Luke hugged Celen; he’d grown fond of the man. The Reaver usually was reserved in that sort of thing, but Celen had a way of cracking the ice around his shell. He surmised the years Celen lived weren’t wasted by the monic man.
“I’ll visit once I’ve settled in Sylen. You’ll be staying around for a while, right?” Luke asked.
“Leaving with the tide so close would be a fool’s errand. Visit whenever you’re able. My wife and I would be happy to have you. Take care of yourself, son. You know where my little hovel is,” Celen joked toward the end.
“Glad to hear it, I’ll come by,” Luke said, waving as he turned away. He walked over to Hendel, who happened to be near Elnora, discussing something with a merchant. Luke didn’t catch sight of the tora anywhere. Not that he wanted to. He intensely disliked the ingrate.
Luke put his hand out to Hendel. “The bodyguard slot helped get me to Sylen in good time, plus I met Celen. He’s a good man. Good luck with your trades, Hendel.”
Hendel clasped his hands over Luke’s and gave his business smile, “Be sure to visit the Fasa House Of Commerce when it suits you. Best of luck with your application to the Defier’s guild, Aspirant Luke.” Hendel promptly returned to what sounded like business negotiations.
He must’ve figured out that much from the Intent of contribution on the sigil stone. Luke nodded internally.
Luke waited a minute as Elnora was busy chatting with other hunters who came out to meet her. She caught a break in the conversation, then began to address Luke, “We made it to Sylen.” Then she hurriedly waved her hands in exasperation in front of her body, “Not that we wouldn’t! With the main road usually being safe, the pack from earlier was already unusual to deal with. The god’s call must be making the monsters begin to lose their sense of self,” She said.
“It wasn’t so bad; I’m not used to having anyone help other than Sooty. Your support made short work of those monsters,” he looked up in thought, then back to her, “although you would’ve handled it without me.”
Elnora didn’t deny it. The she-elf put a finger to her lip, “Let me introduce you to two of my party members. Terga, Kite, this is Luke. He made the trip back to Sylen smoother.”
The tora woman out of the two spoke first, “We owe you for helping out our precious Elnora. You’ve no idea how rare a combat-competent healer is, but she’s an airhead every once in a while.”
Elnora subtly glared at her blunt tora friend.
A human man, who Luke assumed was Kite, said, “Heard you’re trying to be a Defier from Elnora—best of luck to you. If you need a listening ear, ask around for the Blue Tigers, our hunter team. It’s the least we could do.”
Luke’s stance widened, with shoulders laid back, “You three are hunters, right? Anything I need to know about joining the guild? And don’t mention it with Elnora. She helped me more than the other way around.”
The three members of the Blue Tigers looked at each other, and then Elnora spoke, “I don’t mean to be rude, Luke. But they’ll likely not be pleased with you.”
“Oh?” Luke’s eyebrows raised. Sooty tilted her head to match with Luke, subconsciously doing the same.
Elnora kept quiet. She seemed unwilling to give bad news. Terga, the tora woman, took over, “Those stuck-up Defiers are picky, but for good reason. They’ll never accept someone below the first tier.”
“That puts me in a hard spot. My intent stated on the sigil is to join them,” Luke said.
Terga shrugged, “Heard they have a few requirements for stubborn farworlders, but I’ve no clue about the process. Best to expect nothing.”
Luke tried to be unfazed by the revelation. He’d already escaped the tomb and was in the best location within a reasonable distance to find his Dad. If the Defiers refused to have him, it was no skin off his back.
He could only try.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” he looked to Elnora, “I must be interrupting your reunion with your friends. Let’s meet again, Elnora.” Luke excused himself and left.
The Reaver strolled down the nearby main cobblestone street toward Sylen’s center. The great silver-black tower cast its shadow over him. His stomach rumbled. Luke looked forward and kept moving but spoke casually to Sooty.
“I’m hungry,” Luke scanned the road and saw a food stall, “want something to eat, Sooty?”
Caw. Coo.
That surprised Luke, “You sure?” he said.
Sooty released a neutral click sound.
“Suit yourself,” Luke said as he stopped in front of the food stall. Plenty of ham-filled buns were on display. Different portions had additional fillings. He pointed to a bread roll with a few vegetables and ham dressed in oil. “I’ll take one of those buns, please. What’s the cost?”
The black-haired middle-aged man behind the stall took the bun and placed it in a thin wrapping, “It’ll be ten copper.”
Luke checked his Inventory; the dragon panthers on the road must’ve dropped some silver, as it had increased to thirty-seven pieces. He, however, still had no copper. “Do you have change for a silver?” He asked.
“That I do, farworlder. What brings you to Sylen? This place ain’t the most stable when the monsters begin to surge like they are now. Better to go to the interior cities.” The man took Luke’s silver piece and returned ninety copper pieces, along with the stuffed bun.
