Sailing along the currents of the eastern sea, just miles out from the coast, I spoted him. As I looked through my scope, it seemed to me that his ship was in need of repair. If that was the case, why doesn't he come into the yard?
I sat down on the bench behind me, it over-looked the port and the western coast of Reikhord, in the eastern sea. It was in the middle of May, just 3 hours before sun rise. I had been out for my daily walk in the country side beyond Reikhord, thinking about all the events of my life in the last 20 years, and where my life was headed now. I had been living a life full of, what I thought was, purpose, but it was only now that I found my true path.
I had been a scrapper from the age of 5 until 10, a fighter from 11-16, a combatant from 17-25, on my way to becoming a warrior, but I could not carry on. After what I saw in the battle at Lightson, and when I found what I had found, I did not want to fight any longer. Now was a time for peace, now was the time to teach children, not to fight as I did, but to increase their knowledge. One book at a time, one subject at a time; the children of the next generations would become scholars.
Just under a year ago, 10 months, the army of Reikhord had been on the march, to a settlement just beyond Lightson. It was said there was a group of invaders encamped at that settlement, bringing up supplies, weaponry, and machinery for a rally against Reikhord that would be once and for all. Turned out it was a monestary, and the only thing being kept there were books. The monestary and everything and everyone in it was completely destroyed because of misinformation. That was when I decided that never again would I hold a sword, that never again would I fight in battle and that the only battles I would ever fight again were of wits. That the only weapon I would ever hold again was a book. I have become a protector of the mind, a preserver of knowledge. I am, a librarian.
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