Humans are a curious existence. In no way superior to other sentient races but at the same time spread to many worlds. While there are worlds where humankind is enslaved, in most they form the top of the food chain. Their talent is generally average, their bodies weak and even their souls are nothing to be envious of. Which poses the question: What makes them so special? They can not live harmoniously in groups. They are greedy. Short-lived. Though they do procreate exceedingly well. Could that be their advantage compared to elves, dwarves and the like? It could also be that all other races do not perceive them as a threat until it is too late?
-About Humans and the Secret of their Success, written by Absendur
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Zyros also observed the many different shops lining the street. There was a general goods store, a few small restaurants and cafés, and various other types of stores. Zyros, however, was most focused on those that catered to professionals. A store for magical accessories, one for weapons and armours, one for books and he even saw one selling different kinds of beasts.
'This street offers just about everything, doesn't it?', Zyros thought.
He had walked maybe a kilometre and had basically found a shop for anything, he could imagine and some things he couldn't. For example, his brain had short-circuited when he saw a shop that offered "a magical beautification" for "energetic young ladies and enduring middle-aged lords". He didn't even want to know what was up with that.
Zyros simply sped up trying to leave that place behind. He continued on for more than thirty minutes until he thought about stopping and asking for directions once more. Before he could decide, the road he followed led him onto a giant square. On the side, directly across from where he stood, he could see a new city gate along with a city wall, beyond which the houses formed a large and sprawling city mountain, on top of which lay a huge, magnificent, white palace. Judging by his lessons on city design, the higher up that mountain you lived, the higher your status was considered to be. And a side remark of Markus, allowed Zyros to identify that palace as the base of the Council of the Seven Realms of Humanity, Randjal.
To the left, there stood a large, white building, its architecture resembling a Roman temple, not that Zyros would know, on which it said in large golden letters "Great City Library of Fayford". He guessed that that was his destination though he couldn't help but feel intimidated by the size of the building. Zyros wondered whether the guard had spoken true.
'It can't hurt to try.'
Zyros made his way across the square towards the library, fighting through the torrents of people in his way. It was exhausting but he reached his goal nonetheless. Having travelled here from the city gate for an hour, he needed to take a break next to one of the pillars of the library's front. After recovering he slowly climbed the entrance's stairs to wards the large rectangular door. The door was open, each wing golden, forty centimetres thick, about ten metres tall and two metres wide. Simply put, they were massive. Zyros wondered how they were even moved.
The interior of the library was similarly supersized. There seemed to be multiple floors but even still ceiling was at least fifteen metres high. One had to wonder for what kind of beings this library was built. Or maybe the city simply had too much money on hand at that time. The bookshelves almost reached the ceiling and were filled with orderly rows of books. Ladders were used to reach those higher up. The building itself was kept white and golden while the shelves were fashioned from brown wood. The floor featured an intricate carpet which seemed to fit in with the rest of the room. It was probably chosen so that steps wouldn't cause too much noise.
That was another fascinating aspect of this library. Zyros could observe a great number of people but the atmosphere was completely calm and quiet. It seemed surreal. He could see some people whispering with each other but even those close to Zyros didn't seem to make a sound.
Seeing a young boy standing at the entrance of the library, completely enthralled, a librarian approached him.
"Can I help you, sir?", the librarian asked respectfully, judging Zyros to be important because of his apparel.
Zyros who was abruptly awakened, quickly took out his blackboard and scribbled down his matter, being careful not to make too much noise:
[Good day, sir. I was told to come here to apply for a job as a library assistant. Could you possibly point me in the right direction?]
The librarian seemed confused about the blackboard but still pointed him towards the right side to what seemed to be a reception desk. Next to it was an inconspicuous door with a sign, saying: All applicants through here.
Watching Zyros's departing back, the librarian silently commended Zyros for coming up with such an ingenious way to prove his writing qualifications by writing everything instead of speaking.
Zyros, on the other hand, oblivious to the misunderstanding, simply walked through the door, arriving in a much smaller and sensible room with a few rows of chairs and a new reception desk. The chairs were all empty.
Zyros approached the desk.
[I would like to apply for the position as a library assistant.]
The clerk gave him a surprised look and stood up.
"Follow me."
Zyros did as he was told.
The clerk led him a series of doors and corridors which all seemed to belong to the administration part of the library, until they arrived at a larger more prominent door which probably led to the office of the head librarian. A plaque on it said: "Alistair Thrombey, the Keeper of Knowledge".
The clerk knocked and, being asked to come in, opened the door to enter. Zyros simply followed.
"Lord Thrombey, a new applicant for assistant position has arrived.", the clerk stated succinctly and left Zyros behind in the office, closing the door as he exited.
The office was rather small and cosy. A solid, wooden desk dominated the space behind which sat a middle-aged man. Alistair Thrombey leaned back in his chair that looked more like a throne, and gestured towards the two chairs in front of his desk.
Zyros sat down.
"You are a curious one, Zyros. Mute and, according to your mind, you haven't existed up until this morning, appearing outside this city with nothing but a name and some clothes. Explain yourself. I am intrigued."
Zyros was speechless.
See, that's a pun. I do that.