There are still enough books left that it still sounds like a library, at least: all that dust and those rows on rows of bound paper swallowing up noise, turning it strangely quiet and muffled.
“I’m not surprised,” Stephen says.
He wants to be respectful — Julius had been beyond respectful when they were in the sorcerers’ old stomping ground — but he can’t help but think the place sad and dreary. There’s not enough natural light. Both Kamar-Taj and the Sanctum Sanctorum had skylights in their libraries, making it as bright and cheery as possible, to escape the usual dim gloom and eyestrain. His heart twinges oddly at the sight of this gutted room, imagining all the mages and apprentices that must have come and gone. There’s mouse droppings in the corner.
“What was it like? Before.”
The normal Circle life, departing it, all of the above; whatever part Julius feels okay discussing.
no subject
“I’m not surprised,” Stephen says.
He wants to be respectful — Julius had been beyond respectful when they were in the sorcerers’ old stomping ground — but he can’t help but think the place sad and dreary. There’s not enough natural light. Both Kamar-Taj and the Sanctum Sanctorum had skylights in their libraries, making it as bright and cheery as possible, to escape the usual dim gloom and eyestrain. His heart twinges oddly at the sight of this gutted room, imagining all the mages and apprentices that must have come and gone. There’s mouse droppings in the corner.
“What was it like? Before.”
The normal Circle life, departing it, all of the above; whatever part Julius feels okay discussing.