long while there was only silence, broken occasionally by the rustle of parchment as Adrius turned each delicate page. The text was dense and written in a script that few could decipher, but Adrius moved through it with a fluid grace, his mind parsing the ancient language with ease.
