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Room 2: The Archives - Towering tapestries stretched from floor to ceiling, their threads impossibly vibrant despite their apparent age. Each depicted civilizations unlike any found on Earth. Some showed familiar constellations above unfamiliar landscapes; others portrayed cities suspended beneath oceans of stars, or kingdoms ruled beneath enormous crystal moons. No two scenes appeared to belong to the same world, yet together they felt like fragments of an impossibly vast shared history. Toward the back of the gallery, the mood shifted. The woven scenes became darker. Figures that appeared wholly ordinary slowly transformed from panel to panel into twisted, monstrous shapes beneath the shadow of an immense crowned being whose face had long since faded from the fabric. Nearby rested ceremonial masks, broken staffs, and a blackened crown from unknown worlds. None were labeled, and they seemed a little out of place despite being paired with the tapestry. Whether they commemorated myth, history, or something in between was left entirely unanswered. One thing was certain: the universe has always had monsters. And someone had made them.
Lyon stood before one of the enormous tapestries, squinting towards the top as if he’d be able to make out what was up there any better than anything that was eye level. There were animals he didn’t recognize, and plants, and symbols, and even the people didn’t look like people.
He wasn’t much of a connoisseur of art, but he understood it was supposed to be subjective anyway.
He just had no idea what he was supposed to be seeing, or feeling, while looking at this one.
“Hey, Effie.” He tilted his head, looking over his shoulder. Amarynthos and Ephesus were just behind him, looking at another display. “You do art stuff. How long do you think this would take someone to do?”
It didn’t matter if this wasn’t the sort of art Atticus was known for; Lyon just decided Ephesus must be the most knowledgeable about it anyway. After all, how many people had fathers who had an art gallery?
…Also, a different kind of art, but Lyon wasn’t splitting hairs.
Amarynthos swung Ephesus’s hand while they looked at a smaller tapestry, though theirs depicted a crystal city with beautiful stars mapped out above them. The thread glittered, like crystal had been woven into the silver thread. They’d been trying to identify the constellations.
Dering, while still within the general perimeter of the group, stayed somewhat on the outskirts of their circle. He’d gravitated towards a smaller tapestry, with a single cracked crystal moon above a dark forest. The silhouette of forest creatures barely stood out against the dark threads shaped into trees, but he thought he could make out the shape of a unicorn–or, maybe that’s just where his thoughts were fixated. He was in a bit of a dreary mood, not as mousy as he tended to be, but more resigned. It didn’t stop him from keeping a little smile on his face, but he didn’t try to hide the confusion as he tried to make sense of the tapestry.
Guine
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