"The «Exodus» occurs when a world is struck by absolute destruction, sending every organism into another reality, forcing them to fight an alternative version of themselves, replacing them in order to survive".
{That’s all?!. This library has thousands of books!. I spent the last seven hours reading, and all i could found about my situation is a single sentence, and one that doesn’t even encompass the entirety of the event!}.
Closing the old book, along my eyelids, a long exasperated sigh escapes from .
{It’s hard to not be upset. My life was far from perfect, but it was more than decent}.
Grabbing the stack of books. I walk to the reception desk, where a mature, beautiful woman is ready to assist .
Her black hair with grey locks is tied back in a wide lower bun, her contemptuous green eyes shine brightly behind her glasses, remarking her fair skin and serious attitude.
{Spinsters must keep their hair tied in a bun, or keep it natural. A social marker accepted in many Cities, but is a known law in Clamour}.
The voluptuous exuberant curves of the womanly Librarian, are bewitching, but they are so large that it is difficult to believe they are real, and not the result of a dical procedure perford by an expert plastic surgeon.
{This world has so many marvels, i should cup up with them}.
This is especially true, because the woman facing , looks like if she were in her early forties, but her age must be close to a century and a half, or perhaps a few decades more.
{Not that i have a problem with it}.
"Did you find what you were looking for, Young Gentleman?". She asks evenly, her mature voice is as spellbounding as her welcoming presence.
"Not entirely. But being stripped from my world. I am a bit lost...". I say earnestly, i don’t like lies. But seeing the softer and amused expression of the Librarian, along a mild smile in her gorgeous face, it’s worth the hassle, reminding why i enjoy being honest and upfront to the point of being brash.
"It’s better to learn it fast than later Young Gentleman. Life hit us all the ti, sending us to the ground or beneath it. But as long as you are alive. You can rise again".
{I am aware, and now i know exactly what i am going to do. «Whatever I Want», and if that goes against what the Mirror wants to achieve, that is a sweet bonus that i will gladly enjoy}.
"Indeed... , My Lady. Could you enlighten further with your wisdom?". My fingers brush her’s when returning the batch of books i read.
"aning?". Her wariness is firm, but she brushes her finger against mine, repenting imdiately, without breaking her serious persona.
{She has life experience. Pretty words won’t work. Frankness is my best choice to reignite her adventurous spark. I know her embers are fading, but they are not extinct yet}.
"Honestly. I need to relax my agitated state. Do you have a suggestion to cool off?. Or blow so steam?". I tilt my gaze to the elongated triangular prism with a gold tal plate that has three words engraved on it. «Librarian Cresseida Cresset».
"Do i gave you the impression of an Old Hag that has short temper?".
"No. But you seem to know how to have an entertaining ti, Cresseida".
I call her by the na without honorifics to emphasize my intention.
She bats her eyelashes and shakes her head once. Amused and wary, is evident that she has understood , trying to turn down politely.
"I am not like what you are seeing Young Gentleman. This locks of hair are silver".
I hardly manage to grasp the aning of her comnt.
In Loutharn, those who have two or more tonalities in their hair, are seen as impure.
Not to ntion talized hair is relatively rare, losing its bright, shiny luster when a person exceeds three centuries living without the vibrant goals that fueled them in their youth.
A normal occurrence after living for a millennium without seeing their dreams coming into fruition. But as always, depends on the case, and the person.
"Real Silver?. Not grey?". I inquire, denoting my interest, as well as how inconsequential it is to , that she has two or more colors in her hair.
Cresseida is montarily stupefied by my reply, blinking shortly, putting a flat, nigh condescending smile as she hints to the shelves behind . "Like her...".
Out of the corner of my eye, i see a Young Sophomore. She is stretching her body, standing on her tiptoes to reach out for a book.
Her silver hair is pristine and lustrous, like silk made of actual talized slivers.
"Back in my days as a Freshman. This locks were more tallic than her. Now, has lost its shine... , Like ". She comnts with a good attempt to underplay her gorgeous attractiveness.
Comndable. Understandable even. I am younger, handso, relatively promising, and my hair is dark indigo. Plus, my family is renowned to the extre, which is why she keeps referring to as Young Gentleman.
"This outco is to be expected". I state. "It doesn’t matter how valuable or beautiful sothing may be, if it’s not properly cared for, it will undoubtedly gaunt".
"Oh!. You expect to look after ?!". She almost laugh. I rapidly shake my head before she can react. "No, I expect you, Cresseida, to take care of ".
She laughs regardless, although it is not an amused mocking sound, if not a coquettish giggle.
Realizing her motion, Cresseida shakes her head in negation, whether to regain her bearing, or to self reflect on her actions, it’s hard to tell.
"Young Gentleman. Your world must had been entertaining".
I correct her. "It «Is» entertaining. We can discuss it in deeper detail, if in return you tell about yourself Cresseida".
She contemplates the possibility, and i know she will give in, because most of the people who go through an Exodus, have lost their worlds of origin, when in my case, returning to it is not an attainable goal...
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