A Crown Of Blades(ARTK, Book 3)

Chapter 9-10

Anor 15th, 3330 A.G

Auriol wiped the sweat from her face and picked up yet another book. The moment Raaf began grooming her as his successor she hadn't done much else- and it were exhausting. Every moment of every day, whether she were eating breakfast, getting dressed, braiding her hair or going on a walk-

  A book was either in her hands or propped up nearby. Her not reading these ones were a rarity; Raaf had asked her to grab history books on the noble houses so he could help her memorize them in the morning, and it were now morning. She had just one left to get from his office, where he'd written down each of the prophecies that came to him over the years.

  Auriol stepped down from one of the library's many ladders, straining to keep hold of her stack without falling backwards. Once her feet were touching stone again she sighed and gave herself a single moment to lean against a bookshelf. She were far from lazy; in her time here she'd done plenty of work for the temple devotees who specialized in farming advancement and the healing arts, even ran an errand for one studying female fertility (he'd asked her to pick up tubes from the glass worker employed by the temple) - yet working her mind had managed to make her arms more muscular.

  She straightened up when another devotee came down her aisle, plastered a smile across her face and started walking. Wasting time on emotions was a frivolous thing. Here they didn't have time for frivolities, only logic. She were lucky none said anything about long hair to the female or male devotees. In Raaf's eyes, if it made a person feel beautiful- they wouldn't spend so much time worrying about their appearances and could focus on books.

Once Auriol reached Raaf's office at the library's back, it's window often considered the best view of house Amalone- she shut the door.

  What am I- why am I doing any of this? It's not as if I wanted it. Not as if I have ancestor who was a high priest or priestess of anything-

  Before she could spiral any more, Auriol picked up the small book she were here for(sitting just on the edge of his crowded desk) and turned back towards the door.

  I am alright.

  There's nothing wrong with me.

  I can pretend I'm good enough for this a little while longer.

  She kept those thoughts going as she left the library, ascended the long winding staircase and the much shorter flight on the opposite side of the circular entrance room- that led to the basement level. He'd never admit it, but like any other old man his bones were beginning to hurt. The winding staircase took him far longer than it used to...

  And the others could see it.

She passed through the large dining room where just a few newer and older devotees were serving themselves breakfast after morning reading or classes, went down two hallways-

  And couldn't help but notice how quiet  it were even for here. Usually there were indications of human life, light just barely peeking out under the doors from candles that never went out (only some of the basement rooms had lightning vents, and most devotees who had rooms down here chose to open them just for fresh air- to avoid outside noise), but Raaf's room were dark.

  The others could be excused. They were researchers, newer devotees who too lots of classes......

  Auriol slowly set her stack down outside his door, positioning her fist to knock.

What if....

She laughed. Though old, Raaf were perfectly healthy. His mind hadn't slipped very much either, so there was no reason to think....