07-12-2018, 01:47 PM
Unsurprisingly, a collection of books was already beginning. Back home, a massive library held the eldest son's extensive selection of texts. He organized it meticulously. He read and re-read every chance he got. Consequently, Raziel had to admit he had appeared a rather 'anti-social' child. Perhaps it was true, and still true. He sought the company of books more than any sentient being. Of course, he did enjoy intellectual debates and philosophical discussion. Day-to-day, absent small-talk was no use to him.
With a carefully splinted leg, most of the newcomer's movements involved transporting books into his new home. Despite his injury, Raziel had claimed a treehouse. It simply made sense. From what he learned of the divisions, he knew this was where he'd be staying; he was a man of knowledge and compassion not of warfare, or of social talent. It simply made more sense.
With a creased brow, Raziel looked through his relatively small new collection. It would take time to build it up, especially since he could not conjure any of his favorites from home. There were many sea-faring books; tales of the ocean, of sailors and monsters. He didn't pay them much mind at the moment, though he filed them away from later. By some off-chance, he had found someone willing to part with a copy of Le Petit Prince, a book he had grown up on. Now if he could just find Lord of the Rings, and Narnia; he'd have all the beginning of his fondest tomes. "Let's see... Treasure Island... Watership Down... Golden Compass..." Perhaps he would start with Le Petit Prince.
With a hum, the studious tom carried his choice down to the bay, finding a love of the clear water and freshness of the air. It really was beautiful, this island. That in mind, Raziel settled down to read. It was an unfortunately short book, but sweet none the less, if not rather sad at the end.
With a carefully splinted leg, most of the newcomer's movements involved transporting books into his new home. Despite his injury, Raziel had claimed a treehouse. It simply made sense. From what he learned of the divisions, he knew this was where he'd be staying; he was a man of knowledge and compassion not of warfare, or of social talent. It simply made more sense.
With a creased brow, Raziel looked through his relatively small new collection. It would take time to build it up, especially since he could not conjure any of his favorites from home. There were many sea-faring books; tales of the ocean, of sailors and monsters. He didn't pay them much mind at the moment, though he filed them away from later. By some off-chance, he had found someone willing to part with a copy of Le Petit Prince, a book he had grown up on. Now if he could just find Lord of the Rings, and Narnia; he'd have all the beginning of his fondest tomes. "Let's see... Treasure Island... Watership Down... Golden Compass..." Perhaps he would start with Le Petit Prince.
With a hum, the studious tom carried his choice down to the bay, finding a love of the clear water and freshness of the air. It really was beautiful, this island. That in mind, Raziel settled down to read. It was an unfortunately short book, but sweet none the less, if not rather sad at the end.