Bentley listened, tail thumping now and then in excitement or in contentment, depending on the words East happened to be speaking at the time. And when at last the final question came, he granted a wise old "Um-" before settling back down again, hastening to (carefully) turn the pages of the book--forward, this time, and not back.

He studied it, scrutinizing with furrowed brow.

"It says... they found the flowers. There's more of those spots, though. It says they grew 'like... corpses'--those are bodies!--'from the sickly earth,' and, uh. Uh. 'Granted vish... vish... Vish-uns. Visions.' Here-" and here Bentley cleared his throat.

"It says, 'I have found them! They grow like corpses from the sickly earth, granting visions of our...' uh. I don't know this word. Dee-mise? '...Of our demise, and our ascension. It lays the paths before us, and all I need do is follow.'" Bentley scrunched up his nose. "Do you want me to see what happens next-? This book isn't super long but--there's more after this, at least," he pointed out.

But he was treating it as something of East's secret. He wasn't going to push ahead in the text unless invited to, or asked to; it wasn't his book. It wasn't his secret to uncover.

@East

"From the earth, huh," East remarked, beak clacking shut to mull over the continued passage's contents. Some tension that'd passively gathered in wings dissipated now in light of this new information shared.

Strange though it was after confirming one of his grimmest suspicions about the book, being possibly wrong about a minor detail like location made much more positive impact than expected. A significant weight lifted off shoulders, unburdening him partially of what had begun to seem an oracle's view on death; it appeared the true source of those premonitions—at least according to the flower-hunting author—grew for better or worse where others could find them.

"Bodies instead of fancy decoration... I guess we'll be seeing more than the tree after all then if that's really the phrasing." No point in refusing to look down any avenues that the long deceased reopened. Time-consuming as combing through prospective candidates in the gardens would be, pictures and disconcerting talk might serve well enough to shave off whatever additional minutes otherwise would have been spent fumbling for the appropriate white bloom.

As for the predicted fate of this forgotten pathfinder?

"Ah, yes, I wouldn't mind if you finish whatever's before the next image. I've a hunch it won't paint the prettiest sight, but better to have the full thing than a work in progress. You're being a mighty help here, really."

@Bentley

Nose and claws worked delicately to shift the next page over, a curl and a soft thwap seeing the thin parchment drift to join its fellows on the left. Bentley studied this next page: a page that held a drawing of what looked like a strange ritual circle. Red, pillar-like stones were inked, or maybe chalked, onto the pages--faded, a little, but they seemed to be gemstone, and their surroundings looked like snow or ice.

The next page--on the right side--held more text, this in what appeared to be a new set of handwriting. While someone who could not read might not have been able to see subtler differences in script (or maybe they would from a more artistic point of view), Bentley was relatively familiar. It took him a few long moments of scrutiny but he at last, if hesitantly voiced his opinion. "I think this next bit was written by someone else again? It looks like it, at least. The letters are longer and... sharper? Anyway..."

He settled in to read. "'I found this book in the field outside the palace. I was going to turn it in. I was. But I think the ascension-... it's real. Someone drew this circle, and it wasn't me, but I know it. I know it! It's the tunnel that goes to the ocean cave. I'm going to find it. I'm going to ascend.'" Bentley squinted down, falling silent.

Dark red-brown spots touched the bottom of this page, too.

@East

And so the pattern held true. The book had started yet another cycle abandoned and blood-spattered. Despite the lack of a body, the end result for this author must have been much the same as the one who'd started this whole quest. They'd died or rather, as it was beginning to dawn on him, shed their earthly vessel to reach some higher state of being.

It made sense in a twisted, nonsensical way; after all, hadn't the flowers been said to show a Gembound's demise as well as their uplifting? The visions must have granted the full process to them, and the illustration at their entry's end had been a step of it drawn before they followed through. Shown a prophecy, they'd decided to fulfill it in their search for greatness. Who knew whether it'd actually worked out or been mere self-destructive delusions of grandeur though.

He supposed if he entertained the fantasy of the ascension being real, it would explain how the book had ended up back at Cepheus, a location far from that "ocean cave" tunnel he already suspected to be Fornax. Perhaps, if the Narrator had no role to play in its convenient spot then, this newly empowered author had brought it here in hopes of giving another the same opportunity as them. That seemed more likely than the outcome being caused by random chance; near the Palace was a good place with enough foot traffic to deliberately place a book for some clueless soul to stumble upon.

"Yeah, that sounds just about how I figure it'd go." East's voice ran on a steady stream of thought, distant and contemplative, while he stared off into the middle distance. "Instructions for disaster given a much sweeter name."

But incomplete ones? He knew besides the circle and its red stones, a last image came afterwards. Were those other black pillars a representation of this ritual's aftermath, or were they another sordid event entirely?

He blinked the world back into focus and regarded Bentley again. "Sorry for taking up time this much, but thank you. I'm sure you'd prefer getting back to that gab about clouds over this old pile of confusion," he noted with a chuckle. "I... well, I best get to digging up actual dirt on those flowers. See if our artist here was talented enough to make them accurate."

@Bentley

Some of East's initial speech Bentley didn't understand, but he assumed the bird was talking to himself. He listened with polite quiet, though curiosity sparked in him. Then East addressed him directly.

