The pursuit of true knowledge was never an easy thing, and nothing exemplified that more than having to scale Shibusen’s stairs once again. The promise of what the library might contain for Zeratul was well worth it though, and if it provided what he needed he would walk these stairs every day. His days as a scholar made this place irresistible to him, despite the fact that it was filled with the most archaic method of storing information. The paper books and tomes were old and well preserved, but they would not last forever. Unless the humans here began transcribing them to a more permanent vessel, he would mourn the loss of so much knowledge.

The next obstacle after the stairs was the heavy reliance on written language. Although his people had continued the practice of their writing, he had little to no exposure to human languages. With some help from the librarian, Zeratul gathered an impressive stack of books, split between foreign language dictionaries, grammar guides and anything that happened to catch his eye. It was going to take some time learning and deciphering these new languages, but it wasn’t something he hadn’t done before. Once he had mastered it, he could begin delving for the real information he had come to find here.

Zeratul managed to commandeer a table near the corner of the library, pushing the chairs out of the way so he could sit comfortably on the floor. At the very least the high ceilings here made it easy for someone of his height to navigate, but the size of the tables was unfortunate. He sat in silence, hunched over one book or another, thumbing through pages carefully to avoid damaging them with his claws.