Raven was not happy. The guild had paid them for their work but once they saw only an old scroll of paper inside the jar and verified it wasn’t magic they put it aside. Why? Because no one in Terath was willing to touch the thing. The scroll hadn’t turned to dust like so many in the mine thanks to the sealed jar, but it was still too delicate for anyone here to deal with. The guild had told her someone in Dacathus could probably read it without damage but they didn’t think it held anything valuable. Not enough to pay someone to transport either the jar or someone to get the scroll out safely.

  The paracrest sat in the hall of the adventurer guild, watching some of her mates at a table with their ale. She didn’t feel like joining them. Mazen was in the recovery room. He’d gotten a small infection by the time they made it back. Nothing that their clinic there at the guild couldn’t fix, along with rest. It made her feel ashamed though, since she should have done more than heal over the wound with her magic. She had healing spells but wasn’t a [Healer]. They could have kept him from getting sick.

  One of them, a Hillsec with gleaming yellow and orange scales looked over at her from the table. “You really should join us Rav. It’s not like Mazen died or anything. You accomplished the quest and came back with loot.” His name was Ssanic. They’d dated briefly before she realized how unattractive his brashness was. He had a sail on his neck as well, two of them that evoked a memory. Her own sail heated, and she shook her head rapidly. Drinking with him might be fun but she was better than that.

  “No, thank you though.” She told him, hearing a laugh from the young human woman, Trish, who was sitting across from Ssanic. Trish was pretty new to the guild, her hair red as a flame and skin the color of a chestnut. Her dark eyes flicked to Raven for a moment, grinning.

  “Too delicate to come drink with the rest of us?” She challenged. She was even more brash than the hillsec was. A perfect match if she just left them to it.

  Raven got up, swishing her tail back as she stood. “No, but I will not let you talk me into partaking. I have work to do.” She told them, hearing more laughs as she left the main room. If those two weren’t together now she was pretty sure they’d be an item before long. She tried not to think of it, stepping outside the guild for some fresh air.

  The streets of the city were made up of well cut stones, smoothed so that the hillsec residents wouldn’t find their lower bodies chafed. The builds were a mix of stone and adobe, some rising high enough to block sand storms from the buildings around them. It was busy outside the guild with transport specialists passing buy either with carts, on foot, or slithering. A pair of male terrisians lumbered past, carrying a huge stone between them on their shoulders. We had one in the guild named Itch. He didn’t talk much or join in the drinking either but if you needed to carry something or just punch a creature to death he was the one to include.

  The air was so dry outside. Not as bad as the desert itself but it made her long for a wetter climate. Maybe it was time for her to move guilds. She’d already been considering it. To go down south to Dacathus and transfer to the guild there. Adventurers were semi free agents after all. To join one guild was to be part of all guilds you went to. But she didn’t want to abandon Mazen, and he was unlikely to leave the area.

  Thinking of her partner, Raven returned inside, heading past the rowdy bunch at their table and down to the clinic. There was Mazen, his arm properly bandaged laying in a clean bed. A bowl of water with a cloth next to it stood on a table by his side. She sat down on the stool close to the bed, reached for the cloth, and dribbled a bit of water on his face with it.

  The chelkren opened an eye, gazing up at her. “Mmm? Time to get moving?” He asked.

  She managed a small smile and shook her long head. “No, the [Healer] insists you stay in bed for a few more days to keep an eye on you, then you get fitted for an arm attachment.”

  “I heard. They say if it goes well that I can attach weapons to the stump with ease and not get hurt using it in a fight.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Here I am worried about your health and all you can think of is how you will take on the next fight.” She patted his head, dripping a few more drops of water upon his face.

  He smiled, his good hand tapping on the covers. He was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on her face. “What’s bothering you Rav?” He asked after a bit.

  She let out a sigh, her sail drooping down along her neck. “The guild doesn’t care about the jar. They say there’s no one in Terath that can deal with it so they aren’t going to bother. They just want to set up a new expedition when they have time and head back to that mine to fully explore it.”

  “And you think it is important?”

  “Maz, my gut is telling me that we shouldn’t go back there without finding out what someone went to great lengths to seal in a jar.”

