The local librarian had petitioned for assistance with the storing and sorting of the books he currently had, which were exceedingly abundant as a surplus in them had been necessary for the wars.
Sable arrived after travelling to Kikka, hoping to enlist in the church under the spirit sylph.
The young paint mage was just a regular citizen, and as such did not the regalia of a magical knight.
Only looking to provide assistance, the librarian pointed over to a large pile of unsorted books, Sable had only just entered before work was thrust upon him.
It wasn’t the most menial or meaningful work, but every little bit helps.
A few scrolls depicted charming illustrations that accompanied written adjacent books took his attention, for a time he actually enjoyed visiting the royal capital.
The pictures were obscure and required a rudimentary understanding of alchemy for transmutation.
A thing that Sable couldn’t really boast an arguable knowledge on, as he visited the local apothecary for such things.
To cure a wound was not overall a difficult experience, most superficial wounds required rest, ice, compression, elevation and referral to a greater power.
Labelling the books and fixing the damage that some of them had gone through was far from tedious work, he cherished filling in the blank pages with nice little themed pictures.
Sometimes replacing outdated words with newer, more relatable contexts for some books.
Others were mouldy and required burning, far from the library; he was warned not to breath the smoke, which was as wise as Sable could figure himself.
The archivist had not really understated how many books there were that needed shelving and to be honest, Sable didn’t really over estimate either.
First he colour co-ordinated them but the Librarian shook his head saying that would not do at all.
Many books were authored within governing authority subjects, and colour co-ordinating them would only give a tactile advantage.
He instead was asked to sort them according to author, within the categories of fact and fiction.
The factual statements, reports and paperwork’s from the magic knights work were sometimes unbelievable.
Recounting daring tales of rescuing people, transporting magical items and even battling horrific creatures.
The last time the library had been sorted was listed too, it was surprising how quickly this place messed itself back up.
Many civilians quietly walked past him while he was lost in reverie reading a novel about fishing.
Sunshine was scarce in this place, the windows were far off the floor, giving way to magical means of artifices to illuminate the darkness within.
Candles were not considered appropriate in the library for obvious reasons, they had lost a good portion of the library itself to a careless noble carrying a candle through the halls one evening.
They now only permitted non-flammable means of searching the library after day hours.
Closing their doors at seven, Sable relented to work more by dusting the shelves on which the books sat.
Nothing really poked off the shelf or had been misplaced after the dutiful citizen; Sable, breezed through the shelves.
Holy contextual pieces were thick on the way to non-fiction, finding their place in epistles and letters to various figures in the church.
Chronicled conversations between mighty people were prolific through the non-fiction section, autobiographies of fallen knights that outlined their lives and achievements.
How and where they had served the kingdom of Clover, all her within the shelves of the library.

Many things were taken out of context, and put into different languages and re-shelved.
Not being a linguist, Sable scanned the books for anything meaningful and was coming up short.
After so long of staring at such worn covers in fading light was starting to drag on Sable’s nerves, his sense of accomplishment dwindling as he finished signing another fifty books back into the library.
All the while signing books out as citizens and civilians flooded in, quietly, processionally like a church.
People who had better things to do than larceny, people who could find reprieve and solace in a quiet night with a book.
These weren’t bad people, they had bookmarks and would tell you when they were in need of help.
Rather than helping themselves or bending pages, they respected the service the librarians and the kingdom provided for them.
People of recourse, who knew that no good deed goes unpunished.
The more they reciprocated and tended for the books, the greater resources they would have at their disposal.
Education for the masses would increase, enthusiasm for an agenda, priorities for the benefit of all Clover citizens.
Autumn was falling around them, outside was a windy overcast day.
The afternoon was very nearly spent quietly shushing people that were talking too loudly.
Providing his services was equal parts in service to a greater power and a secret fervour that he fanatically attended to.
Tranquility and temperance, dwelling peacefully amidst the noise.
Had Sable found peace inside himself?
He certainly found reprieve in the pages of the novel he was reading.
It almost warranted him picking up a pencil to do more than sketch, very nearly, the temptation passed quickly.
Leaving the library with a satisfied expression, Sable dozed off on the carriage ride home, it took him nearly two weeks to travel to the capital and that was in favourable conditions.
Nothing to lament over, his thoughts tended to keep him company as he looked out upon the landscape.
Autumn was always a time of harvest, fruit was falling off the trees as were the leaves.
The tropical smell of spoilt fruit ravished his nostrils, the seasonal aroma was intoxicating.
He stopped momentarily for lunch, which consisted of warm stewed apples and chocolate.
When within walking distance of his home, he picked up an old fishing pole he had left out for moments dissimilar to this.
He sat down reading a book, fishing off a small dock.
Using worms for bait, a spinning leaf for a bobber and a small rock as a sinker it wasn’t long before he got a nibble.
The fish was large enough to fillet and fry, an appetising end to the day.
Roasted potatoes accompanied the dish and Sable enjoyed having enough money to spend the following day.
It had been a long day and now, some weeks after helping out in the capital, he was home.
Relaxing, reading and being well-fed were all things Sable could boast about.
He would have to travel to get the book back to the capital, but after he had read it, he knew it had been a good idea.
After visiting the capital, he got to stay in a few hospitable taverns at the expense of having lingered a little longer than he would have wished to have done so.
There was no convolutions in his planning, he would visit the wizard king’s office and petition to join the church.
He wanted to serve a greater purpose than menial, monotonous tasks that served few people.
When would he get a chance to promote real change for the better of all the kingdom?
Soon, perhaps, few could tell him and he regarded superstition and grand allusions to greatness with varying levels of suspicion.
The librarian had sent a letter ahead of him in a vassal that travelled faster than a carriage apparently, his pay was waiting for him upon his return.
Excellent, Sable hardly even had to wait, although his patience was far from wearing thin, it wasn’t infinite.

Word Count: 1,256.