The library of King Thalrion was unlike any other place Eccar had set foot in. Its great wooden arches stretched like living branches overhead, carved smooth but still showing the shape of the forest.
Sunlight pierced through latticed windows and falling onto rows upon rows of shelves that seemed endless. Each of these rows were filled with scrolls, tomes, and slabs of polished wood inscribed with Elven language.
It smelled of cedar and ancient ink and a sacred hush hanging in the air.
For a couple of days now Eccar and Krono had sat in this big sanctuary combing through its countless records under the watchful eyes of the Elves.
Sharp and suspicious glances and whispers always followed them from some who couldn't believe the king had granted these outsiders access to their holiest knowledge.
Others held their tongues and reminded themselves that if King Thalrion himself had permitted it, then surely there was a purpose.