“I’m looking for someone I lost contact with when this place took all us ‘farworlders’ here.”
The merchant’s body language closed up, and he scratched the hair behind his head as he softly laughed, “The World Spirit brings farworlders in without consideration; at least, that’s what my grandfather would tell me. He was a high priest back in the day. If you need a place to start looking for someone, any of the major merchant chambers may help.” He lowered his voice, “There’s also the city gangs, but I’d advise you to stay away from them. The less you’re in that dark side of the city, the better.”
Luke tipped the man for the help, leaving twenty copper pieces on the stall, “Thanks for the conversation and food.”
As he munched on the filled roll, Luke took out Hendel’s parchment. Rather than help with an item, he’d ask for information. He strolled pacing so as to avoid running face first into any of Sylen's citizens. Shifty individuals judged him constantly, their eyes on Xera in particular.
They let him be for now, with Luke not radiating the presence of an easy target. But Luke didn’t ignore their gazes. They’d report to someone, and if he wasn’t careful, thugs may ‘greet’ him with their friends one day. Most didn’t hide they were evaluating him.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The instincts that explosively grew in the tomb sprang up within Luke. He wanted to fight, to grow, to challenge those eyes.
But he knew the laws wouldn’t accept “they looked at me wrong” as self-defense. Luke shook off the conditioning from the trial. Instead, he found a white stone building with pillars holding up the entrance. Its aesthetic was uncanny to Luke in how closely it matched old Greek architecture. The letters over the entrance weren’t in English, but Luke could understand it all them same.
It read, “Lorcan Pyrite Library.”
Luke checked the sky. The sun still had plenty of daylight left to give. Rather than find an inn to reserve a room, he decided to spend some time in the library first. He wanted information, and no better place would be so easily accessible.
A library warden stopped him as he walked up the well-cut stone steps.
“Sigil Stone,” He said.
“For what, exactly?” Luke said as he took the sigil stone out of his Inventory.
The warden noticed Luke withdraw the sigil stone out of thin air, “A farworlder, is it? Always wished I had that storage ability you farworlders take for granted. The sigil stone is to enable the two-hour quota,” the man said.
As he handed over the sigil, Luke said, “Natives don’t have the Inventory? What? Then how do you store things? Why the two-hour quota?”
The man looked amused, “You can find out all that in the library. The sigil timer is to ensure every citizen is allowed their allotted toll-free time. If you want to stay longer that day, you’ll have to hand over some coin at reception. If you can’t afford the cost, it resets the next day.”
Luke found the idea absurd. Public libraries were free on Earth before they started to close due to a lack of staffing from the vanishing. Begrudgingly, he asked, “What’s the cost after the two hours are up?”
“One silver piece an hour,” the warden said as he handed back the sigil. Luke put the sigil back in the inventory, and a two-hour counter appeared in the same spot where he had the three-day counter over his heart. The connotation unsettled him for a moment.
Stone-faced, Luke said, “Two hours only it is then.”
He passed by the warden and walked through the great pillars; two wooden doors with handles were shut. Before his hand grasped the handle, the right door opened furiously. Luke’s reflexes took over, and he took a long step backward, avoiding the door.
A young woman with a pale-brass hair color, light skin, and upper-class garments ran past him.
“Ignorant rabble and low lives, the lot of them!” The woman continued to run and disappeared into the people traffic on the road nearest to the library.
An exasperated monic man came to the door and sighed when he realized the young woman was already nowhere to be seen. He saw Luke, “Sorry for the sight, how can I help you?”
“I’m here to read and learn,” Luke said.
The monic man pointed to Sooty, “You’ll be responsible if your companion damages any books or property. Otherwise, you’re welcome to come in.”
“Ah,” Luke patted Sooty, “You’ll behave, right, Sooty? You can fly off and explore if you don’t want to come indoors. You know where I’ll be for the next two hours.”
Sooty seemed to be thinking, then stamped her nails down. She stretched her wings, then sat down on his Shadowmeld Spaulders to start her nap.
Luke gestured to his crow, “As you can see, she knows how to behave.”
The monic man held open the door for Luke, “Come in, young man, your sigil timer must be ticking, even now.”
Realizing the monic librarian was correct, Luke stopped the small talk and came in. As he passed by, he asked the monic man, “Do you have any books on farworlders, rare classes, or this city?”
“We most certainly do, tap on one of the five platforms at the reception desk. Each is enchanted to connect the Interface and guide you to what you wish to read. If you’re confused, ask Tabby, the receptionist, for help. Happy reading.” The monic man passed by and began to organize a bookshelf.
The Reaver came up to one of the aforementioned platforms, this one made of blue crystal; he tapped on a rune in the middle. An Interface window occupied his vision.
