Instead of going to his bookshelf, Bishop walked into his bedroom. I followed to watch him open a second bottom in a chest for clothes and pull out a huge, old tome.
It had thick parchment pages and bound in leather almost grey from cracks and time. But like the house we were in, it was well-kept and held no trace of dust where I could see. Bishop held it as gently as if it was his baby as he passed it to me.
"I remember every word of it. Nevertheless, please, be careful, my lord. The pages are fragile. Not all that's written in the book is prophecies—part of it is Prophet's diary, so I think you will find the answers you seek there, but I will be glad to hear any questions you might have. Do you want anything else while you read? Refreshments?"
"Bring me any sweets you have in this house, and something to drink."