The music box had been an incredible find on its own, and there were undoubtedly other treasures hidden about Elysia’s private quarters but Tempesti would have to save that search for another day. At least she’d have something to show for the trip if the search for the dead senshi’s notes turned out to be a failure. Nothing in this room looked as though it would be any place she would have kept her writings. Despite its dilapidated state, it was clear that Elysia had placed a great deal of value on ensuring that everything had its proper place, whatever time had done to undo her meticulous attentions.

The door between the bedchamber and the study was far thinner than the ones intended to keep the senshi in, its pointed arch form filled gracefully by a stained glass door accented with intricate golden tracery. The image of a selapeth stared back at her from an elegantly rendered flowering tree, glass feathers shimmering as its talons clutched a glittering purple gem. Gently pushing it open Tempesti found herself standing in a small, surprisingly cozy chamber. Though the room itself wasn’t particularly large, it seemed surprisingly comfortable. A haven, perhaps, from the debilitating fear that so completely inundated Elysia on an almost constant basis. Pressed against one wall, a wooden bookcase held what appeared to be stacks of vellum stitched together with inexpert persistence for an effect that while not exactly prepossessing, seemed to have been effective. Carefully, Tempesti took the nearest stack and placed it on the wide desk before her. It didn’t take too much examination for her to realize this wasn’t quite what she’d sought, consisting instead of what appeared to be an odd mix of alchemical formulae and musical notation in Elysia’s sometimes barely legible hand. Briefly pondering what exactly had crossed her predecessor’s mind to make her combine the two, she grabbed two more volumes from the shelf, flipping through them as gently as her excitement would allow. Diagrams for music boxes, drawings of the city as seen from the Tower, sketches of unfamiliar faces. It was easy to picture her at work in here, trying to make sense of a world in which she was no longer allowed to participate.

After claiming another stack from a lower shelf, the sight of delicate illustrations of Tempestine flora provoked a flutter in her stomach. Elysia’s script did not make the task an entirely easy one, but as best Tempesti could decipher she’d discovered at least part of her notes on her botanical research. The accompanying drawings, however, appeared to be remarkably precise by comparison. Pulling out her phone she began comparing her photos to each ink rendering, finding names for the strange plants she’d discovered both in the Tower and throughout the city. Notes on medicinal or other alchemical applications. Documentation of her work in merging different species, crossbreeding flower varieties to create new cultivars, trying to find ways to perfect the plants in her care. It was odd, really, seeing this side of Elysia. So many of her memories had been defined by her fear, it felt like a luxury to find such concrete proof of her love.