[ elias sighs, and picks up a piece of paper off his desk and hands it wordlessly to trevor.
it's written in German, the statement of a man in the late 1880s who was followed by what he calls a demon of fire. he had lost his entire family, workplace, and any place he lived in for more than a week.
the statement isn't complete. ]
I can translate for you, if your German is a little rusty.
[ but he goes to his desk and opens a drawer, rifling through a few sheets of paper until-- ]
Here you are. Nothing to do with the Desolation, but that can't be helped.
[ it's a letter, dictated by a legate of the roman army who has recently come stationed with a legion of soldiers in Hispanic Baetica.
he tells of how much he misses the senate back in rome, of how barbaric the local populace is here, and of various goings on in the camp. the legion had recently been stationed at the very southern coast, near the pillars of Hercules, and the legate recounts a dream in which he wades out into the meditteranean ocean and attempts to swim from the shore of Baetica to that of Mauretania Tingitana.
the dream has come to him every night since he came here, he confesses, and he cannot but think it is an omen.
of course, he has feared the water since he nearly drowned as a boy and has avoided the ocean for all the months he has been stationed here, but there is, in these dreams, a sense that if he does not make the attempt soon then there will be dire consequences.
the letter ends with an entreaty to the recipient to again ask for his transfer away from this legion to any that is sufficiently far from the ocean.
Whether Trevor reads the whole thing or not, Elias waits for him to look up and adds: ]
He was found dead in his tent a few weeks later. Lungs full of seawater.
[Trevor is not the scholar that Sypha is, nor does he have the benefit of a classical education like Adrian. But he also isn't stupid: it just takes him longer to translate in his head. He sobers up as he reads, exhaling and handing it back once he's done]
[He empathizes with the man from 1500 years ago, and knows he's probably talking to someone who's never empathized with anything in his life. Trevor shrugs, and removes himself from the bookcase]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
it's written in German, the statement of a man in the late 1880s who was followed by what he calls a demon of fire. he had lost his entire family, workplace, and any place he lived in for more than a week.
the statement isn't complete. ]
I can translate for you, if your German is a little rusty.
no subject
If it isn't Romanian, French or Latin, I can't read it.
no subject
I do have one here in Latin I wrote up the other day, if you're interested.
no subject
no subject
[ but he goes to his desk and opens a drawer, rifling through a few sheets of paper until-- ]
Here you are. Nothing to do with the Desolation, but that can't be helped.
[ it's a letter, dictated by a legate of the roman army who has recently come stationed with a legion of soldiers in Hispanic Baetica.
he tells of how much he misses the senate back in rome, of how barbaric the local populace is here, and of various goings on in the camp. the legion had recently been stationed at the very southern coast, near the pillars of Hercules, and the legate recounts a dream in which he wades out into the meditteranean ocean and attempts to swim from the shore of Baetica to that of Mauretania Tingitana.
the dream has come to him every night since he came here, he confesses, and he cannot but think it is an omen.
of course, he has feared the water since he nearly drowned as a boy and has avoided the ocean for all the months he has been stationed here, but there is, in these dreams, a sense that if he does not make the attempt soon then there will be dire consequences.
the letter ends with an entreaty to the recipient to again ask for his transfer away from this legion to any that is sufficiently far from the ocean.
Whether Trevor reads the whole thing or not, Elias waits for him to look up and adds: ]
He was found dead in his tent a few weeks later. Lungs full of seawater.
no subject
God, that's depressing.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
And?
no subject
[He empathizes with the man from 1500 years ago, and knows he's probably talking to someone who's never empathized with anything in his life. Trevor shrugs, and removes himself from the bookcase]
I should get going.
no subject
I can't interest you in a cup of tea?
no subject
no subject
[ he resettles the papers on his desk. ]
Thank you again for the milk.
no subject
Sure. Leave the bottle outside when you're done, I'll come get it.