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+---
+title: Thorns Exploration
+excerpt: Heroes aren't born, they are forged in the maws of time, a creature of God, purely meant to enact His will.
+createdAt: 2024-02-14
+---
+I stepped out, boots squishing and thumping through the mud, cloak threatening to drag through it.
+
+I let out a frustrated moan. It was NOT the day to dress up all fancy but I had no choice, the old man demanded I come in full official attire to the library.
+
+I had been working for him since I was a kid, and as an apprentice at the library for almost two years now, but it had to be that day, a morning right after heavy rainfall, that he’d deem necessary for me to wear all of that.
+
+The scent of baked goods broke my train of thought, it was slowly taking command of the air.
+
+“I’m going to be late,” I muttered. Going through the meats market would've been faster and I would have taken that route if I had not been utterly convinced that wading through wet, faeces and urine laden mud would be a horrible idea.
+
+I headed left in the opposite direction, planning to go by Batla’s bakery. Definitely not hoping to see Leisa on my way though…definitely, I thought.
+
+I walked by the shop, eyes looking for something. I couldn’t find it. Dejectedly, I pressed on walking on the edges of the path where the mud was not so infuriatingly soft.
+
+A few minutes later, the library’s unique stone roof broke through the rest of the housing, second floor windows uncharacteristically open.
+
+I manoeuvred my way to the front entrance taking a breath and smoothing my clothing before stepping inside. The dank smell of shelves and books was almost overwhelming.
+
+The front desk sat a good 3 metres away at the centre of the room, bookshelves lining the walls all around only broken up by windows.
+
+Books littered the floors, the old man seemed to be cleaning up but he was nowhere in sight.
+
+“Old man Oleg!” I called as I took a few more steps into the room.
+
+“Stop bleating like a donkey and come upstairs you rascal!” The old man’s yelling from the back staircase sounded hearty. Good.
+
+I went round the desk and made my way upstairs, the dank smell got worse. Books were almost exclusively on the floor and the old man was sorting through a few next to a window. Holding up the cloak to my nose, I attempted to make my way towards him.
+
+“Stay there,” He said, raising up an arm.
+
+“These here books are old and fragile, don’t want you stepping all over 'em”.
+
+“Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown them on the ground?” I questioned.
+
+“Worry not boy, I have a system.” His claim to whatever was happening being systematic brought a chuckle out of me.
+
+“To what do I owe the pleasure sir?” I began, hoping he’d tell me that my promotion from apprenticeship is the reason for my summoning.
+
+“You like books?” He started, flipping and scanning through the books on the window sill.
+
+“Of course,” I chuckled. “It sure would have been a waste to spend most of my life around books if I hated them”
+
+He looked up at me, quizzically.
+
+“Okay then,” He looked back down to go through even more books. “Why do you like books?”.
+
+He asked this question every once in a while and I always gave the same answer, 'I find the lessons and tales of previous nations and people fascinating', or something along those lines, but today felt different, like it was a test.
+
+“Why do you like books sir?” I returned the question, praying to God that this was not a test.
+
+He looked up and stared at me for a moment before dropping the book in his hand and heading towards an untouched shelf.
+
+“Rascal, do you think yourself capable of greatness?” He obviously changed the line of questioning but he was backing me this time so I couldn’t judge his expression before giving an answer.
+
+“I kind of do if I am being honest” I said flatly. I was already doing poorly on the test or whatever, so honesty couldn’t hurt.
+
+“Good” He chuckled as he scanned the book spines on the shelf, “Very good”.
+
+“As for why I like books” He continued, “It’s because I believe people and books are a lot alike”
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely wondering where this was going.
+
+“I pick up unknown and poorly understood books for the same reason I pick kids like you off the street” He looked up at the row above to continue scanning.
+
+“You never know...” He trailed off at the sight of a book. “Aha!” He proclaimed.
+
+He spun and gleefully tossed it at me.
+
+“You never know what they hold until you give them a chance” He stood, hand on his hips and a wide smile splitting his face.
+
+When I flipped the book to its cover, I saw the title. ’Notes on the preservation of ancient knowledge’ by Doran Elkor.
+
+The official handbook for professional scribes.