  The look in his eyes told her he didn’t understand her reasoning. But then he couldn’t read. Didn’t grasp the importance of written knowledge. His being was devoted to fighting and being able to defend himself and others. “Well, if you think so Rav, what can you do about it? No one here can get it out safely.”

  “That’s why I’ve been thinking. The closest other city is Dacathus. It has a whole scholar ward devoted to study. There has to be someone there with the skills to get the scroll out without damaging it”

  “I’m going to be here a while. Dacathus is what, more than a week away by carriage?”

  “Yea. The guild won’t pay for it though.”

  “Look, if you think it is important, I have the money we earned from the quest. Was going to save it towards a new proper hand but you should have it.”

  “Maz, no. It’s not as bad as that. I have some savings from other jobs.”

  “Which you shouldn’t have to use for this either. It’s the money from this job. The jar came from that. Invest it in finding out what the scroll is all about.”

  Raven was then the one to be quiet for a few minutes as she mulled it over. There were always caravans and carriages heading south. Transporting goods, taking people. It would be easy to use the money for a round trip. She’d also need to pay whoever dealt with the jar, along with food and lodging for the trip. No wonder the guild didn’t want to pay it. For all she knew the scroll could be a goodbye letter to a loved one. It could have nothing to do with what happened in that mine and instead just be someone’s dying declaration that they didn’t want lost to time. Well, if that was the case she could probably sell it to an interested collector at the college there.

  “Ok but you better be fully recovered by the time I get back. Be ready to show me what hand attachments you go with before you can save for a new hand.”

  His beak-like face pulled where it could to smile at her. “And you be ready to tell me what that scroll says. Got it?”

  She patted his good hand before getting up from her stool. “See you when I get back.”

  “I’ll be here Rav. Don’t you worry about that.”

  —————————————

  I had thought that the warehouse was building up muscle from what I’d need to carry there. I had not been fully prepared for just how heavy stacks of books could be. How much harder they were to lug around than boxes and sacks. No wonder Marigold had needed more help. She could carry books but her size and being more reliant on all four legs to walk made it harder on her. Me though, while not strong in general, I could carry several stacks over what she could manage on a good day.

  Marigold didn’t need to keep an eye on me or direct me after the first few days either. She knew I filed things where they needed to go and I was unafraid to ask if I didn’t. I didn’t just shove a book into a random case and call it done, like the last guy with my job had. It was tempting sometimes though when the pile I carried was causing my arms to burn from the strain. It was only my pride that kept me from such a deed.

  When I brought books down to Tick, the terrisian restorationist, in the basement the piles were much less heavy. Usually only a book or two at a time. I didn’t mind visiting her either since she was a fellow [Chronicler] but her skill set ran different from the one I was building. I think back to what the skill tree dreams offered and I would imagine she picked the pile of papers and cloths or something to that effect. She could tell all about the kinds of materials used in the book, their wear and tear, and understood how to fix them or when it was time to transcribe them.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  That last one I could help with. After my latest delivery of damaged books I sat down on the bench opposite Tick and pulled out a notepad. It wasn’t a private one, but one used by the library. “Anything I can assist with today?”

  She lifted one of her unoccupied hands while two of them and her eyes stayed fixed on the book she was carefully examining. ~I have a scroll on the desk behind me that could be transcribed. The college needs the information but it is too delicate for students to paw at~

  I nodded, getting up again and moving to the desk. I didn’t touch the scroll, which was held down by small weights at each corner, and pulled out a stylus. This one used charcoal, good for notes like this, but later if I wasn’t on task for shelving again, I would be either hand coping it with ink to something more hearty or passing along these notes to a block printer. It was tasks like this that had given me another level and new skill. [Chronicler] 5 with skill [Perfect Transcription].

  ~If the library ever gets more money perhaps they will hire someone else to shelve books so you can do that full time. There is a vast backlog of old scrolls that are too brittle for the public that could use your steady hand.~

  “Thanks. I do like this better than shelving, but if it didn’t get done the whole library would be in chaos. I also do not have the delicate touch to hold these scrolls.”

  ~Not yet, but you will learn in time, or gain a skill that assists you as it does me~

  It was easy to lose track of time there in the basement. I had finished the scroll and was watching Tick with her work when I heard Marigold’s voice. “Ramjack? Are you down there?”

