Quoted By:
What did you want? You glared at Magnus, and were tempted to just say <span class="mu-i">You</span>, but that was obvious as it was unlikely to get what you wanted from it. So instead, like you’d spent all day thinking about it, you spoke right from the heart. “Y’ asked what I wanted. I want a lot of things. When I was little, it was the same, but I knew better than t’ think I could get any of it. That’s not so now. I want t’ be somebody not just worth the life I’ve been given, but worth loving, worth havin’ somebody like you who’s good enough t’ fight for. I know I deserve those things, and I wanna prove I do. And show anybody thinkin’ different, that they can’t decide that for me.” You crossed your arms tight against yourself. “That’s just for myself. You can’t give me that. What y’ can give me, though, is…” You trailed off for a second. “I don’t know much ‘bout old court rot, but there was something like a knight getting a favor from their maiden, for luck or well wishing, right?”
Magnus frowned at you. “Well, yes, but that implies that <span class="mu-i">I</span> am the maiden..?”
You reached out and played with a lock of his hair, black as the sky above. “Yeah? You gonna give me it or what?”
He thought for a moment, then reached into his pocket, taking out a piece of shiny blue silk folded into a it was covered in decoration. He handed it to you. “There.”
You opened it up- it was perfectly clean, unused, though faded from age rather than use. “Somethin’ from home?”
“No,” Magnus said, “I bought the silk from a wasteland merchant and embroidered the text and decoration myself, to make a tract.”
He could sew. He could cook. He could fight. What more was there to say?
“It is from the Chronicle of Morginn,” Magnus said, taking your quiet as a request to explain, “The First Saint, who ventured to the Isle of Prophecy when it rose and recorded the commandments of the Judge Above, and spread them to the world. Though to be more specific, it is from the final piece of it, that some might call apocryphal, since that is when he ceases recording of the first and foremost laws of the Judge, and devotes to the sacred texts a chronicle of his own existence. The sum of himself, and the man he was before and after he found the fiery light of Judgment. A space for humility after divine proclamation. That and some parts of it are why some of the Cathedra debate upon its inclusion in the greater Chronicle and its meaning, but that is hardly why I carry it. It is because of what it says.”
You looked over the red embroidery. It was in a language you didn’t know. “This ain’t Old Vitelian. It’s Old Nauk runes.”
“Yes. It is the script that the Chronicles were written in before the fall of Nauk Imperial sent the Cathedra westward.”
“So what’s it say?”
