InkWeaver
05-13-15, 09:13 PM
Twin braids fluttered down the street as Meggie skipped to the next bookstore. Five, no six days had passed since she had left the Inkworld in favor of settling down in Althanas. The winds of the ashes she teleported herself on carried her to Althanas. Fair Corone to be precise but that’s the consequence for burning a whole book without sorting and separating the world descriptions.
Gazing up at the sky above, the sun warmed Meggie’s face with the delicate softness of rose petals. Sweet air filling her air, she turned back toward the bookstore and strode in. It’s not busy, just a few customers who are preoccupied with the owner. He turns toward Meggie and offers a gentle smile. Books towered up on all sides of the store, shelves seemed to extend past the two stories they were confined to.
In truth, most of these books were useless to Meggie, written in languages she could not understand and in turn, burning them would be a waste of a good book. But the smell of dusty paper warmed by the soft light filtering in through the stained glass windows made the books all the more important.
Meggie brushes a book spine and inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes and concentrates. Step by step, spine by spine, she could feel the inked pages calling her. Even with extending her magic out to the books not one spine caught her attention.
Snag. As her finger snags on a book spine Meggie trips forward, taking the book with her. She bits her lip to hold back her surprise, her eyes shut expecting to crash into the floor.
Gazing up at the sky above, the sun warmed Meggie’s face with the delicate softness of rose petals. Sweet air filling her air, she turned back toward the bookstore and strode in. It’s not busy, just a few customers who are preoccupied with the owner. He turns toward Meggie and offers a gentle smile. Books towered up on all sides of the store, shelves seemed to extend past the two stories they were confined to.
In truth, most of these books were useless to Meggie, written in languages she could not understand and in turn, burning them would be a waste of a good book. But the smell of dusty paper warmed by the soft light filtering in through the stained glass windows made the books all the more important.
Meggie brushes a book spine and inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes and concentrates. Step by step, spine by spine, she could feel the inked pages calling her. Even with extending her magic out to the books not one spine caught her attention.
Snag. As her finger snags on a book spine Meggie trips forward, taking the book with her. She bits her lip to hold back her surprise, her eyes shut expecting to crash into the floor.