<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Courier;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><strong>S T O R Y T E L L E R</strong></span></span><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/b9/36/95/b936954e2b2a2d3dfa78fbd37b4eb06d.jpg)</div><strong>Dramatis Personae:</strong>Iskandar the Ur-khan, Ridley the Loremaestro<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Layered Wüstian Garb<br/><br/><strong>Time:</strong><em>2nd Eadae of the Month of Forge, late evening</em><br/><strong>Location:</strong><em></em>Dream Sequence<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Mugi | Enzyklopädie, Eden<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><br/><hr/>Old, of course, is a relative term. The Iskandar she inhabits is easily middle-aged, and only ever thinks of themselves as old when their hip or knee acts up. It turns out that old age pulls no punches, not even with fabled heroes. And, while Mugi remains a separate entity with her own thoughts and feelings, the feelings and thoughts of Iskandar brush against hers, making her aware, yet also providing a sort of barrier.<br/><br/>She may not feel any particular attraction to Ketill or Bodil, but she<em>knows</em>that Iskandar loves them both more or less equally; body, mind, and soul.<br/><br/>Maybe more surprising to her, though, is the warm wood on Iskandar's bare feet. He barely pays it any mind, but it must be a truly unique sensory experience for Mugi.<br/><br/>Perhaps unfortunately, Mugi gets no response to her thoughts. She's rather more of an audience at a movie theater, rather than an actor in the film. That is, right up until she finds a spot where the dream feels malleable; right up until she reaches out with her will, and changes the flow of it.<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9e/34/33/9e34336d895d859434249c706f9fdfd8.jpg)</div>Fade to black; a feeling of falling; a brief glimpse of a void; and then she is back to seeing the world through Iskandar's eyes. They're in a library, now, though at least 3/4ths of the shelves are empty. Half of the area that will presumably be seating is just blank space. But the space itself is pretty massive--three floors. Iskandar's trail of thoughts informs Mugi that this will be the largest library in the known world... once it's actually finished.<br/><br/>Iskandar's eyes trail over the form of the figure in front of them. Assessing wear on clothes, the hidden dagger in their bootstrap; and reams of information flow through his mind, passively figuring out the over-a-hundred ways in which that small blade could be brought to bear against him. He also intuitively understands that they are in excellent health.  Not because he expects danger; but that's just how his mind works, passively processing these things.<br/><br/>He doesn't even sense any malice from them; and again, the trail of thoughts informs Mugi that Iskandar has the<em>ability</em>to sense malice. "Good eve, Khan." The androgynous figure states in a carefully cultivated neutral tone of voice. A single glance at their eyes, and Iskandar understands that they are analyzing him, just as much as he is analyzing them. "Good eve, Ridley." Again--a carefully cultivated neutral voice, which shows neither intense interest nor disinterest. This, too, is a part of Iskandar's mask.<br/><br/>"I've been told that you are looking for competent and skilled people to make a second attempt at Utopia. As you can imagine, I was<em>quite</em>fascinated." A grin; a slip. Eagerness. "You have the right of it, for the most part." Iskandar nods, and gives a single stroke of his beard. It's a subtle sign of approval.<br/><br/>"I was a child when Eden's project failed. I've since spent a sizable portion of my life studying it, and believe I can be of assistance." He can't see their ears, due to their hairstyle, but he immediately assumes 'elf'. They're known to live ten times as long as humans like himself, and while Utopia fell almost two hundred years ago, it's entirely reasonable that what Ridley is saying is truth. He nods, and strokes his beard twice, silently communicating his interest in a manner that made sense for the time he lived in.<br/><br/>So prompted, the would-be librarian continues, "I also happen to have access to an almost-complete collection of Enzyklopädie's written works." At this point, Iskandar feels the need to interject. "I can see that you will bring much experience and wisdom to this undertaking." Translation:<em>I'm already sold on accepting you.</em>"Of course, as someone benefiting from my patronage, I need you to be clear on what you expect from me."<br/><br/>"Very well then, Khan. Here are my non-negotiable terms: Firstly: you will provide me with a living quarters in the undercroft of this library. Secondly: you will ensure my employment as the LoreMaestro of the library for as long as it stands. Thirdly: you will make all reasonable efforts to help me complete the collection, which I will make available in a separate section of the library. And, fourthly: you must keep your vow to treat all equitably and fairly, regardless of their race or gender."<br/><br/>Something clicks in Iskandar's head. He has not seen this individual draw a single breath. At first, he merely thought that clothes might conceal the micromuscular movements. But, they're not sweating, either, despite the hearth-fueled warmth and light of the library.<br/><br/>"I find your terms acceptable. However, I must inquire..." "My race?" "Yes." To which, the soon-to-be Maestro smiles. At first, the teeth look normal, but in the blink of an eye, two prominent fangs are suddenly stick out from the top row of teeth.<br/><br/>Iskandar takes this revelation in stride. He nods, and strokes his beard thrice. They stop bearing their fangs, and return to a thin, toothless smile. "I can not allow you to feed upon my citizens indiscriminately. I have an oath to protect them."<br/><br/>"I understand, Khan. And, I am willing to swear an oath to S'soli and Alun, that I shall not feed upon the unwilling--and never will I feed on the willing to death." Objectively, a single minute's worth of silence passes. Subjectively, it feels like an hour.  The two stare each other in the eyes, unblinking, assessing each other in a way that likely goes beyond Mugi's capability to understand, in spite of the powerful connection she has with Iskandar.<br/><br/>The minute passes. Each rise up from their chairs at the same time. Each takes three steps forward, closing the distance between them; every step in synchronicity. They each extend their right hand, and grasp the other's wrist. They shake. Three shakes; release; hands return back to their respective side.<br/><br/>"I have one more question." "Yes, Khan?" "What do you mean by 'Maestro'?" "I do not see myself as either a Loremaster or a Loremistress. What, then, should I be called?" Silence again; contemplation.<br/><br/>"Loremaestro. Hmm. Yes; it is a good word, and I see no problem with its use."<br/><br/>Iskandar watches as Ridley kneels and begins to recite those two names they mentioned previously, but before they can complete their oath, Mugi finds herself wide awake in bed; morning light streaming in through the window.