[hr][hr]
[center]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989952-34dd-77e2-88e8-b6226c136e67.webp[/img]
[hr]
[color=5b8a9a]Location:[/color] The Library
[color=5b8a9a]Grimore:[/color] N/A
[color=5b8a9a]Skills:[/color] N/A
[/center]
[hr][hr]

The corner of Nicholas's mouth twitched in amusement at the shifter's comment. True, Callaghan was unfortunately dependent on the young and novel for the sake of his life goal. He couldn't say he cared for anything other than his and his brother's skin to that degree, but he could appreciate the steadfast devotion to the ideal, especially with Nicholas and Barty doing their damnedest to change his course, drag him far away from his care for the survival of a whole and just focus on himself - it would be easier for him in the long run. 

Nicholas felt warm at Callaghan's offer. Offers of help were usually pushy, demanding, [i]invasive[/i] like they owed you after and Nicholas had always loathed it. Callaghan's felt like a warm cup of rum left at your elbow on a rainy day and it was one of several reasons the dragon's presence didn't grate on his nerves. He hummed at the offer, but left it at that. Hopefully, he could deal with this quietly and the fact it was ever an issue would just fade away from everyone's memory.

He settled in at the table, accepting the journal with a thoughtful frown. The spot Callaghan brushed against on his hand was warm and he brought his hand to his lips to press a kiss to the warmth. There was history here that would need to be unpacked. [color=5b8a9a]“Yes is the simple answer.”[/color] Nicholas murmured. He was afraid to open the diary of a madman, afraid to know what revelations the moth learned, afraid what this would bring back most of all. [color=5b8a9a]“But I do not know that I have the luxury of secrecy if we wish to see this through. Should my stubbornness demand I drag my feet, I suffer longer and run the risk of failure but should I bear my history, what color do our sins paint us in the light of day?”[/color] He sighed, tapping the journal lightly on the edge of the table. 

[color=5b8a9a]“The witch hunts slaughtered our family, salted our earth, and scattered us to the winds on fire and soot. I certainly have poor opinions of this assignment.”[/color] Nicholas flipped open the journal and scanned a few pages. [color=5b8a9a]“This man, though, was certainly mad. Half of this is intelligible gibberish.”[/color] Nicholas blinked as his eyes teared up briefly, wiping them clear with quick efficiency. He frowned and flipped a page back and forth, holding it up to the light. 

[color=5b8a9a]“Callaghan, can you look at this? I could have swore I saw something different for a moment.”[/color]