Bran was in front of the great window that had once been a doorway marking the Great Library's Main entrance. During the night a stray gust of wind had shifted the direction of the shard in way that left the sun to rise directly between the two halls that ran to either side of the giant window in front of him. the long age darkened length of his staff lay on the ground next to him as he sat on the floor his legs crossed staring out at the sun that was slowly coming into view despite the fact that it had been over an hour since it had turned the sky a brilliant crimson color before fading to blue. He knew from some of the old books that long before the cataclysm the sun and the brilliant coloring that heralded the days arrival had come at the same time, and while the thickness of Fincayra's atmosphere still darkened the sun enough to provide four or five hours of darkness each day the sky still turned back to the daylight colors long before the sun could be seen from most shards. He had shown up a lot earlier than he wanted the others too, he would miss the entrance hall, ever since his mothers death he had come here to think and be alone, now that he was leaving the library he knew he wouldn't be able to come easily. He wore his usual clothing and had a heavy leather backpack laying on the side opposite his staff. in it was a few changes of clothing each the same as he wore, a spare set of boots that were died a dark gray, It also held two relics one was one of the dozen that had been found capable of mapping out earth shards after a few minutes, and the other was a hallow red tube covered with pierce work that from what the researchers could tell was able to translate most any language that had been encountered by the traveling Inheritors. A stack of neatly written papers lay in front of him, they contained all the information he could find about the world seeds, despite setting out to find him they had little to work with beyond legends. He had shown up early so he would have some time to think. really all they knew about the seeds was that there were several of them, each representing some physical or possibly spiritual aspect of Fincayra from before the cataclysm a few rumors and legends said that they were really the old gods that were sleeping until the world had paid for whatever crime had earned the shattering, others that they were simply the earth shards magically shrunken down. All he could tell for sure from everything discovered and heard about the world seeds was that they were rare, varied in size from as big as a man to the size of a pebble, and took on a lot of shapes. at least that['s what he thought, they could all be giant shards like the library that happened to hold secrets about how to use the magic that the Winged messengers had wielded before the cataclysm. He reached over his shoulder idly rubbing at the aching stiffness between his shoulder blades that was the curse of an inheritor. He slipped the stack of parchment into his pack and sling it over a shoulder as he heard the first person approaching. "Good morning and welcome." He spoke as he turned to greet the first through the door.