The Demon Sword: Sorataki (Side stories)

Book of words

Sophie

She sits under the shade of a tree, as she rests upon the crunchy late summer leaves on the floor she silently reviewed her book of words, she had once called it her report book and even a diary at one point, but that idea kind of shifted the more time she spent writing into it. Or rather perhaps it was the traveling and experiences that had shifted her mind on the matter.

It did not help at all that in the first place this book with its four-hundred and twenty-seven blank pages in-casted in a hardcover dressed in a sheet of prim red silk. It showed its age from dim yellow splatter marks, like wheat-covered islands came with no title.

With its aging pages shriveling and drying along the edges despite the book's good condition the history buff within her instantly identified it as one made from before the great fall. As grateful as she was about master Bruce parting her with this gift, and she was honestly grateful even if it was likely just an old book he's had on top of his shelf within his quarters, a book she could almost attest to seeing on many occasions sitting in the middle of second to top rack of his black ten-foot shelf. As honored as she was to be given anything at all from her master, teacher, and sergeant father before her travels she could not hide the slight peeve she had at his one instruction in regards to titling the book itself.

"Well it's blank, so you can name it whatever you want it to be named." He said right before inquiring her to go east, for east is where whispers lie. His worn face and slightly wavering stance upon his walking stick showed a man on the cusp of becoming senile. All except for his eyes, his sharp and true eyes that cut through all the limits upon his body, eye's that still held fast within the pool of wisdom, at least for now...

Whatever I wanted it to be? What in cycles name am I meant to make of that?

She has never been one for an open book, for Sophie, everything had to be filled out, planned, well researched and most of all have a defined point. She once came onto Talia (A tall upstanding student from a respected and noble background) on her historical rendition of the callers of the wind and how they came about.

According to her all of them simply cropped up one day out of their want and desperation for the winds to return, and just like that built a faith to then fade into the pages after two hundred years or so when their goal seemed complete. After all, her argument was that the winds had come back so why pray for something that's already there?

It was not a complete lie, however; they did (From outside testimonials looking in.) appear out of thin air near the middle of the twenty-second century and seemingly gone with the wind some two hundred years later. But that so-called appearance was simply people who were already following other faith's latching onto the calling of winds that in turn led to the new movement, and when she says they faded into the winds it was true in the impact sense but in all honesty, it was more like they had shrunken to a point of irrelevancy in the wider scope of the world making way for the demon sword's, the hundred years of wonders and myths to the now more recent revelation of Titans Creek and the decadence of giants thanks to the reckless actions of the Golden Dragons abuse of their newfound power.

Had she just acknowledged those little details when she rose up to question them there would not have to have been a scene, but she at the time thinking that it was born from ignorance took to the thought of someone who's gotten into the halls of Hallow Peak, a place that she dreamt of setting foot into when she was a young girl. A place that she busts her ass off trying to acquire their knowledge and buying any books that so happened to reach their way down from Its wonders chiseled palace, obtaining said books with the little money that she could conjure up doing odd jobs in the slums, a lofty palace that she somehow found herself one day entering by sheer dumb luck and chance, a place that she was beginning to really wonder if she truly belonged or really believed she would reach back then when she looked up to it all hopeful and eager.