  I froze for a moment, thinking I was doing something wrong as Tick waved me away. ~Just give her the translation~ Her thoughts pressed on me as I started for the stairs.

  “Sorry boss,” I called, notepad still in hand, “Was finishing up a scroll. The Scholar’s Hall wanted it as soon as it could be managed for research.”

  The little civith sat there, her wide fuzzy tail slapping at the ground as she peered at me. “Well, that’s good news, but there is still another pile of book returns that just came in that need your attention.” Her face softened a little and I got the impression that the last guy was prone to vanishing at key times of day when he was needed most.

  It wasn’t too different at home either. The girl who had my room before me was a worse tenant than Bibbel. He could be surly sometimes but other than the occasional door slam he was mostly quiet. That night while I assisted making the evening meal, Thanolin remarked about how neat and tidy I was.

  “My last tenant would leave things all over the common area where they do not belong. She never helped cook and she did not clean up after herself.” He was putting on a kettle for tea as I watched over fish fillets on the pan. “She was a student too, not one of my students. Not sure what it was she studied or even if she graduated. She left last month and good riddance I say.”

  “I hope not to disappoint you sir.” I told him in all honestly. I was like that back home too. My brother and sister were much messier than I, though meal prep wasn’t something we did there. We had machines to do that for us. Before coming to this world the only times I’d ever practiced cooking was in simulations.

  A prick of sadness fell through me as I thought of my family. Were they ok? Were they worried about me? I wondered what they were doing right now.

  “Are you ok boy?” Thanolin asked me suddenly, making me realize that I had drifted off with my thoughts. I backed from the hot pan and shook my head. “Just, thinking about where I came from. Hoping my parents are doing ok.”

  The bird man tilted his head sideways a moment before reaching out a wing to touch my back. “That must be hard, coming from elsewhere. Harder than leaving the nest and striking out on your own.”

  I don’t know what I would have said next if Bibbel hadn’t stormed in, neck sail quiet ridged as he stopped in the main room. “Ugh, is there nothing edible?” He complained, waving at the air.

  I stepped back up to the pan. “There’s rice cooking, and there are jars still of that pickled vegetable you like.” I let him know as I flipped the fish. They sizzled pleasantly, filling the air once more with the mouth-watering smell.

  “That is so gross.” He muttered, pushing open a window to air the main area out for eating. Then he grabbed up one of the jars set aside for him and started pulling out some of the long, slender, root vegetables he favored. The brine stung my nose, perfuming the air with something I found as disgusting as he did my fish.

  ————————————

  Raven was an adventurer, used to travel and danger. She wasn’t used to just being a passenger in a carriage heading south. She sat on a padded bench designed to host many types of people. Room for her tail and for her head crest. With her, also headed south, was a brown-scaled lizardfolk and a minotaur. The lizardfolk man was quiet, seemingly asleep beside her with his arms folded. The minotaur though was quiet the chatterbox.

  “So then I had the kethi by the tail and the human by the neck and told them never to come back.” The minotaur laughed. Raven had only been half listening to the woman who apparently used to work at a rather rowdy tavern.

  Since the lizard wasn’t talking the adventurer decided it was her job to give the large woman an audience. “Why leave then?”

  “Oh, well, see I got a rather nasty kink in my back from lifting too many squirming people. No more working as a bouncer for me, least till it fixes itself or something. My son said I could move in with him and his wife, mind my grandcalfs and such.”

  Raven thought about the [Healers] she knew. At the guild such things were fixable but it occurred to the paracrest that for most [Healers] were expensive. They were often found in guilds where guild fees paid for them. But those not part of a guild had often overworked clinics that were more focused on diseases than symptoms of age.

  “Childcare always struck me as almost as hard as bar work.” Raven told her at last.

  “Naw. There are just two little calves to deal with, not full grown drunk adults. Easer to pick up even with my back. Sides, what little ones don’t love their grandmas?” The minotaur laughed, shaking the sides of the carriage a little.

  That was true, and it made Raven’s heart clench a little. She never knew her parents. They had been adventurers too but had never returned from a quest when she was just an egg. Her own grandmother, a dedicated seamstress, had raised her. Told her stories about her folks and their adventures.

