Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (cont'd)

Of course he loved reading! "Certainly. I come from a very long line of scholars; the library is the Ash family's pride and joy. Hundreds of years of documents and literature from everywhere on the continent, even beyond. Poetry, fiction, biographies, autobiographies, essay anthologies..." Gaius trailed off; he was gushing. "It's truly a sight to see," he finished.

"It sounds incredible." Aleth noted Ash's enthusiasm, filing it away. What a person chose to take pride in was usually telling.

"Perhaps I will show you when you're fit to walk," Gaius replied. The librarians would keep a tight rein on Al if he did end up taking an interest in the library. They were notoriously good at their job.

"I'd like that," Aleth answered with a small smile. He'd like it even more if he hadn't denied literacy and could actually get away with mining some of the secrets. But that was another matter. "I doubt I'll fully appreciate its quality, but it sounds impressive nonetheless."

"The binding alone is a wonder to behold," Gaius assured him. "All manner of material can be found on the books--we even have one bound in human skin." That had been an interesting find; he'd been on that expedition.

Aleth's eyes widened and he raised both eyebrows, intrigued. "It sounds like that book holds numerous stories."

"Interestingly enough it was a diary of some sort." They reached the main hallway leading to the infirmary. "By a woman fleeing a plague of some sort, I believe."

"Does she say whose skin it is?"

Gaius nodded. "Her son. She came from a continent many leagues from here. The culture she comes from apparently believes a person's history is carried on their skin. When someone dies, they bind a book in that person's leather." A morbidly fascinating tradition that Gaius himself rather agreed with. A person's story was carried on their body forever; every scar, stretch, and freckle was a chapter of someone's life.

"Gruesome," Aleth commented coolly. He'd never been much for trophies, but he supposed that it was a fine tradition, if a bit eccentric. "Putting your present within someone else's history."

"I'm sure if one were to write a book one would find symbolism in there somewhere." Gaius did crack a proper smile this time; he'd been considering writing a book about the Ohnek culture.

Aleth smirked. Maybe Ash wasn’t so bad after all. “If only we had a philosopher to tell us what it all means.”

"Oh, you can throw a stone and hit a philosopher," Gaius scoffed. "I make up my own mind about things."

Aleth's smirk widened. "Perhaps you're the philosopher then."

"Need I repeat myself?" He started down the hall. "Anyone who has an opinion can loosely be considered a philosopher, can they not?"