The limit

And as he sat there, breathing in the mustiness of the old books, scrolls and tomes around him, it came to him. This was it. He had reached his limit. He had turned thirty and there no longer was any room for change or further learning. He looked down at the paper he had been reading. The text was there and everything he had read up to this point was crystal clear. But from there on, it was a blur. He had finished, mid-sentence, but the remainder of the text was just a jumble of signs, teasing him as if he had suddenly become illiterate.

Thirty years old. So this is what it feels like.

From now on, he would have to live on the skills and knowledge he had gathered thus far. Would it be enough? He would see soon enough. Time to sleep. Tomorrow, he would enter the fighting pit only known as Thirty Plus.