Imperium

Chapter 23: Play Many Parts

Regan timidly peeks his head around the stone-walled corner to see into the archive that Elder Haegen directed him to after the individual introduction was done. The Elder decided Regan would best fit in with the research department, run by a man named Quintus.

He's heard a few things about him, and he's quite intrigued to meet a fellow admirer of the art that is Shakespearean literature. However, he's also apparently the oldest member. He's older than even Elder Haegen, but he still follows his rule faithfully.

Regan looks around the massive room. Three of the four walls are made up entirely of bookshelves filled row to row with old texts. The room has a loft area, a spiral staircase sits in the back left corner that leads up to it. The furthest wall from the door has a large map of Eutria, and pinned up around it are various charts and schematics, and in front of this wall is a desk piled with stacks of paper and books.

Sitting behind the desk is an old man with long white hair tied back in a bun and a long beard that hangs down to just past his neck, and he has wrinkled pale skin, dusted with freckles along his cheeks and forehead. His green eyes rest behind a pair of glasses with small, slightly dented, metal-rimmed lenses. He's dressed in long dark grey robes that look like he's been wearing them for centuries and thus they've become a part of him.

Regan slowly enters the room and clears his throat. "Um... Excuse me, Proctor Quintus?"

The old man doesn't even look up from the book in his hands and he just waves his hand towards a corner.

"If you have a delivery, just leave it on the table and be on your way. I'm busy," his gruff voice but lighter tone raises and falls in an odd cadence.

Regan purses his lips. "Uhh, no. The, um... Elder Haegen told me to come meet you. But if you're busy, I can always come back later."

Quintus lifts his head and looks sideways at Regan from across the large room, and his brows raise before he grumbles and shuts his book, slowly standing up.

"Ah right... the newest recruit, yeah? Before we begin, tell me. Are you another one of those 'just shoot your problems away' muscles-for-brains types that typically come knockin' to join up with the Coalition?" he asks irritably.

Regan scratches the back of his neck and shakes his head. Since when has it been this hard for him to meet new people? Probably since Aramora. New people there weren't always the friendliest. Is he becoming Cree? Paranoid? Nah.

"No sir. I personally prefer settling conflict with the sharpest weapon of all: Intellect. If battles are won with fists, then wars are won with wits," he shows a smile.

The proctor narrows his eyes at him and says nothing for a moment, just staring in silence and making Regan try to stand still and not fidget.

Quintus's stone-face never wavers. "'All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players:" he pauses and waits unshakingly.

Regan jumps in instinctively, "'They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.' As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII."

The old man shows a faint shadow of a smile and nods his approval. "I think I can make use of you, boy. What's your name?" He steps around his desk and meets Regan in the center of the room.

"Regan Angevin, sir. I look forward to working with you," he says, trying to keep it formal despite his jump in excitement over finally finding someone who understands his passion for Shakespeare.

Quintus cocks his head to the side and looks down, past Regan.

"And... is the little one with you?"

Regan looks down at Reela, who is standing and looking around in awe, but with a timid glint in her eyes and demeanor. He looks back over at the old man.