His skin quickly began itching against the burlap. His wrap was one thing; callouses had formed on his lower half long ago. But this tarp all over his body was next to unbearable. He pulled his hat down over his face as far as he could reach and tried not to itch.
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
The cart rolled over a patch of rough ground, briefly getting stuck before Kivvien lifted and pushed it free. All around them was farmland, some of which was being worked by farmers who paid them no mind.
He eventually looked through the slats to see if he was clear to climb out and sit atop the burlap rather than beneath it, sighing heavily. He wanted so desperately to read something.
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
Kivvien glanced back at the cart. "Stay hidden," he said, "There are plenty of people around."
The nearest farmer was many paces away and distracted, but Kivvien wouldn't take the chance of being seen with this hideous thing for fear word would get back to the crown. No explanation would allow him to keep his position if they found he was colluding with such a thing.
He sighed and burrowed under the blankets, itching with all three arms. "Are there any books you might let me read?"
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
"I'm bored," he admitted reluctantly. "I'll give no input if you don't wish it. But if you have any material you don't mind me reading I would desperately like to have something with which to occupy myself."
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
Kivvien sighed. A book may keep the thing quiet, at the very least. He shifted his satchel out from under his cloak and dug around inside. There was an early book of his notes, from the very start of his experimentation. He took it out and dropped it wordlessly into the cart.
Hieronymus snatched it up. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir." He opened the book and started reading. Maybe he was making progress with the fellow.
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
Hieronymus nodded, studying the handwriting, the diagrams, everything.
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
"What are the--" He stopped; he was supposed to be quiet. His master wouldn't allow an outburst like that. He needed to remember what he was. This avioid didn't like him, too, which meant he had to be careful.
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
"I'm sorry." Hieronymus sat up. "The samples, the components. What might the uses of these things be? Any magical creature has some use, correct? My master only had access to one demon so his knowledge is unfortunately incomplete."
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
More than anything she wanted the world to be uncomplicated, for right and wrong to be as easily divided as the black and white sections of an Oreo. But the world was not a cookie. — Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes
