It’s a cold day in the Upper City. Or maybe it just seems that way, you’re used to the warmer and more enclosed environment on the underside. But you put on a coat and took the elevator up, because you know this is the opportunity of a lifetime to get some answers.
The Historical Society actually responding to your request to access their library was a bit of a surprise. In the underside, sure, you’re a respected academic, and you have collaborations with other historians around the rest of the world. But in this city, where you’re from matters, and you haven’t ever been able to get close enough to the Upper City for its historians to even give you a disdainful side-eye.
But now, you’re meeting a Historian with a sharp jacket and the exact disdainfully raised eyebrow you were expecting. You grit your teeth and greet them. As they lead you through the reception area, their silence is stony. But it speaks volumes. At least it’s not a long walk.
When you reach the door to the library, the Historian opens the door and stands aside. Eventually, they gesture you through, into the inner sanctum of precious texts you never thought you’d get to see.
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