Post by Christy Riddell on Jul 8, 2016 21:47:11 GMT -6
Christy set the book upon the desk and pulled up an ornate chair that was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked. He began looking through the colored pages. Though faded, the paints used on the vellum were still brilliant. Christy was grinning, and his eyes were alight with wonder as he flipped through the pages. He wasn't reading every word, for there were a few students passing by every now and again, eager to explore the library now that it was opened again for the semester. He was contenting himself with just browsing through the pages for now. That was the biggest perk of working here - he had full access to every book on the shelves, even in the restricted section, and when things were slow he could fill up his time by reading them. Quite often he even carried a bag full with him back to the furnished room he was staying in here in the castle. He spent many evenings reading by candlelight until the sun came up. There was just so much he was fascinated by, especially within the history of the wizarding world, and he felt that he could gladly spend the rest of this lifetime - and perhaps the next - learning more about it than he ever thought possible.
He was studying one page in particular, studying its sketched illustrations, when the page began to blur. Christy leaned back, blinking a few times, then rubbed his eyes. He leaned back over the page filled with tiny script in a long-forgotten language, but the page blurred again. His brown eyes widened as the page before him shifted to another image. A symbol appeared before him, a type of spiral glyph. The more he stared at it, the more it seemed to be coming up off the page, like in some weird 3d illusion kind of way. And the more he focused on this spiral shape, the more it seemed to glow with an inner light. It grew brighter, and the spiral seemed to have come up out of the book to be hovering right in front of Christy's face. The light was blinding, forcing him to squint and look away. When he returned his gaze back to where the glyph illusion had been, it was gone. Looking back at the book only showed the original pages with their chicken-scratch script and illustrations.
Not quite knowing what to make of this incident, Christy quickly took out a piece of parchment and a sharpened charcoal pencil (he was sure he must've accidentally swiped that from some of Jilly's art supplies left in their apartment) and drew a crude model of the image he had seen. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was a whole lot of something. He'd keep the drawing with him and see if he could get a few opinions on the matter.
