Minerva

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Along the pebbled streets laiden with soft snow, you notice one store front that is not lit. Unlike the others cased in ice and stone, this one is made of woven branches interlocked into a pefectly spherical opening, the den and structure beyond hidden by packed snow. There is a carpet drapped through the entryway to wipe one's claws of snow that is patterned richly in reds and golds. Dream catchers hang from the branches and books seem to be laying just beyond in front of a wooden door.
There is a sense of intrigue to this place as such that you cannot help dipping inside the circular entrance, brushing your feet on the cold, stiff carpet. You pause before the door, seeing warm light coming from somewhere deep within, surely a sign this place is open. So in you go, a small bell chiming as you crack open the door.
No one answers and as your eyes adjust to the light you see the most fantastical, utterly and absurdley unorganized array of books you have ever seen in your life. The floor of the store is small, quickly dropping away to a space below, seeming to house a vaster area underground, contected by an intricate spiral staircase. You move to the edge to look over and see an even greater clutter and chaos than you do up top, as well as the source of the glow, a warm fireplace tucked back far into stone to protect the books from stray embers.
The pillars and beams of the structure appear to be made of cedar wood with more branches wrapped around them like vines with trinkets tucked in them here and there. Candles flicker amidst the branches, possibly magic in nature; they seemed to add warmth as well as light, yet the wood the wax melted over was not burnt. Shelves lined every wall and between every pillar, and short, stocky shelves stood between them. Not all were at a straight angle, yet all were filled to the brim with books. The whole place was overflowing with books that in places they seemed to cascade out into piles from the shelves around them. Any wall that wasn't shelved had books stacked up high. Books of all shapes, sizes, colors, and condtions. Some upright, some sideways, some slanted. Some sporting wax from the candles, some sporting burns, teeth marks, scratches, metal tips, belts or even chains. As you peaked down the flight of stairs you could swear you heard a growl from the wall of books to your side.
"Hello?" You ask... realizing the place seemed to be unoccupied... or perhaps the owner was simply crushed under a pile of books. You would not be surprised.
Instead a gentle coo of an owl responded from above you, perhaps a familiar to help with the store, or perhaps an intruder from the local wildlife drawn to the warmth. As you look up it becomes obvious that neither of those were the correct answer.
An Aether dragon twines it's way down a supporting pillar above you to get a better look at your stunned face. An Ancient? Here? In the frozen lands of the South. Not only that but this Aether seemed off... owl-like even. She is adorned with fine gold filgree clips in her feathered wings; wait don't Aethers have soft plush wings? Her body was also adorned with more golden clips to hold up some ornamental vine jewelry and roses that almost appear to be real. She stares at you and you stare back at her bright, unblinking eyes. After a moment she grins, and the long, sharp-tooth mouth of an Aether appears underneath her beak.

"The books didn't mention you."

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____ INFO: Purchase Price: 600g Genes Purchased: Four Genes Crafted: One Offspring Available: No Total project cost: 500g + 525,000t [not including apparel/skin] CLICK FOR ARTWORK

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