MidReal Story
Mysteries of the Hidden Manuscript
Scenario: Ancient islamic story
Create my version of this story
I’m not a treasure hunter.
I’m a young scholar of Islamic history.
Many people think that’s the same thing.
I found myself in an ancient library in Jerusalem, searching for a rare manuscript that could unlock the mysteries of a forgotten past.
I was following a lead from an old professor who had sworn to me that the manuscript existed.
The library was several stories tall, and the narrow corridors were lined with towering shelves of books, scrolls, and other ancient texts.
I was sure that somewhere here the answers I was looking for were hidden.
As I wandered through the labyrinthine corridors, I saw few people and the ones who passed me didn’t seem in the mood for conversation.
I was about to turn down another corridor when I heard the sound of footsteps behind me.
I turned to see the librarian following me.
“Can I help you?”
he asked in a bored tone.
I couldn’t tell if he actually wanted to help me or if he just wanted me to leave.
“I’m looking for a rare manuscript,” I answered.
“Which manuscript?”
I had a description of it from the professor, but it was vague at best.
The librarian could have been more helpful if he had wanted to be, but he just said “yes” and looked at me expectantly.
It was obvious that I would have to work to get any information out of him.
Annoyingly, this wasn’t the first time I’d had to deal with this kind of attitude, which seemed to be far too common among male academics who didn’t like being contradicted by a woman who knew as much or more than they did about their field.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile onto my face as I rummaged through my bag for the notebook with the description of the manuscript.
It was written on a piece of paper the professor had handed me before he died, but I had typed it into my computer so that it wouldn’t get lost or damaged.
The librarian watched me expectantly as I flipped through my notebook.
“It’s called Kitab al-Tajribi wal-I‘tibar,” I recited when I found it.
It’s supposed to be in Arabic.”
I expected the librarian to look surprised, but he just nodded, his eyes on my face.
“Do you know where it is?”
I asked, hoping he would be more helpful now that I knew its title.
He shook his head.
“Sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”
I closed my notebook and put it back in my bag.
“Do you know who might?”
I asked sweetly.
He sighed and rubbed his face.
“I don’t think you’re going to find that manuscript, Ms…what was your name again?”
The way he said “Ms” made me feel like he thought I’d bought it online to impress him.
And he hadn’t even listened when I’d told him my name.
“Khan,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“Amirah Khan.” It wasn’t my fault my parents had named me something so feminine.
“I’m sorry, Ms.Khan, but you’re not going to be able to find that manuscript here.” He said “Ms.Khan” like he thought my first name was actually Ms.
I tried not to let it bother me.