The scholarly Coatl approaches the fae curiously, narrowing her eyes before clearing her throat. Behind her, her Stardust Scholar is flipping through pages of some books he had been requested to carry for her.
"Oh, hello there! You are Myria, yes? Oh, yes, good. I was instructed to bring you some books! My name is Raven, by the way. It is good to meet you!" The Coatl grabs one of the books with her prehensile tail, passing it to her claws to look at the cover before passing it over to him.
"It was written by our Clan poet, Penfell." She explained, a twinge of sadness in her voice. The cover of the book read,
A Collection of Poems, Vol. 1.
"A few of us have gotten the chance to read his words, they are very lovely!" Raven piped up, glancing down at the book with her glittering pink eyes. "He was a romantic, a very deep thinker."
The tome itself contains page after page of hypothetical love letters, poems about romance, and his feelings. They are all hopeful, sweet, and lovely.
The Coatl ponders this for a moment, before perking up.
"Oh! We have this second one, as well." She passed forward a second one, more weathered than the first. The cover of the book read,
A Collection of Poems, Vol. 2..
The tome itself contains more love poems - he was in the midst of a romance, happy and boisterous. The name Khelgar repeats itself throughout many times. However, at the end - they take a lonely, sorrowful twist. Khelgar went to war.
"I have a few more, right here." Raven is patient as ever, and tosses down the third and fourth volumes of Penfell's work. A Collection of Poems, Vol. 3, and A Collection of Poems, Vol. 4.
They read about his loneliness and worry as Khelgar is of to war, and how he doesn't think he will be returning. Those leaving off to go serve the Arcanist never come back, after all. However, all of his letters to Khelgar had been painstakingly transcribed into the pages, and the ones he wrote were loving, sweet, and kind.
"And, ah. Here's the last one we have." Raven spoke up once more, setting down the final book. It has pink rose petals somehow glued and pinned to the cover. It has no title.
The book is a collection of poems, his final ones, before Penfell went off to war. Some of them are poems, a pondering of existence and war and what it means to be a dragon. He was an existentialist while he still had a pen in his hand, and some of the poems trail off into just journals and scribbles and drawings. However, his final poem thanking the dragons who housed him was sweet. He had written hundreds of beautiful lines of words describing the greatest characteristics of his fellow Clanmates, before deciding at the end he must go off to serve the Arcanist in hopes of finding Khelgar, too.
"That's all we have, frankly. I don't think you'll find my research notes to be too interesting, and I don't think I would feel comfortable publishing them, yet." Raven piped, glancing up at the Fae. "However, if you promise to take good care of these.... I think I could pass them onto you." She explained. "Penfell was our Clan messenger and poet - you will take care of these, won't you?"
