The scarcity spread like mold in the corners of every academy and manor.
Without paper, blacksmiths lacked updated instructions. Engineers couldn't file patent drafts. Schools canceled lessons. The Ministry of Innovation was reduced to verbal reports and memory.
Sharath hated improvising.
He kept his mind sharp by writing—refining, drawing, iterating. Now, every page became precious. He even began writing on parchment scraps and the backs of old scrolls.
"It's not just inconvenient," Sharath told his council. "It's disruptive. We've built progress on communication. Without paper, we're blind."
Darshan frowned. "It's not a resource issue. The forest quotas remain. This is a processing bottleneck."
"Then we change the process," Sharath said, eyes hardening.
He paused.
"But I'll need... him