11-19-2018, 11:57 PM
Jaxen mimicked Aiden’s own words. “A travesty,” followed by melodramatic tsk’s for the enormous loss. The missing pages of the Book of Leinster likely held the secrets to the universe itself, or at the very least, a map to golden treasures. He was neither amused nor dismissive of the apparent irony that himself and the Irish-Frenchman both took a liking to the tome. Given Aiden’s propensity for drawing on and on about fae and fiction, and Jaxen interested only in the most tangible of treasures, they may as well have studied different books.
But that wasn’t why the most impish of grins tickled his lips. He was almost gleeful as those knobby wands of fingers summoned a new set of images. They weren’t many, but the snapshots were enough.
“BEHOLD,” he exclaimed proudly, albeit coyly as he held the face cards to his chest, ever enjoying a good mystery, of the origin of such images.
“The lost pages of the book of Leinster aren’t so much lost as …” now there was irony in this, “…stolen.” The thief, for now, went undeclared.
The contents of the pages were apparent, though likely untranslatable to the naked eye. Luckily, Jaxen was a willing guide. “They go on to describe in some detail what are known now as treasures. Whether the Tuatha de existed?” he shrugged, finding the idea irrelevant. “These treasures, though, do exist, but hidden. So, my query, Master Finnegan,” a mocking bow accompanied the screens’ closure, “is whether you like road trips, because there be treasure at the end of this one. If ye are willing and able to hunt it?”
Jaxen was unlikely to be any more excited than in that moment. Until the knocking interrupted. At which point, the door revealed the outline of who stood on the other side. He nodded approvingly, then ushered Aiden’s decision before he was about to be kicked out in favor of better company.
But that wasn’t why the most impish of grins tickled his lips. He was almost gleeful as those knobby wands of fingers summoned a new set of images. They weren’t many, but the snapshots were enough.
“BEHOLD,” he exclaimed proudly, albeit coyly as he held the face cards to his chest, ever enjoying a good mystery, of the origin of such images.
“The lost pages of the book of Leinster aren’t so much lost as …” now there was irony in this, “…stolen.” The thief, for now, went undeclared.
The contents of the pages were apparent, though likely untranslatable to the naked eye. Luckily, Jaxen was a willing guide. “They go on to describe in some detail what are known now as treasures. Whether the Tuatha de existed?” he shrugged, finding the idea irrelevant. “These treasures, though, do exist, but hidden. So, my query, Master Finnegan,” a mocking bow accompanied the screens’ closure, “is whether you like road trips, because there be treasure at the end of this one. If ye are willing and able to hunt it?”
Jaxen was unlikely to be any more excited than in that moment. Until the knocking interrupted. At which point, the door revealed the outline of who stood on the other side. He nodded approvingly, then ushered Aiden’s decision before he was about to be kicked out in favor of better company.