Snippet #2320101

The morning could not begin early enough for Porfirio, as it could not for any man who burned with energy and whose duties were limitless. He woke well before sunrise, and after only a quick moment to collect himself from his light sleep, the High Guardian of Adelost climbed from his too-large bed and moved toward his dresser, bare feet padding silently on one of the many rugs that spanned his massive living quarters, this one a thick braided woolen rug from sunny Bokmakiri, that desert city far to the east. Porfirio didn't think that he cared much for luxury goods -- and a Bokmakiri rug was surely that -- but along with its almost gaudy splendor the rug was exceptionally well-made and durable, and so it stayed. Still he felt guilty as his bare feet savored the warmth that insulated him from the cold stone floor. The water that he poured into the wide, shallow basin at his dresser, however, assured him that he had not yet grown soft as he washed his face and hands without activating the ferrum glyph etched into the basin that would have warmed the water in minutes.

Soon he was dressed and out the door. Although the stone corridors of the keep were lined with evenly-spaced lumen glyphs that could have lit the way with their steady glow, lumen crystals weren't cheap and there were too few people awake at this early hour for the steward to authorize their use. Firo had made this trip each morning for the last two years, and could navigate it blindfolded. Besides which, the High Guardian hadn't grown up wealthy and had always done his reading by candlelight before his appointment here, and even though lumen glyphs had been in the castle for decades they were still a source of disquiet to him. Not that he feared them -- no, he was no simple-liver or 'Minimalist' as the fringe group had taken to calling itself -- but despite their proven practicality he couldn't help but regard lumen lamps with the same look that he would a barking cat or meowing dog.

He was the first of the Guardians to enter the Ironguard Room, as their council chamber was known. It was usual for him to be first, sometimes by even up to an hour, but it was not unheard of for another to already be up and about. Sleepless nights were common among the Guardians; despite their dedication and belief, their choices were hard as any king's or general's, and no sane man wasn't occasionally plagued by doubts. Still, today he was first, and he was glad for the solitude. He found himself drawn to one of the arrow-slit windows on the far side wall, and leaned against the stone with his arms clasped loosely behind his back. He could see the sun's rays just beginning to peak out over the ocean horizon, prodding white-walled Adelost awake. Glancing back at the folder he had placed on the giant oak table in the center of the room, Porfirio wondered what the day would bring.