Cardamom

The svelte black Ridgeback looks up from his book, one slender claw tipping his glasses back from the edge of his nose. Confusion is writ across his face, but then he focuses on you.

"Ah!" he cries. "A visitor! What was that you asked? My favorite genre? Why," he straightens up excitedly, a layer of dust settling off his wings, "I love the classics! Jayfox and Zerrow, the Serthis and the Owlcat, and the Lorekeeper are just a few I could mention; why, you've stumbled upon me as I read my very favorite, Toridae Mythology! The author, who unfortunately goes unnamed, goes in to depth with each myth, and even explains some of the historical facts that might have sparked these legends! Actually," he looks back down at his book, "I'd like to get back to it, if you don't mind."

As the Ridgeback turns to face you, a cloud of dust settles off his wings. It tickles your nose, forcing a sneeze out of you. Resting his gaze upon the visitor who questioned him, a smile quirking his lips, Cardamom replies, “Many dragons in the Freeflight City travel across Sornieth. Sometimes they bring me back books, scrolls, ancient stone tablets...many such objects have been recorded into the halls of my library. In fact, that is how the library began, so long ago.”

The big Ridgeback shrugs his wings, sending more dust drifting down and inciting another fit of sneezing.

“Of course, there are times where every dragon must be careful of what he brings to the Library. During the Night of the Nocturne, for instance, chests aren’t the only thing Mimics copy. I’ve had to handle quite a few cases of hungry books. All’s well that ends well, I always say, but suffice it to say that such things are placed somewhere where they can be a danger to no one.”

No matter how you prod, you can’t get Cardamom to admit where that place might be.