“Are you Seige? The Librarian?” spoke a timid voice.
A boy with unruly dark hair and wide blue eyes gripped the tattered and yellowing pages of a book, his figure a blot against the pale and cloudless sky.
“First, answer me. Who are you?”
Upon closer inspection, the book the boy held had the title of Don Quixote. A rare book, but a classic of older days.
Zenith. A powerful name, a name that holds magic. His parents have put a lot of responsibility on his shoulders with such a name. Success is something that every human strives for. They strive to reach their peak, their… Zenith. Perhaps this boy is important. He is carrying a book.
“Yes. I am Siege, the Librarian. Why have you come here, young Zenith?” I ask, eyeing the book.
I would like to place it in the Vault. The Vault was something started by my mentor in his youth. He saw the decline of reading, and collected as many books as possible. The Vault is a large, well protected, and meticulously constructed library, holding all the books that are left in the world. Every book has been carefully catalogued. Except for this one, apparently.
“… I found this book. We don’t read anymore… but… I would like to learn,” the boy whispered, as if ashamed of himself for seeking knowledge.
I take a careful look at the boy. He’s not much to look at. Again, unruly dark hair, blue eyes, some freckles. Zenith’s clothing is a tattered and torn mess. Like he hasn’t had a proper set of clothes in a long time. Sighing, I let the boy in.
The boy steps inside. At first glance, the space is nothing more than a small house. But I know the secrets. I know every nook and cranny of this place like the back of my hand. In all my three hundred years of being the Librarian, I have never had someone seek knowledge. The desire to read faded before I was born, and now… there is one.
“How about I get you some fresh clothing, Zenith?” I say softly, setting a fresh cup of tea in his trembling hands.
Zenith nods, taking a tentative sip at the tea, before delving in despite the burning on his tongue from the temperature. I rummage through my things, it’s been a long time since I’ve been around a child. However, I manage to find a set of clothes that look like they’ll fit. After a few moments, Zenith is in the fresh clothes. He looks a lot better.
“Will you teach me?” he asks.
“Teach you to read? Why do you with to know?”
“Because I’ve heard that books hold so many stories. More than humans can hold in their heads. I want to read all the stories in the world.”
I actually give the boy a small smile, “An ambitious undertaking. Even I have not read all the stories in the world. I will teach you to read.”
And so, I did. Months spent teaching him the basics, such as letters, sounds, and so on. When he would leave sometimes, he would return with a curious friend. Eventually, I had a gaggle of young children… eager to learn. Zenith and his newfound friends picked up how to read, and then wanted to know how to write. A small piece of a generation craved the lost knowledge of a bygone era. They craved the pocket sized worlds that told of pirates, lectured about lost species, and spun magical tales about ancient civilizations. This is what my mentor told me would happen. Save knowledge, and it will become precious once again.
“And so they shall hear from the mouths of babes, a cry for freedom,” speaks Zenith… the first new Librarian in over three hundred years.
To think, a small boy with nothing became the first in the wave of a return to knowledge. I knew he was special.
