I followed Thron to the library, laying my elbows on the counter as he sat down. As the old librarian settled in his chair, I realized it was the first time I'd seen him outside the library. Stories claimed that he loved knowledge more than his own family, leaving them behind in some faraway kingdom to care for the books at the Divine Throne.
Thron cleared his throat, cutting through my thoughts. I looked up curiously as he picked up a quill and began scratching on a piece of parchment. I found myself a little jealous of his neat, graceful script. I'd never had the opportunity to write much in my previous life, barely learning to read as it was, and didn't have much talent for the complex written languages of Enusia. After Awakening, my soul automatically translated any language, something common among all heroes, but that didn't extend to writing.
