🔥 Иказкан -> Тезот

Ukon impassively observed the commotion. Standing at a distance from the crowd, near the exit of the location, leaning against the wall, he could easily trip someone, and the mustachioed fellow would have to rely on his agility or endure a blow to his leg. But that wasn't his business, and it didn't matter. Having imprinted the childishly simple, carefree Kanaev face in his memory, he leaves the location – deeper into the Community premises. After wandering through the dusty corridors, which hadn't been cleaned for a long time, and perhaps no one had even stepped foot in them – this guild isn't known for its active backend – he finally reaches the room he needed. Approaching the shabby cabinet, he pulls out a heavily worn tome. The faded cover shows traces of someone's greasy fingers, some pages are stuck together, and some have been torn out. Wrinkling his nose at the layer of dust swirling in the air, Ukon licks his finger and flips through the pages, filled with names, until he reaches the entry he needs – made years, or perhaps decades ago? – already half-faded. He had to apply considerable effort to open the stubbornly sealed inkwell and fiddle with the quill to get some ink from it, but he finally managed to do so. With bold, sweeping strokes, he crosses out his name from the Community members' register, slightly underestimating the fragility of the book and tearing a part of the page, just like the pigs who had damaged the paper before him. Blowing on the quill to help it dry, he closes the book and returns it to its place. Taking off his jacket and leaving only his cloak on his bare torso, he feels his horns, then takes a file out of his bag and begins to work on them. Usually, he wasn't too concerned about the smoothness of the cut, but this time he approached the task thoroughly and didn't give up until he achieved a perfectly even surface. Having also sharpened the axe, which was completely unnecessary, as he hadn't made a single strike since the last time, he puts away all his things and leaves the hall the same way he came. For the first time in a long time, he feels a draft on his exposed skin – an unusual, but not unpleasant sensation – and begins his ascent to the throne.