  Her grandmother had died two years before. She had gotten sick. One of those illness that most [Healers] could do little more than keep one comfortable with. She hadn’t been an adult much herself, just starting with the guild. It’s why she’d gone all the way to Terath. To get away from the sadness of home. It had seemed like a distant spot on the map at the time. Still did as it wasn’t really home. Even the guild there wasn’t the home she wanted. She just wanted to be like the parents she had only known in story.

  If she ever did become a real [Healer] and not just a [Mage] with healing magic she would settle somewhere with a clinic though. Not even a guild one, but an actual clinic. Find a way to heal the people who got sick as grandmother had. Mazen seemed to have faith that she would become one, she just needed to earn it. But even in dreams she had not seen that path before her.

  “So, why are you going to Dacathus?” The woman asked, breaking Raven from her thoughts.

  “Oh. There is a big Scholar Ward there, or so I’ve heard. I think they can help me with a restoration project. My guild doesn’t seem to care so I’m doing it on my own time.”

  “Yea. It’s not the biggest I’ve heard of but it is the closest. If you’re a real scholarly type you might want to travel across to Varcalis. Biggest city in the world, or so I’m told. Biggest magic school at the least with libraries all over! That’s pretty far away though. Never been there myself.”

  Raven had never been that far west either, but she’d heard of it. It was the biggest city in the region out by the ocean. Huge port and controlled much of its area with its own government and not just guilds and mayors. “It does sound nice, but too far away from Terath. Dacathus should have what I need.”

  “Yes yes. Nice city Dacathus is. My son and daughter-in-law own a bakery there. Best buns in the land I tell you. Maybe once my back is better and the calves are old enough for some schooling of their own I’ll go back to tavern work. It’s fun even when not cracking a few heads together.”

  “There are enough [Teacher]s in Dacathus for children?” Raven was a bit surprised at that. She came from a small town off west and most of what she learned was from her grandmother. There were no full time [Teacher]s there and she hadn’t seen schools in Terath either, just guilds with apprentices.

  “Oh yes. Enough for a few years of schooling before apprenticeships. Teach the younens how to read, write and count mostly. If they are good at it or if the family has money they might get into The Scholar Hall instead of finding work right away.”

  She had been lucky grandmother had known how to do those things. Had taught her. She’d earned an apprenticeship with a [Mage] that way. Gotten her first levels with the magic arts before, well, before she went through hard times. She’d been angry for a few years. Blaming her parents for dying and leaving her with just grandmother. For never meeting them. That’s how she’d gotten into the art of body fighting. A retired adventurer named Escall had sat down with her when she’d gotten into trouble with her original mentor and helped settle her. Taught her how to control her anger through kicks and punches. She wondered how normal kids in schools got calmed down. Surely some of them got angry too.

  As always the minotaur had kept talking while Raven pondered. “Good for me I was taught by my Ma how to read. Gave my son some help when he was young and struggling with those [Teacher] types. Turns out he was much better as a [Cook] and [Mixer]. Took to baking as soon as the dough came between his hands. Its how he met his wife.” And on the woman talked. Telling Raven about her family. It turned out to be a pleasant trip after all.

  ————

  The northern gate of Dacathus loomed before the carriages. The guards, a pair of black-feathered aulteruns, checked the paperwork of the travelers before letting them inside. The quiet lizard man had left the carriage two days before at a small town along the route. Raven had been alone with her minotaur companion, Daisy Groundpounder. She now knew more than she ever needed to know about any one minotaur. More than she knew about her guild mates, even Mazen and Ssanic.

  Once out of the carriage, Daisy stretched with an audible crack and sighed contentedly. “I shalln’t be making such a journey again I think. Too long on these old bones. Besides, with my calf and grand calves here I should just stay.” She grabbed up what looked like a heavy trunk to Raven’s eyes and peered around.

  “You keep safe adventurer you hear? And be sure to drop by the Groundpounder bakery when you have a chance. Best buns I tell you, and not just cause my son and daughter-in-law make them either.” With that the large woman walked off with her heavy load. Raven briefly worried about her already strained back but the minotaur seemed fine with her burdens.

  The paracrest had one of her own. Just a small bag, enough for a change of clothes and to keep the jar safe. She strapped it on and looked around at the bustling city with its cracked paving stones and bits of mud. No sand in sight, it was even overcast and seemed like it would rain soon. She smiled and headed off in search of lodging for the night.