The Emperor's Scribe
THE INK WAS TO HIS left, a stack of parchment to his right, slightly behind.
Brushes were opposite the parchment, behind the ink, but in ready reach as needed.
The scribe sat, waited, watched. Listened and breathed.
A fresh sheet was in front of him. The ink had been ground earlier that day and stored tightly in its container, but now opened, also ready for use.
It was the early morning, yet darkness had not left.
A single candle lit the royal chamber, in front of the scribe, but more for meditation than illumination. For the scribe was known to write in absolute darkness with complete accuracy of form, never leaving a drop of ink where it would distract from the message he left.
The scribe was a Master.
And he waited before writing.
As a student the scribe wa
