Sairis's POV
Sairis coughed lightly as the dust from the book he had just pulled off the shelf hit the back of his throat. He pressed his hand over his nose but the damage was already done.
He stepped back from the shelf and waited, blinking against the sting in his eyes while the cloud of dust thinned and settled.
Whoever was responsible for maintaining this place had clearly decided that their responsibilities did not extend to keeping the shelves in any kind of order, or cleaning them.
He sighed and looked around the room.
The royal archives was large and should have been impressive, the kind of place that held the written memory of an entire kingdom. And in some ways it was.
The shelves were tall and packed and there was no shortage of records here. The problem was that finding anything specific was like trying to pull one particular thread from a pile of tangled wool in the dark.
