Books. Filled with pages and pages of chapters. Some of these said books, which Mornstein had read a select few of them, were suspended in the air. The room seemed empty of any psychical life, but Merriweather knew someone was in there.
"Archimedes?" He called.
"I'm up here Merriweather," a voice said back.
He looked up to the ceiling to find the, sorcerer as they called him, sitting on one of the large chandeliers. He spent most of his time in the library, rearranging shelves and taking count of how many books were currently in the library. His phoenix, Dota, was calmly perched next to him, her large wings folded back. She was the only animal in the castle, as Mornstein was allergic to dogs, and Merriweather, to cats. Dota cocked her head. Archimedes whistled and Dota became alert. Archimedes then proceeded to jump off the chandelier. Dota latched onto his back and spread her wings, making Archimedes look as if they were his own wings. She let go when he was almost completely down and he landed perfectly safe and sound with a small thud against the padded carpet floor.
"What are you needing Merriweather?" He asked calmly.
He then noticed Mornstein's condition and, by instinct, his ears raised.
"We, got into a bit of a fight. It's just his cheek and both of his hands," Merriweather said quietly.
"Come again? I didn't quite catch that. You were talking too low," Archimedes said, taking Mornstein, who then dropped his weight against the sorcerer.
Merriweather sighed before speaking again.
"We got into a sword fight..." Merriweather muttered in a desolate tone.
"It's fine Merriweather," Mornstein uttered. "Both my hands are my own fault."
"You boys make me worry sometimes, you know?" Archimedes said solemnly.
Merriweather's ears folded back. He looked at his brother's face, which at the time was wearing a weary look. The blood loss had done it to him. Archimedes had Mornstein sit down so he could start on his hands. His cheek would be no problem. Mornstein's eyes sunk to the floor, their dullness in color making Merriweather uneasy. Archimedes had him pull his gloves off so that they would not be in the way. Mornstein had assumed he would've used some sort of magic to fix everything. Archimedes, having seem his fair share of blood and lacerations, paid no mind to the sight. Though, Merriweather had pulled a hand towards his mouth, and Mornstein, kept his eyes off his hands and resumed looking at the carpet.
"Your physiognomy worries me brother," Merriweather said, again in a desolate tone.
"Hm...?" Mornstein was paying very little attention, as his concentration was for the moment blurred.
"Your expression is a bit uneasy Mornstein," Archimedes said.
"I can assume so," Mornstein muttered drearily.
He then winced as Archimedes ran a finger over one of his lacerated hands.
"How tight of a grip did you have on that blade?" Archimedes asked with a somber voice.
"Pretty damn tight," Merriweather murmured.
Mornstein hadn't thought he had gripped the sword that tightly. Then again, he couldn't really remember. It was hazy in his mind. But he knew he grabbed it. His other hand though, was from catching his own sword at the wrong end. He may have been a good swordsman, but at the time, he was too blinded to bother catching it correctly. And it was besides the point. What was on his mind had nothing to do with what they were talking about now. And he wouldn't bring it up. It would be a more private manner with Archimedes later.
"I didn't know I had seized it that tightly," Mornstein uttered.
It didn't seem important to him. But he assumed it was to Archimedes, as he had continued to just, stare at it.
"Is something wrong Archimedes?" He asked quietly.
Archimedes sighed, and with a small gesture, beckoned Dota to his side. Merriweather, knowing what Archimedes would do, calmly shifted his back against the wall, his arms folded. He knew that, Dota being a phoenix, could easily heal Mornstein's wounds, with tears. He also knew that Dota was emotionally attached to Mornstein, as she was to every individual in the castle. Mornstein quietly placed his hand on her head, which then made its way under her beak. She nuzzled his hand gently, knowing of his injuries.
"Hey..." he said quietly.
Dota looked at him, and without hesitation, started up. Mornstein stayed quiet, and continued to rub her face. He sighed heavily, starting to regret his decision to fight back. But he figured he had no other choices. He looked up slightly, catching his brother's attention. Merriweather stayed quiet though. He didn't want to risk the start of another conflict. It wasn't needed. Mornstein looked at his hands after Dota had stopped. His cheek was well dry, the blood covering his cheek almost completely. Archimedes had cleaned it up, and then looked at the cut itself.
"Looks a bit more like a bad paper cut," he said.
"I swung pretty quickly," Merriweather murmured.
Mornstein rubbed his hand against his cheek, and as he did, a somber look spread across his face. Merriweather took warning to it.
And chose to leave.