Bentley's head came up higher, ears pricking up and eyes lighting with enthusiasm. His tail swept side-to-side with enthusiasm. "No! It's fine! You're welcome!" Each word was full of friendly reassurance. "I hope it helped. It is good just to have visitors," he added, scrambling up to all four paws.

With his nose, he carefully closed the book, then stepped back with tongue lolling. "I hope it helped," he said again, earnest enough to perhaps forget that he'd just said as much moments before. Or maybe he was curious, but didn't want to intrude, so this was what he unthinkingly fell back on. He shook himself, then, as if wet--dust flicking from his fur--and blinked at East. "Um--do you want help, at all? With the--flowers, or anything?" He paused, glancing around, then grinned at the bird. "I like books, but I like adventures, too. But it's up to you!" Worry, then, as if fear he'd overstepped, flicked through his gaze. "Just if you want help!" he hastened to add.

@East

Overeagerness or ulterior motive?

Up until that brief flicker of concern had momentarily banished Bentley's wagging tail and doggy smile, a great deal more trust had been extended to him than most others deserved. A foolish move perhaps, but the blame belonged to the fact he'd thus far given every impression of being a more open book than the one whose rustling pages had just been shut. Compared to its many dead or uplifted Gembound scrawls, the writing on his page seemed plainly inked and bold: an upbeat canine enjoying his job and the benefits it provided.

Were it not for the niggling insistence that reading ill-fated ambition might foster someone else's own, East would have accepted the help after a few seconds of reluctance. Instead witnessing surefooted sociability falter sharpened his gaze, and time dragged on a moment longer. Every strand of fur or twitch of ears was picked apart for deeper intentions. Once it became clear the librarian was layers of fluff and no vicious snarls in between, scrutiny dropped with a literal tip of the hat.

"If it's no trouble to you, that sounds fine. You'll have more of an advantage, this being your stomping grounds and all."

Besides, the Narrator might gain some satisfaction from another soul to chronicle. They dangled their motives out of reach, but even the deaf couldn't miss the unsubtle prods made. At risk of entangling someone in an ages old web of secrets, he'd take the offer and spare himself from invisible judgment. Less of a migraine to nurse that way.

@Bentley

East saw truly: the only thing ulterior about Bentley was how he tried to hide his desire to help behind his politeness, so as not to force himself into the situation. It wasn't that he was a stupid creature, but really, beyond the reading and the attempt at cultivating a scholarly mind, there wasn't really much going on inside that brain. He wasn't thinking about motivations and possibilities: just the very vague, exciting idea of "an adventure."

The dog pushed up, shook himself, and pranced cheerfully past with lolling tongue. "Okay! Oh-!" A pause, as he stopped to let East take the lead. "Are we going now?" He'd made an assumption, and he was pretty sure it was right but now he was pausing to correct it nonetheless. Tail drooped a bit as he waited: not disappointed, but just a waiting period, as if he expected permission to regain that excitement again.

"Where did you want to search? There's gardens with a lot of flowers? And the tree-places," (Bentley didn't really have a word for the thin, manicured stands of trees that dotted Cepheus's fields) "they have flowers in them sometimes."

He stepped back, then, opening the doorway to East's departure--and leadership. The books, for now, he left behind.

@East

Not the sort of bird who enjoyed strutting about and fanning his feathers, being looked at as some kind of authority figure took East aback. Asking guidance from him made about as much sense as gathering flowers in a wasteland: while a selection of plants did manage to thrive in harsh conditions, plucking them was foolhardy as their defenses often prickled and burned. He cocked his head at this unexpected attention before dismissing the snarky remark begging to be heard at such a first question.

Maybe assumptions were wrong, but Bentley seemed simple. Better to not cause confusion. Furthermore, the attitude might be misinterpreted as unnecessarily snappish which was entirely not his intention.

"I was thinking now, yes. Unless you've got books to order first?" Before taking up the mysterious tome in his beak, he decided, "Let's try the gardens. If nothing works out there, then we'll give those trees a look-see."

Once certain the other's duties were entirely dealt with, a flutter of wings announced East's launch from his perch and following glide through the doorway. Onward they'd go to the flowers and a better understanding of their haunting purpose. Here's to hoping these visions were not insidious enough to ensnare even him.

-Exit East

@Bentley

"No!" he assured, immediately contradicted by a sharp backward look over his shoulder and an "Um!" Clumsy bounds carried him back to a thick, dusty book open by the fire. Teeth tugged the old bookmark down--red silk, by looks--and his nose carefully flipped the book closed and nudged it farther from the flames. Yes, the fire had a safety grate, but embers weren't always cooperative, he'd learned.

He then took off toward East, excited and dutiful both. He would help! He would have an adventure! They would do--something!--fun together! He had no idea what the real story behind this new book was, but it was amazing that it seemed to invite them to embark on a real adventure instead of (in the manner of all his other books) describing adventures others had had.

When East fluttered out, Bentley followed along, tongue lolling and lips curled up in a smile. His golden eyes were bright with excitement and his tail--untamed--wagged happily behind him.

exit Bentley; @East (for visibility!) also, up for a second thread if you like!