Soren's Room Archive
The first thing to notice about this room is the sheer lack of clutter compared to the rest of the house. Everything is neat, orderly,
put away. There is a desk in the corner, an oil lamp sitting on top, a quill and a tome sitting next to the lamp. Bookshelves dominate the opposite wall, color coded by cover and topic. The bed is a simple wooden single bed, made for someone who has little to no bulk to their person.
A single wardrobe sits in the corner on the same wall as the desk. A small wash basin is next to that, but there is no mirror. The walls are wooden slats, and whoever lives here has smoothed them out so there is no danger of accidental slivers.
Soren sat up in his bed, pausing as he realized that this was his room, not some run down inn where they had gone to sleep. Had it all been a dream? Some strange, vivid nightmare? Or was he dreaming now? It made no sense to him that he should fall asleep in the too soft bed next to Ike and wake up back in his own room. Unless something had happened.
The Archsage pushed himself free from the mattress, his mind a cacophony of ideas and images swirling around. If he was home, there was the question of how. If not, there was still the question of how and of why. After swearing to never leave him, someone had taken him from Ike's side. He would find out who and demand to be returned.
There was no panic, though. Just a small bit of resignation as he gathered what he would need for the day. At least his robes were here. He pulled on the black cloth over his white trousers, knowing that this small comfort would make him more confident. It was a rather unnecessary thing that he still found a reason to do. Wearing the layers made him feel safer even after all these years.
With his green wind tome in hand, Soren backed towards the door and put a hand on the handle, testing it. It turned with ease, and he left, in search of whoever or whatever might have brought him here.
||Continued in HH Her Way or the High Way||
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