Behind the wall of books, the library feels hushed and private, the dust drifting in the window light like slow ash. C. S. Lewis and Parsley stay crouched close together, their shoulders nearly touching.
Parsley
I keep thinking, if there is a God, He must see all of this. Yet it still goes on.
Parsley draws a breath, then lets it out carefully, as if even that might betray him. He glances toward the aisle, then back to Lewis, relieved to find only books there.
C. S. Lewis
The room is quieter than the chapel, and no answer comes from it.
Parsley
At times I think the silence is the worst of it. One could bear a harsh man more easily than emptiness.
Lewis remains still beside him, the closed ranks of shelves making a narrow shelter around them. The school beyond the aisle is only a muffled pressure now, distant and ordinary.
Parsley
You do not look as if you mean to laugh at me for saying so.
Parsley manages a faint, tired smile, and the two boys linger in the dimness, listening to the settled quiet of the library.
✓ Quest Accepted
Share a quiet moment with Parsley
“I offer a small, reassuring nod to show him he is not alone in his thoughts.”
SUCCESS (Fair Willpower, rolled +3)
Lewis answers with a small nod, slow and plain, and Parsley sees it at once. The tension in Parsley’s shoulders eases by a fraction, as if that tiny motion has given him permission to breathe.
Parsley
He means it.
Parsley glances down at his hands, then back up, the beginnings of a steadier smile touching his mouth. The silence between them feels less empty now, more like shelter held in common.
Parsley
It is a comfort, you know, to find someone who does not stare as though one has committed a sin merely by speaking.
Lewis’s satchel shifts at his side, the edge of a textbook peeking out, and Parsley notices it. His eyes flick there, then return to Lewis’s face with a new, careful interest.
Parsley
What do you read when you are not being hunted by prefects?
The question hangs gently in the dimness. Parsley’s fingers stop trembling for the moment, and the narrow space between the shelves feels, if only briefly, like a place where a conversation can safely begin.
Quest Complete
Share a quiet moment with Parsley
“I tell Parsley that I read about Norse mythology, and I offer to lend him my copy of the book "Siegfried and the Twilight of the Gods", which I tell him is my favourite book.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Literary knowledge, rolled +0)
C. S. Lewis
I read Norse mythology, and if you like, I can lend you my copy of Siegfried and the Twilight of the Gods. It is my favourite book.
Parsley
Parsley’s eyes brighten at once. "Norse mythology? I should like that very much. It sounds grander than Latin declensions and safer than prefects."
He glances toward Lewis’s satchel as if it has become a small treasure chest instead of an ordinary school bag, then gives a shy, relieved laugh.
Parsley
What is it about it that you like best? The battles, or the strange old gods themselves?
Lewis’s textbooks rest against his knees while Parsley leans a little nearer, the gap between them narrowing in the hush of the shelves.
Parsley
He does not make a mock of it. He speaks of books as though they are worth sheltering.
✓ Quest Accepted
Share Norse mythology with Parsley
+ New Item Acquired
Siegfried and the Twilight of the Gods
“I describe the tragic nobility of the gods to him.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Literary knowledge, rolled +0)
Lewis speaks of the gods as kings under sentence, fierce in battle, yet unable to escape the dark end written for them. He sets Odin and Thor beside men who know they will fall, and makes their courage feel heavier for it.
Parsley
That is the kind of thing I mean. Not clean triumph, but something costly. It sounds more honest.
Parsley’s shoulders loosen as he listens, and his trembling fingers settle against the edge of the book. The satchel stays open between them, the title showing like a promise.
Parsley
Does it ever make the gods seem kinder, knowing they can fail as well?
Lewis lets the question hang in the hush of the shelves. Dust turns in the window light, and the boy opposite him looks less hunted for a moment, more simply curious.
Parsley
If stories can bear grief like that, perhaps they can bear the truth too.
From somewhere deeper in the house, a footstep passes and fades. Parsley does not flinch; he keeps his eyes on Lewis, waiting for more of the tale.
Quest Complete
Share Norse mythology with Parsley