Seeker of Truths

Claude walked the cobblestone streets of Littorbourg, his boots echoing softly against the uneven surface. The bustling coastal city stretched out before him, a maze of narrow, winding alleyways and broad thoroughfares crowded with people.

Tall, half-timbered houses leaned over the streets, their wooden beams darkened by age and salt air.

The scent of brine mingled with the earthy smells of horses, market stalls, and freshly baked bread. A cool breeze from the sea brought with it the sounds of seagulls and the distant clamour of ships creaking in the harbour.

Claude, however, was not paying attention to the charm of Littorbourg. His mind was elsewhere, spinning through his worries and uncertainties.

"Never would I have thought that me, someone embarking on the road of a mage. Someone who had literally travelled to another realm and fought monsters. That the same me would be penniless..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

Yes.

Claude had just hit upon a depressing truth.

He had no money.

Not only that, but he also had little to no clue how to earn it. After all, Claude hadn't lived in a particularly civilized place these past few years.

Surviving through magic and fighting creatures in distant lands hadn't exactly prepared him for the mundane challenges of city life.

'I won't actually have to sleep on the streets, will I?' he mused, his face remaining stoic despite the turmoil in his thoughts.

As he wandered deeper into the city, Claude's mind churned through possible solutions to his predicament.

Physical labor?

He quickly dismissed the idea. He wouldn't earn much, and it would drain the energy he needed for his real purpose in Littorbourg: investigating Elysium, a possible mage association.

Fishing?

He had no experience with it and no means to procure the necessary tools. As for relying on luck, Claude had an inkling of a feeling he wasn't particularly lucky.

"I need a job that isn't too physically taxing but would also help me learn more about this world," Claude murmured to himself. "After all, my understanding of this place is still at the level of a village boy..."

As his mind raced, Claude's eyes landed on a tall stone building near the heart of the city. His gaze sharpened, and a glimmer of hope sparked in his chest.

"Why did I forget about that!" Claude berated himself and immediately began moving towards the building.

A building loomed ahead of him, an imposing structure of dark, weathered stone and high-arched windows.

The roof was crowned with copper spires, now green with patina from years of exposure to the coastal elements. Above the heavy wooden door hung a carved wooden sign depicting an open book framed by a sunburst.

Claude pushed open the doors and stepped inside. At once, the air changed; the bustling noise of the city fell away, replaced by a profound silence. He was greeted by the sight of countless bookshelves stretching into the distance, filled with volumes of varying sizes and ages.

The room was lit by soft sunlight streaming through the high windows, casting a golden glow over the worn wooden floors and the towering shelves.

A few well-worn reading tables were scattered throughout, their surfaces scratched from years of use. The scent of old parchment and leather bindings filled the air, along with the faint tang of salt that seemed to permeate everything in Littorbourg.

At the centre of the library sat an elderly man behind a desk, peering through a monocle at the pages of a thick book. His white hair was neatly combed, and his spectacles perched precariously on the edge of his nose. The man's face was lined with age, but his eyes were sharp with clarity.

Claude approached the desk and cleared his throat, feeling a twinge of awkwardness as his voice echoed faintly in the vast room.

The elderly man didn't look up.

Claude coughed a bit louder this time.

"What is it you want?" the old man barked, his voice scratchy. "Can't you see I'm reading here? Darn kids these days… no patience."

"Good morning," Claude began, his voice trailing off as he glanced around for the right words. "I was wondering if..."

The old man snapped his book shut with a sigh and looked up at Claude, his eyes narrowing. "Well, come on then, spit it out."

"Right, right," Claude stammered. "I was wondering if you were hiring here. For a... librarian's assistant, perhaps?"

The old man raised an eyebrow, scanning Claude up and down with scepticism.

"You're literate?" he asked.

Claude nodded.

The old man seemed surprised. He tossed the book he had been reading over to Claude with a careless flick of his wrist.

"Show me," he commanded. "Read."

Claude caught the book and hesitated. It was a slim volume with a green cover, the title embossed in gold. With a glance at the old man, he turned to the first page and began to read aloud, his voice steady.

As the words left his lips, the old man's expression shifted from scepticism to surprise.

The man nodded slowly. "Well, well. Seems you weren't lying," he muttered, leaning back in his chair. "Not bad."

He stroked his beard thoughtfully, eyes narrowing once more as he considered Claude.

"You can start tomorrow," the old man said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Claude hesitated. "Would it be possible to start today?"

The old man squinted at him. "Why the rush?"

"Because," Claude said with a half-hearted chuckle, "if I don't start now, I'll probably end up sleeping on the streets."

The old man blinked, clearly taken aback by the statement.

"You have no money?" he asked, the confusion clear in his voice. A literate man without money was a rare sight.

Claude nodded sheepishly.

The old man rubbed his chin, clearly trying to piece together Claude's strange situation. After a moment, his expression softened, and he leaned forward.

"Were you affected by those bandit attacks last year?" he asked quietly. "A lot of villages around here were wiped out… barely any survivors."

Claude stared at him for a moment, taken aback by the assumption, but chose not to correct him. The truth was far more complicated than that.

"Something like that," Claude replied vaguely.

The old man stood and patted Claude on the shoulder with a sigh. "Well, you're safe here, lad. Littorbourg's a good place to rebuild. No bandits here, just books and quiet."

'Well I sure hope so...' Claude muttered inwardly, he didn't want to deal with any more dangerous situations.

He just needs to work here for a few months, gain a better understanding of the world and try and get to Elysium.

Shouldn't be too difficult?

Right...?