I updated. Oh yes. This chapter was so stubborn; I knew what the chapter was about but the words resisted from being typed.
A tingle of awareness sparked between the intricate walls and her hand. What subtle magic retained in the faded murals recognized someone with that similar, albeit different, energy that made and fueled them once upon a time.
What a pity that they did not hold more of that ancient magic, otherwise her work would have been simpler and she would not turn to spreading the widest expanse of paper she could buy from Barnabus over the whole wall and to proceed to shade over the raised patterns with a piece of charcoal.
Her escort whistled at the size of the parchment. Probably, thinking what price she had to pay.
She wished he wasn't there; but the others did not let her go skipping into the hills without an army. She employed her haggling skills and wore them down to two: one outside to stand guard and the whistler with her to… she didn't know what he's doing inside with her actually. Probably to keep an eye on her in case she unwittingly revealed anything she hadn't divulged yet.
She was itching to unpack her satchel and fish out the equipment she needed and wanted to use for this project. They were not up to her professional standards but they would do. She hardly could fling about ofuda around and invite unwanted questions from her unwanted escort.
It was a pity. There were some etchings near the floor of the western wall that she was sure she hadn't seen in any other site before. Her grasp of the elvhen script was crude at best, given that she had to utilize all her linguistic/cryptographer skills in previous sites. Tengwar runes, they were not. But so much of what was once was was lost and mostly everything that had to do with the ancient elves were erased or bastardized.
She was not surprised at all - history was rarely kind to history.
Her arms were aching now. She put down her materials and stretched her cramped limbs. Only two walls were devoid of damage or vandalism; the mosaic tiles only dimmed by the passage of time and, her guess, by the cut-off from the energy of the fade. The shadings she acquired would be ample for a fortnight of study.
They were still not enough and they may not be what she needed.
Frustrated, she roughly took down the parchment from the wall; the abrupt action ripping the paper in half.
She groaned and put her head in her hands.
Footsteps echoed down the stone stairs and magelight illuminated the way for its owner.
Solas paused as he surveyed the scene: two walls covered in shade-filled parchment, another with a torn one, a soldier asking the Maker what he's doing with his life, and a human grasping her hair in frustration.
"Is everything alright?"
Apparently, two babysitters were not enough. Elvhen ruins meant feigned scholarly interest. Pfftt. Take this.
"Solas, do you believe in aliens?"