[Initializing. Mana enchanted node network temporarily connecting…]
[Success. Overlaying book availability and location within the Lorcan Pyrite Library.]
A detailed mana outline completely overtook Luke’s vision. Various lists of books, sectioned by subject matter and title, slowly scrolled. He mentally searched for books relevant to finding people, farworlders, god-beasts, rare classes, and Sylen. A few titles caught his interest. Their location within the library imprinted on the Interface.
He closed out the integration when he took his finger off the rune. Luke suppressed the urge to cycle through all the Interface log notices since he left the forest. With the limited free-reading time, he decided to handle it when he found a place to stay for the night.
The atmosphere was quiet, as expected of a library. The lighting within plentiful, air slightly warm, but dry, the ground squared out in black marble. The walls were a mix of stained glass windows, plaster and wood. The bookshelves were made of fine wood or crystal, usually alternating per shelf.
The Reaver moved to a section of shelf in the far back left side on the first floor. The library had additional floors, but judging by two stern wardens blocking the entrance, Luke guessed the way up was barred to an everyday citizen. Unfortunately, the books on god-beasts and rare classes were on the two floors above.
Instead, he picked out a book about finding people. The other subjects were important to his situation, but Luke couldn’t say they were his primary motivation. He read the title aloud: “Blood Hound Orion’s Guide To Finding Tax-Evaders.”
"…"
Luke promptly put the book back on the shelf before he sighed. He murmured, “The shit I read for you, dad.”
The Reaver took back the book, alongside two others, and found an unoccupied reading table. The chairs around it were padded; Luke sat while making sure not to slouch so he didn’t wake Sooty up from contact with the chair. He skimmed through the three books. The first one, in particular, had the author refer to himself in the third person by his title.
“The Blood Hound has developed many techniques to find tax evaders over the years. It is the Blood Hound’s hope that by reading this book, you, too, can become the best tax collector in your generation.”
Luke felt the urge to return the book. But he was nothing if not persistent. Over the course of the next two hours, he learned a few techniques. Many were obvious but easily forgotten. For now, he learned from these books, the Duchy kept a registry of all transfers, or as natives put it, “farworlders”; every records repository was in possession of several copies.
He could request to look through a copy at the price of five silver. When he learned only the six main cities in the Duchy even had a records repository, Luke realized why Argel told him to go to Sylen, the nearest city at the time. The registry would have the majority of the information redacted, but the name and the place of spawn were not among what was removed. This would allow Luke to confirm, once and for all if when his dad vanished from Earth, he transferred to this world.
Plenty of locating techniques existed, usually with classes from the Interface, that could help one find an individual. The only issue is this most required an item the individual used to own or their blood. Luke didn’t possess anything of that nature, so he could only shelve those methods he learned. Any mementos of his dad Luke kept were left behind in the decaying apartment he lived in on Earth.
A Library Warden informed him it was time to leave or pay to extend his stay. Luke went and asked for directions from Tabby, the receptionist, as to where the nearest records repository in Sylen was. According to Tabby, the city’s repository was in Sylen’s southeast section.
Luke hurried down the cobblestone roads, avoiding various carriages, foot traffic, stalls, and everything else that congested a walkway. He ducked into a street with various governmental buildings at a quick but acceptable speed. At a glance, he spotted the records repository building with a metal label at the top of its entrance.
He entered into the records repository, busybody guards stopped him like before, but once Luke stated he was here to purchase registry records for review, they let him in. After a much longer wait in line than at the assignment center in Kelser, an elf man greeted Luke. “Hello, sir. May the World Spirit light your path.”
“Your ‘World Spirit’ did a lot more than light the path. It made the whole thing. Anyway, I’m here to pay for a look at the Ducal Registry. I’m searching for another farworlder.”
The elf’s eyes widened a crack, and he put one hand over the other under his chin. “The fee will be five silver. While most information is redacted, should you be found using the registry for illegal purposes-”
“I’m looking for my father your World Spirit took from me.” Luke threw five silver on the table, “Hurry up. Had enough of the lectures from people lately.”
The elf, understandably, looked displeased but said, “Very well, sir, I will retrieve the appropriate records and transfer them to a time-limited sigil stone for your personal review. Such information is not allowed to be distributed or used for more than one individual.”
“I know,” Luke said, his patience thin after the wait and admittedly cranky from the excessive traveling lately.
The elf man returned quickly and handed the stone over, “You’ll have thirty minutes before the sigil I’ve handed you cracks into dust. Good luck with your search.” The elf sat down at the table, “Next,” He said.
Luke rushed out the building, and found a step’s corner. He shifted his body to one of its far sides, out of foot traffic, and began searching through the stone. It linked up to the Interface and let him search for an individual by thinking of their name. The Reaver didn’t hesitate.
Paul Wallace.