[ One of his regulars... The slideshow of memories rushing through her mind comes to an abrupt halt on an image of her usual workspace in the Archives.
It feels like opening a box that has been stored away for a long time. Memories flood the forefront of her mind—long hours of reading and study, poring over books and maps and essays authored by fellow dreamwalkers, and the regular presence of the chief archivist. ]
Trahearne.... [ It's said more to herself than to him, but he'll probably hear it all the same.
Her forehead throbs, protesting the mental exertion of unearthing so many buried memories all at once. Zelda detaches one of her hands from the Master Sword's hilt and touches her temple.
Amidst all the mental effort, she didn't catch everything Trahearne head. But she's pretty sure she heard him say: ]
Two weeks?
[ Headache or not, the gears are still turning at full speed. ]
no subject
It feels like opening a box that has been stored away for a long time. Memories flood the forefront of her mind—long hours of reading and study, poring over books and maps and essays authored by fellow dreamwalkers, and the regular presence of the chief archivist. ]
Trahearne.... [ It's said more to herself than to him, but he'll probably hear it all the same.
Her forehead throbs, protesting the mental exertion of unearthing so many buried memories all at once. Zelda detaches one of her hands from the Master Sword's hilt and touches her temple.
Amidst all the mental effort, she didn't catch everything Trahearne head. But she's pretty sure she heard him say: ]
Two weeks?
[ Headache or not, the gears are still turning at full speed. ]