Vala clutched her right wrist in pain, face contorted into a grimace. She had expected record keeping to be tedious, she was prepared for the monotony, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the cramping. Vala let her small head slump to the counter as the fact that she had only finished half, sunk in, deep. At first it had been a breeze. Well if growling at a quill for growing dull at a disheartening rate, and tearing up every time she made a splotch (often), counts as a breeze. Her letters were wobbly, at best, frantic, at worst. She had tried her best, wrist aching at the memory, to stay within the lines. Though unpleasant to look at, each letter had been made with fervent, meticulous care: Vala was proud.
Vala picked up another librarian’s note, with her left hand. “The Art of Glassblowing by Rakus Varllem. Pages two and twenty seven - minor tears. Repaired with glue and used extra paper to patch. Binding loose - repaired with book glue. Extra notes: Seems like a popular book. Pages are getting worn - a copy should be made soon, maybe two.” Vala read under her breath. She picked up the book - The Art of Glassblowing by Rakus Varllem. She agreed with the librarian who had written the note, who ever he or she was, the book was definitely worn. Vala was surprised that throughout its life, the medium sized book had only sustained a few minor cuts and bruises. “You’re a trooper.” Vala whispered playfully at the book.
The simple, falcon feather quill, lay balanced upon the ink pot. Vala wanted to throw both the quill and the ink pot at the wall and lose herself in a good book. She mastered her impulse, stuffing it deep down inside, and replaced it with a forced industriousness. She picked up the quill with a trembling hand. She brought her finger down to the column of the ledger where the books’ name was written. It took her near half a chime for each word, she managed to string out The Art of Glassblowing. For the next column, for the author’s name, Vala had to stop to sharpen her quill. She took a nearby cloth, already stained black from ink, and wiped at the quill, emptying its reservoir and making sure to clean the the tip dry. Taking the small sharpening knife in hand, Vala began cutting the tip, trying to get the nib to the perfect writing angle. On her third try, Vala cried out, a shriek of a wounded animal. She reached for a cleaner cloth, and pressed it tight against the cut, where a drop of ruby life began to well. “Ach, why am I so clumsy.” Vala chastised herself. She pressed the cloth tight against it, waiting for the cut to clot. When the pain subsided Vala pulled the cloth away to reveal a minor cut stained red and black. “I’ll have to wash this out properly...” Vala promised herself, “but after I finish this one line of record keeping.“ Vala bit her lip, trying to ignore the pain on the pad of her left ring finger; It was a minor pain, but annoying nonetheless. It took her two more tries to finally get the perfect angle cut on out on the quill. With one last simple cut perpendicular to the end, to abet ink flow, Vala dipped her quill into her ink pot and continued her work.
Ra... Vala paused to dab at a stray ink splotch...kus. She smiled; except for the ink blot she had actually managed to make the name look pretty and legible. Her smile faded when she remembered how long the other librarian’s notes were. Without pausing, except to dab at the three further ink blotches, Vala finished writing all the notes, more or less decipherable to the trained eye. When she finished, she put her quill down, conceding that with her shaking, cramped hands, she wouldn’t be able to continue properly: it was better to take longer to do a job right, than be quick and do a shoddy job and repeat it later. She made sure to tidy up the station: capping the ink pot, lining up all the books into their proper columns, and cleaning the quill.
When Vala finished, she looked around. Kirna had yet to return from her business, leaving Vala unsupervised. She took hold of “The Art of Glassblowing” by Rakus Varllem and began to flip excitedly through the pages.