Within the southern lands, near a vast lake and countless trees, lay a small, humble city known as Lorath. The sun was warm, brushing the people with warm light, giving a golden hue to the wooden and rock made houses.
The center of the city was filled with people of different origins-some bore financial struggle, thus wore tattered or dirtied clothings. Some were hopeful merchants, shouting with great intent in pursuit of greater finance. Others could be considered ordinary folk with ordinary riches, buying wares and fancy food from time to time with little to no care.
The times were peaceful, eroded by chatter and harmonious laughs. Children played harmless pranks, chasing birds, and threw flat rocks onto the calm lake to see who could skip them the furthest. Some even played with machines, making small clocks ring and jolt restlessly, while some others fidgeted with a small radio box. It was the definition of peace itself, a place entirely devoid of war and conflict and true hardship.
Within that peace, was a young man in his early twenties approaching a merchant. His black eyes carefully observed the area, taking notice of details most might've deemed meaningless. His dark-brown hair, neatly formed into a middle-part, swayed with the calm breezes of warm wind. His slightly pale skin showed signs of times spent indoors, a stranger to light almost. His slender frame covered by a linen shirt, a black trouser, and two dark brown boots, indicated a life spent mostly still.
"Pardon me, sir? But could you spare me some of your time?" He calmly asked the merchant whom was half asleep, sitting in a chair surrounded by bread and vegetables, arose from his seat, coughing twice before answering nonchalantly, "Of course, whatever do you need, sir?"
The young man in a linen shirt chuckled silently, finding the middle aged merchant amusing. He pointed at a specific type of bread and said, "could I get twelve pieces of that bread specifically?"
"Of course! Just a moment, sir." The merchant found a paper bag and counted the bread carefully before putting it in. "That'll be twelve copper."
"One copper for each bread? Don't you think that's a little boring?" The young man asked jokingly, while pouring his twelve copper coins into the merchant's large hands.
"I guess you could say that. however, I simply don't like complex numbers and whatnot." The merchant spoke, his tone firm and kind. "And, it makes it easier for the customers to count their coins."
"I do believe you're right about that, Mr. Merchant. Why surround yourself in complex chaos when you can be indulged within a relaxed order." The young man said as he turned around, waving dismissively as he walked away with bread in his hand bag.
The merchant stared at the man's back, chuckling to himself. With a warm smile, he said, "what a weird young man."
…
The young man, now at the entrance of the local library, located a little to the east from the city's main square, in between rows of stone buildings. The entrance held a slightly larger than average, side by side mahogany door that stood open at all times, held still by large rocks.
As he walked inside, there was a small corridor where he could take off his shoes and hang his coat which he did not wear due to the warm weather. In fact, he was even considering taking off his linen shirt due to the warm weather.
Going in further, he was greeted by a familiar receptionist and a large squared room with countless shelves scattered like a maze.
The receptionist took notice of the young man, her hazel eyes gazing at him with familiarity. "Good morning, Sythrik."
Sythrik smiled back at her, replying with the same warm and cheerful tone, "good morning to you too, miss Lynette." He continued with a more dismissive tone, "I would love to chat but I am in a hurry at the moment."
"As usual…" she clicked her tongue several times, eyeing Sythrik's back with a knowing gaze, "are you still looking for clues about that lost book of Ereshkigal?"