02-12-2018, 06:00 PM
Hecate headed back into the confines of the thick marble walls of the castle, her body sore with waves of fatigue, still, her training session had been a very fruitful one. Recreating her icicle attack had been such a confidence boost that she now felt nearly empowered. Still her stomach did not share that sentiment as it gurgled loudly reminding her of her body’s need to eat. The kitchen and cold box that Warren had left was now empty, much to Hecate’s chagrin. There were vegetables inside the storage containers, but with Hecate’s limited cooking understanding it was destined for failure as she grabbed a few choice items, a cucumber, onion and radish. She threw the foods into a large cooking pot and added a but of water. Setting it on the surface used by warren to cook prior she watched as the water turned to steam and the smell of burning veggies filled the kitchen. Turning the stovetop off she poured the vile looking concoction onto a plate. Grabbing the hot veggies she bit in, terrible flavours filled her taste buds as she forced herself to swallow. “This is worse than the slop served in the academy.” She said to herself with a cheeky grin. Finishing the nightmarish meal she turned her attention once more to her library, even now this had been the place she spent most of her time. So much time in fact she had not yet been able to view her own quarters.
She settled down in a plush chair grabbing a book from the table beside her, it's thick leather binding creaked as she opened the book. The cover had been something written in old Vesturan, a long dead dialect used only by those who still walked the path of the Templora Executivas. The religious sect of assassins. The book she knew was written about the hero of old Elizabeth but even more so about her apprentice Cordelia, a woman who few knew about. Her story was one of intrigue, a former priestess of Anveel turned acolyte of Meistra. Her deeds we're so we'll hidden by the fanatics of the goddess of death that most of it even to this date was speculation at best.
The book was a journal, one that Hecate had never set eyes on before. Yet in this great library here it was. She was sure that among the thousands if not tens of thousands of books nestled neatly upon the thick dark wood shelves. Many of which she was sure we're ones she had never seen. She slid a small piece of cedar wood between the pages to keep her place as she made painstakingly slow progress reading line after line of information. Hecate's surprise came as she learned that Cordelia had felt betrayed by Anveel, after witnessing Elizabeth be executed for one of the missions the pair had undertaken together. “ The stories of old have it wrong if this journal is anything to believe.” She muttered to herself quietly.
Hecate heard a faint knocking on the iron banded doors leading to the keep. “There shouldn't be anyone near this castle.” she said as she got up and slid the book onto the table beside the large chair and found her way out into the courtyard. There were two people…. No kids standing at the door. She walked up behind the pair shocked to find one with a bad looking wound. “Can I help you?” She asked the duo, her eye’s blue but wide with curiosity.
She settled down in a plush chair grabbing a book from the table beside her, it's thick leather binding creaked as she opened the book. The cover had been something written in old Vesturan, a long dead dialect used only by those who still walked the path of the Templora Executivas. The religious sect of assassins. The book she knew was written about the hero of old Elizabeth but even more so about her apprentice Cordelia, a woman who few knew about. Her story was one of intrigue, a former priestess of Anveel turned acolyte of Meistra. Her deeds we're so we'll hidden by the fanatics of the goddess of death that most of it even to this date was speculation at best.
The book was a journal, one that Hecate had never set eyes on before. Yet in this great library here it was. She was sure that among the thousands if not tens of thousands of books nestled neatly upon the thick dark wood shelves. Many of which she was sure we're ones she had never seen. She slid a small piece of cedar wood between the pages to keep her place as she made painstakingly slow progress reading line after line of information. Hecate's surprise came as she learned that Cordelia had felt betrayed by Anveel, after witnessing Elizabeth be executed for one of the missions the pair had undertaken together. “ The stories of old have it wrong if this journal is anything to believe.” She muttered to herself quietly.
Hecate heard a faint knocking on the iron banded doors leading to the keep. “There shouldn't be anyone near this castle.” she said as she got up and slid the book onto the table beside the large chair and found her way out into the courtyard. There were two people…. No kids standing at the door. She walked up behind the pair shocked to find one with a bad looking wound. “Can I help you?” She asked the duo, her eye’s blue but wide with curiosity.