With a soft thud he closed another dusty tome, his nose wrinkling away as it tickled in the thick tepid air of the still room.

Never a man to wait, he hated this. How he would so much more prefer to just find the answers he seeks by running his blade through something. Or perhaps turning a one time friend into an enemy to pay his price of knowledge. Or better yet, he smiled to himself, to seduce the answers out of a fair person's lips. Flesh is so much more fun than paper. He then glanced to the shadow mage that had been doing her own research for hours, without even the hint of a response. Another sigh as he slipped back into his own thoughts while browsing lines of texts in the stacks of books beside him.

No ambition they said, the thought roaring in his mind despite his eyes doing their best to stay on the subject at hand. Only known for the women I bed, a mental growl, and not a flicker of respect for it. He wondered if he had grown petty, and the thought in his mind burned into his prideful psyche as returned scorn battled with resigned recognition of the truth. He grimaced again as his eyes caught something of passing importance in his search, jotting the note down in a well calligraphed hand.

Finding this source at an end, he glanced up to the tall mirror a few feet away. How many hours had passed? He saw his features, normally so well kept and animated, long and gaunt, tired and disheveled. A spiteful dolority had taken him over, but his eyes shimmered. I will see this through. The pride that made him, drove him when it was made to look like foolishness. There was a time when I mastered the six sutras, this will be but another mountain I must climb.

He rubbed a tired temple and turned back to open another tome, his back aching in the chair but willed to be unnoticed. Anything and everything about Zanshibon, demonic bindings, pacts, and Succubi in particular.