The Epsilonion CouncilMature

Nyt took a long, drawn out gulp from the mug clutched in his hands. The tea had steam erupting around the mugs edge, but the apparent temperature was misleading, as it was cooler than a drinker would anticipate.  "Coquino, you still make the finest brew in the Kingdom of Men, any lover of tea from here to the far coasts of Eselvald would savour its taste." 

The jolly cook laughed at the compliment. "Oh Master Nyt you do me injustice with such a compliment. I simply treat the tea as it should be treated. A dash of hot water, and a mountain of tea leaves." He swung his arm up in the air, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips, he swallowed the last of the brew, balancing the mug on the table, he slapped his large hands on his heavy thighs, "sadly work calls my name." He raised his hand to his ear and began whispering. "Coquino. Coquino. Coquino." 

And with a wholesome laugh he left Nyt alone at the table, in the servants dining hall. A smile crept across the young Librarians face, the old cook had given him a great many memories, most of which made him laugh. Nyt slipped his hand between the two buttons nearest the top of his robe and felt the scar left from his rune. He wondered to himself if he would remember the memories of Coquino if it wasn't for the rune. "Would I? Or wouldn't I?" He raised the mug, taking another gulp of the imported Elegans tea, with its misty orange colour reflecting nicely on the porcelain mugs sides. 

A light knocking echoed into the room, it was Ledl, Coquino's youngest son. Nyt looked at him with a warm smile. "Ah little Ledl, how has the day been treating you so far m'boy?" 

The boy answered shakily. "It's been well sir, no complaints sir. Sir?" 

Nyt nodded. 

The boy muttered. "I've been sent by Papa to fetch you, he said you've been summoned forward by the Epsilonian Courts of the Librarians and that I was to tell you." 

A surprised look flashed across Nyt's face, like lightning to the sky, recovering quickly he smiled. "Thank you Lidl, be sure to pass on a thank you to your father for sending you. Take some tea before you leave." 

Nyt proceeded to leave the warmth of the room behind, entering the colder lower corridors. Nyt made it ten paces before he paused for a second, and shouted back towards the room. "Lidl, bring the tea, I think I might need another cup or two." 

He could hear the lad scurrying, followed by the sight of the boy carrying the pot, a half drained mug and an empty one. Nyt took the pot from the boy. "My thanks again." 


The Epsilonion council sat around a curved oakwood table, it sat seven in total. It was rumoured the table was as old as the Librarians themselves, of course this was dismissed as just a rumour by the Librarians, but something about its dominance in the room told Nyt the denial was a lie.

The first to speak was Akarog, a man who's hair was as grey as the creaks of Reliath and who's skin as smooth as the Glass Dunes of the Favarian Desert to the north. "Nyt Daorlonn, it is your first time before the council - Is it not?"

Nyt nodded slowly.

"Has your tounge been bitten from your petty excuse of a mouth child? I can smell your indescrepinsies from here." It was Karallean that spat the words, her skin was as rough as her raspy voice and her eyes would rival a needle for pin point bluntness.

"My Lady, I assure you that I can think thoughts equal to my ability to speak them. Shou-"

Akarog bellowed over the chatter. "Silence, we will not have you muttering uselessness here Karallean, you distract the boy." A small grin formed at the edge of Nyt's mouth. She scoffed and turned her gaze down to her papers. "Now m'boy, a problem has recently arisen."

"I will assist in whatever manner I can my Lord." 

"I would expect nothing less Nyt." Akarog reached across the desk and wrapped his finger around the scroll he wished for. "Rumours are emerging of a Master Rune. Its potential and powers are still unknown to us, so do not waste breath asking of it." He drained his glass of wine, and began to speak whilst a squire refilled the glass. "We heard the rumours of it from one of the Kingdoms men, his name was Elefred of Hidenwind, he is a spy against the elves. You are to travel to Hidenwind and discover what he knows." 

"My Lord, I have not left the cast--" 

"We know, you are to go to Master Fabularem for a staff and other equipment." Akarog chuckled, he had always been a fatherly figure to Nyt, and the young Librarian knew he thought of him as a son in many ways. "Today m'boy, you take a first step in the next journey of your life, you shall remember it till death takes you from us." 

Nyt nodded in respect. "Now go m'boy, you have much preparation before you leave us." Akarog paused for a moment. "Before you leave, report to my quarters. We must talk in the company of no one but ourselves."

Nyt bowed in respect and left to find Master Fabularem.

The End

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