[It's work suited for a sorcerer, yes, but not a teenager who until a few weeks ago assumed magic to be strictly the territory of fiction. Of course, from Wilhelm's perspective it's not the work isn't suited for him — he isn't suited for the work. The subtle difference is self-deprecation.
But when the mages presented a potential solution to the nightmares haunting every corner of the castle, a pathway back to sanity, he volunteered anyway. He makes himself useful by gathering tomes and scrolls pertaining to the topics his more knowledgeable teammates request, clearing away the texts that turn out to be dead-ends, and circulating pages of notes around the room. More than once he makes the trek up to the dining hall for coffee.
It's not especially glamorous or heroic, but it's better than waiting. Keeping his body and mind busy also keeps his thoughts from sinking too deep. Every waking minute now, he feels as if he's on the precipice of the next nightmare. As if, if he so much as closes his eyes for a second, that thing, that shadowy figure, will find him again.
Wilhelm is busy sorting through a stack of books — of the leather-bound kind that look intimidatingly important — when Stephen addresses him. Except, he doesn't realize that he's necessarily the one for whom the question is intended. It's only after an awkward length of silence that he glances up to discover that there is, in fact, nobody else in this corner of the chamber at the moment.]
Oh, uh... [He clears his throat.] Not good. I mean, I guess I've never tried, so I don't know.
no subject
But when the mages presented a potential solution to the nightmares haunting every corner of the castle, a pathway back to sanity, he volunteered anyway. He makes himself useful by gathering tomes and scrolls pertaining to the topics his more knowledgeable teammates request, clearing away the texts that turn out to be dead-ends, and circulating pages of notes around the room. More than once he makes the trek up to the dining hall for coffee.
It's not especially glamorous or heroic, but it's better than waiting. Keeping his body and mind busy also keeps his thoughts from sinking too deep. Every waking minute now, he feels as if he's on the precipice of the next nightmare. As if, if he so much as closes his eyes for a second, that thing, that shadowy figure, will find him again.
Wilhelm is busy sorting through a stack of books — of the leather-bound kind that look intimidatingly important — when Stephen addresses him. Except, he doesn't realize that he's necessarily the one for whom the question is intended. It's only after an awkward length of silence that he glances up to discover that there is, in fact, nobody else in this corner of the chamber at the moment.]
Oh, uh... [He clears his throat.] Not good. I mean, I guess I've never tried, so I don't know.