Tomas cautiously crept into the basement vault. Each footstep within the cold marbled entryway betrayed his presence, rivaled in volume only by his own heartbeat. He paused, holding his breath, his fingers nervously tugging at his robes, the delicate gold embroidery against the thick blue fabric denoting his status as a visiting apprentice to the great Goldaming Family.
The silence echoed back.
Exhaling in relief he continued forward, navigating through the darkened hallways by touch alone. He never should have let Yarva and Janikk talk him into this. What had he been thinking, agreeing to steal that book for her from the Library Basement? But now here he was, and damned if he wasn't going to have something to show for it, some secret tome of knowledge to rub in their faces.
Tomas briefly debated casting some sort of charm spell to light his way, but decided to trust Jarikk's warnings. If the basement really was covered in Antimagic Runes there was no way he had enough Imperium to use them up, much less cast anything useful afterwards. Best not to risk setting off any magical sensors.
"Magic is no match for discipline and hard work. No secret shortcuts await you here, only pain. Turn back, that you may save yourself!"
The voice boomed throughout the room, breaking Tomas' resolve and sending him careening from the Library. No dare was worth this. Not even for Yarva.
Trima stepped from behind her pillar, watching the frightened young man trip over his own robes in his panicked exodus. She snorted in amusement before narrowing her eyes. This was the third apprentice this week. Something wasn't right.
She surveyed the room intently, her eyes well adjusted to the darkness, before nodding the all clear to her trainee and slipping back into the shadows. The Council would hear of this. Tomorrow.
