The Doors of Wisdom Are Never Shut [Ragman]

[Rhiannon Xind'ell-Anulindrael]

[House Al'lende]

4th Brightening of Aperitus, in the Season of Spring, Era I of the Celestine Mandate

Era XIII Post Fractum. The First Era of the Regency of Milo L'Evienne.

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And all your future lies beneath your hat, but in Rhiannon's case, it would have perhaps been her veil or carcanet. Of what sort, it mattered not - she was on a scholarly road that many of her erudite ancestors trekked. Her dear E'loir glistened before her with wisdom as once her mother did when she was alive; and she herself had a fondness for books and all such dry activities. There was the congenital expectation that she too would wade through pages alongside her mother, and a reality it became so, although with another of a different matrilineal connection.

Establishing a new home and family in Syl'rosya, rather, re-establishing her roots in the Elfhame, Rhiannon thought the best course to take to assimilate herself in a society with which she was not familiar, was to harvest in full knowledge of her Syl'rosyan historia. Verily, she was knowledgable of a few events that took place, the tragic King, the far away lands of Trelore, and other such well-grounded tales that her mother introduced her to, but to delve deeper into darker primitive areas, and even the events that took place recently were of things she desired to specialize in. She began hunting down valued tomes in her library at Megiltura, but found naught with extensive information; so thus, most conveniently, as she was wont to do, the youthful arwen explored on foot the beauty of Restwood as she made a brief journey to Anulindrael Cheb. Once there, she called upon the grand lady of the house to inquire about tomes of Elvish lore and historia.

In the midst of the entry, stood Tristram.

"Ah, Bird! Come to visit your loving brother!?" He was in a jovial mood, and he expressed it so with a bow and a kiss on his sister's forehead. "Riconus fares well, I hope? Married life isn't a bore, I ween, because you seem a little desiccated."

The lady pursed her lips from uncertainty, "Come again! What ever do you mean? Where is aunty? I wish to speak to her of something very important!" Rhiannon whipped passed him, holding a hand out in his face to defy his witty tongue.

"I said you aren't lively. She's in the study your Nibs, and you're welcome," said he in response, still cheerful of disposition.

Rhiannon walked a long way thither, dragging her dusty skirts that attracted leaves and Carmelya-knows what species of creepy crawlies from her odyssey through the arboreal haven. Her face was flustered, a healthy appearance so marked by the fervent glow of her cheeks. Upon arriving, the girl hoped to find her Aunt to inquire about historical documents that waited for her therein one of the greatest libraries of all Telath.