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((The Mon/Wen/Fri Double -- page 1 of 2))
They were all handwritten, of course. And all the words were so hastily scrawled that Emiliana struggled to read them.

"I want your honest opinion!" said Ibai. "Don't try to spare my feelings! I'll never improve, otherwise!"

Even as he spoke, Emiliana could see his hand still scribbling.

And abruptly, she felt compelled to ask, "Have you eaten today?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I think so. If not, I'll get something later."

She frowned. She'd noticed that he was looking a little thinner, recently. And of course, this whole writing craze had only started after Ibai received the news of his father's death.

It was no mystery why Chergoa was constantly fussing over him.

And the reaper was right there next to Emiliana, so when she heard that, she demanded that Ibai take another break and go to the refectory that very moment.

Ibai laughed at her insistence, but he did as she said.

Emiliana intended to follow, but first, she lingered a bit longer in Ibai's tiny, makeshift office. She had no idea how he could work in such conditions. So cramped. And aside from all the books and stacks of writing materials, all he had in here was a small table with a lamp on it--both of which looked so ancient that they could fall apart at any time.

She wondered if there was anything she could do to improve his circumstances. Maybe she could talk to Gohvis about finding him a more spacious work room. Or a computer, at least. Were there even any in the Library? She hadn't seen one, but she'd learned that this building was still hiding plenty of secrets when Gohvis had taken her on that eerie visit to the Weaver.

Which was another thing that had been on her mind a lot: the conversation she'd had with that... creature.