it is your differences...

Amaria had tried to tell her mistress that it was useless sending her on this errand. Her soft protests had been easily swept to one side with a few choice words from the woman, and so Amaria had found herself again travelling. For a change, though, this particular journey didn’t involve a boat. At first, she relied on her own two feet – Mazelina spent most of her time below the water, but when she did decide to venture onto land, she seemed to prefer her own company over a busy town or city. No traffic passed Mazelina’s house, and very rarely did anything or anyone even approach the building. This meant that Amaria couldn’t flag a passing cart to take her even a little bit of the way, so it was well into the day before the young woman saw any form of transportation.

Though she wasn’t particularly confident on horseback, Amaria was also aware that every task she was given had a deadline – even if she wasn’t actually aware of what that deadline was. Her mistress, though not needlessly cruel, wasn’t a patient person, or even a polite one. She expected results, and she wasn’t best pleased when she didn’t get them. Amaria loved making people happy, and was disappointed in herself when she couldn’t make it so, so she passed up her comfort and tried to ignore her anxiety as she (or rather, the horse she had borrowed for a day or two) cantered through the forest. She slept that night under the shade of a tree with leaves bigger than her head, oblivious to the little critters that scurried over her blanketed legs in the darkness.

It was early afternoon, and Amaria was both thirsty and saddle-sore when she caught sight of the impressive library. She had never been there before, and she fairly gaped at it as she fumbled to tie the horse’s reins to a tree. She remembered enough of what the nice boy at the stables had told her to remember to tug on the reins to check that they were secure before she set off down the little path, her eyes wide as she tried to take everything in. She had never seen such a beautiful building before! Even the forest around it seemed prettier than normal, as much as she had enjoyed the change in scenery.

At first when Amaria pushed on the doors, they didn’t budge, and her brow puckered slightly in confusion. A snippet of her mistress’ instructions flitted through her mind then. The Grand Library is open whenever the sun is above the hills. Squinting slightly, Amaria looked up, peering between the dense foliage to try to determine whether it was night or day. Taking a few steps to either side, Amaria managed to spot a few rays of sunshine as some of the smaller members of the fae played in the leaves, the sun glinting off their wings. Beaming, she turned her attention again to the doors. Perhaps there was a special way to get in that Mistress Mazelina had forgotten to tell her…. The blonde chewed her lower lip, dithering over her choices. Did she go back empty handed? In the end, there was no way that that was an option, so Amaria would simply have to forge ahead. Whatever her faults, Amaria was at the very least persistent and determined when she chose to be, and eventually, the doors cracked open enough for her to slip through.

She was glad for the cool, dim interior as she wiped the droplets of sweat from her brow, but really all she wanted now was a cup of water, and a little bit of a rest. She also still didn’t want to admit to herself that this was entirely a fool’s errand. There was no way in Oedir that she was going to be able to find this book! Her mistress had given her the name of the book on a slip of paper, and had never said it aloud. Short of comparing the title of every book to this scrap of paper, Amaria didn’t know what to do! After having wandered around for what felt like an eternity, she still had yet to see another soul to help her. She had resigned herself to doing just what she had told herself she wouldn’t, and she had a heavy tome in her hand when she heard someone speak. Managing to keep hold of it by the tips of her fingers, Amaria was already laughing at herself as she looked up at quite possibly the only other person in this vast space. ”Hello!” She responded brightly, amusement still colouring her tone, and a wide smile on her lips.

She should just admit it. She didn’t have a clue. But she also wanted to help. What a dilemma! Amaria chewed her lip again, looking this way and that as if that would help. In the end, she had to shake her head, pouting slightly. ”’Fraid not, m’lord.” She finally responded, bobbing into a small curtsey. Surely if he could spend his time here instead of working, he was some high noble lord or scholar. Amaria had been deceived by youthful looks before – perhaps all people that lived in castles and suchlike shared the same blessing. Slipping the book back into the space she had taken it from, she took a step or two closer. ”But mebbe if we both look, we’ll find it!” She suggested, despite the fact that she was unlikely to be any help at all.

... that make you glorious.

it is your differences...

He held his hand up to stop her speaking, so she did as she was bid, her head tilting to the side slightly as her own brow furrowed in confusion. Not a lord? Truth be told, she had never been corrected on the titles she had used to address anyone before. Though it was unlikely, perhaps she had never been wrong. The more likely truth was that they had either been flattered, or hadn't cared enough to correct her. She considered the man for a moment, racking her brains as she sought a term that would be more suited to him. Just a traveller... That didn't tell her a whole lot. His clothes seemed clean enough, indicating that he hadn't travelled far this particular day – Amaria was sure that she was at the very least dusty and scruffy from her own travels, but she had yet to come across anywhere she could try to rectify the damage. She had seen no other horse outside, but it was possible that she had walked right past the beast without noticing – her attention span could really do with some work. No matter what she hadn’t noticed, though – what she had noticed was that he was better educated and therefore superior to her. After some deliberation, Amaria could think of no alternative. ”Sorry, sir, I di’nt mean to offend.” Her lips curled down a little at the confession, genuinely apologetic.

It didn’t take long for her to smile again, though, as she introduced herself, gazing up at the man. ”Y’can call me Amaria, if ya’d like to.” She offered, though she likely wouldn't have been offended whatever he decided to call her. Somehow, she managed to mostly keep looking at his face – the decorations on his antlers definitely begged to be studied, but Amaria wasn't entirely sure how rude it was to stare at someone's antlers... She had never been in such a situation before. Had a spell been placed on him? Or was he one of those were-creatures? She was almost sure she had met at least one – but it was difficult to trade at market if you couldn't speak, so she couldn't be sure. It struck Amaria again just how sheltered she had managed to be when she had lived at home. Another reason, then, that she was glad of that day on the fishing boat, no matter how scared she had been at first.

Mostly, she was looking at him to try to figure out what she thought his name would be – not that he was obligated to give it to her, of course. He looked like a Tobias... Or a Percy. Actually, if she tilted her head right, he looked a little like one of her friends from years ago – Darius. Well, taking the antlers out of the equation anyway. Too busy debating his possible moniker with herself, Amaria missed Frey's interest in the book that she held. Unable to decide whether or not the shapes on the paper matched those of the book, she had shelved the book even as a spike of excitement caused her to beam. ”Would ya help me? Truly?!” Incredulity coloured her tone, not because no-one had ever helped her before, but because she instinctively thought of his time as much more important than hers. Her smile faltered as unease flickered through her. Though it only stayed for a moment, her face screwed up into a perturbed and almost embarrassed expression as her eyes darted to look at the floor instead. ”I ain't sure how much help I'll be, though, sir.” She added, her tone lacking the exuberance that tinged her other words. Though it hurt her to be honest, she would hate more to waste his time. But still she couldn't quite force the admission past her lips, so she let the silence stretch, refusing to look back up at him, choosing instead to stare fixedly at her hands, which were twisting the corner of her apron.

... that make you glorious.