He inspects the orb without picking it up. He can feel the memories radiating off the thing already, and he is not ready to delve into them just yet.
Unlike nearly everything else in the room, not one mote of dust rests on the orb’s surface. What’s more, a ring about an inch wide around the perimeter of the orb is also completely free of dust, as though the orb itself is actively keeping the space clear. Eifan notes this with interest. He is certain that the orb is a memory sink, filled with traumatic recollections, left here for someone to find.
Was it meant for a Chanter of Memory, such as himself? Or for someone else, someone without the ability to manage such a flood? Eifan shudders at the thought. Even for a Chanter, such a deluge would be savage. For anyone else, it would be total madness.
He reaches for the orb, then hesitates. He can already feel its resistance. He knows it does not want to be found, does not wish to be touched, to be unlocked. Perhaps it would be best to leave well enough alone.