Damian was exhausted. Tired to his very core, and neglecting to do his due diligence. The doctor wouldn't have let himself be caught accessing the area under the veil. With his back to Ms. Howard, he only saw her shadow stretching over him as he heard her voice. "It's me.." He called out to the witch, wand still in his hand. "I didn't want to worry you with this." The unspeakable, the mortemist, knew that he should obliviate her, and unburden her of the knowledge of such a terrible secret.
Damian knew what he should do, but he also knew what he could do. And he knew he couldn't do that to her. She'd already been through so much, and a selfish part of him needed to share this with her. With someone. Every day he cursed the name of Nero Nykto for hanging the weight of the Death Chamber around his neck. "It can't do anything if we don't read it." Letting his wand slide down his tattered sleeve, Damian turned to look up at Jane, a hint of shame in his eyes. "This is where we keep the bad ideas. The tomes and grimoires that have to be hidden away until we find out how to safely destroy them. It's dangerous to even think about these books outside of this chamber, not to mention speaking of them."
Ideas could be dangerous, and knowledge could be a burden. If there was anyone he could trust, it would be Jane Howard. His shoulders felt a little less heavy when she was around.
__________________ In over his head
Last edited by Helios Sunrider; 11-26-2021 at 09:14 AM.
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