I pour through every page with awe. It’s been years since I’ve cracked open a book, yet alone found the time to. There is so much information for me, so much I can learn.

So far, this has been the best birthday gift I’ve ever received. I lean back onto my pillow and hug the books to my chest. “This is beyond wonderful!” I cry out to no one in particular.

Avion’s footnotes are on almost every page. Loose leaflets of parchment fall from between the spine and onto my bedspread.

“FIGHT FOR LUTON HOLLOW OR DIE A COWARD!”

“LUTON HOLLOW NEEDS YOU!”

They’re some sort of promotional posters for something. Men run into battle with amulets around their necks. The weapons they hold embolden with magic. Their faces convey bravery, their eyes alight with chivalry. I open the other books and watch as more pamphlets slip out.

“LEARN THE WAYS OF MAGES!”

“TAKE AN AMULET AND FIGHT FOR YOUR HOME!”

“MAGIC WILL BRING US TO VICTORY!”

Amulets and magic are common motifs in these posters. They’re mentioned as noble items, as something you should have, something to bring grandeur to your life. Even young boys were drawn skipping in the meadows with artificial magic at their fingertips. My chest warms with the power enclosed in the locket. It yearned for the appreciation this village once held for it, reached out to the past through the posters. I pressed my palm over the amulet, and it settled.

I take these posters and tack them to my door. I know there’s more, but this gift of information deserves to be treated delicately, to be taken in slowly like you would with rations. I’d put them in my dresser drawer, but my fingers want the sensation of the spines, of the cover.

The evening becomes a sleepless night, and I do not realize this until day breaks once more.

(If any of you are confused while reading this, this is part of the plot planner prompt thingie. This is the first time I’ve been able to post these publicly.)