Fillian Smedry was reading a book. That was a favorite pastime of his, reading. Well, presentime too. And probably futuretime.
Thankfully, this was a good book. Not boring at all. He turned a page.
Then he dropped the book.
Cursing, Fillian dove under the table, his Oculator's lenses falling off. When he dropped something, it meant there was danger. Well, normally. Sometimes he just dropped things. It was a blessing and a curse, but that's just how most talents are.
Fillian glanced about, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Ah, well. He got back into his chair, picking up his book and his lenses.
His back ached. I'm getting old. He thought. I need to stop jumping whenever my Talent engages.
Fillian opened the book again. He slipped on his lenses. And a brilliant flare of light blinded him.
Crying out Fillian took off his glasses hurriedly. He couldn't see the light anymore, but yet...he could sense something, pulsing in the west.
He put on his lenses again. The blinding light returned. He blinked, then stood up. He headed out the door.
If something was going to interrupt his studies, he was going to investigate.