Al arrived at the Wizards Guild in no time. The building was enormous and grey, made of smooth stone. It looked like a US military fortification, but once he withdrew some spectacles, he saw the many arcane runes etched into every stone. The runes were invisible to all, without such equipment or spells. They were indeed impressive articles of magic.

He could not understand them; they bore no resemblance to the Runecraft he was familiar with. The runes he had etched into his flesh seemed like crude doodles in comparison. The magic he learned, whilst he was a hero, seemed inelegant in comparison.

Regardless of his ignorance, he could see how the mana interacted with the stone. Discerning how each sigil strengthened the building, he concluded it was enough to survive a missile strike. This place was warded up the ass. It would take a while for me to reduce this building to rubble. He thought.

Respecting the craftsmanship, Al quickly entered the dull grey archway. After a few steps, he reached a simple wooden door. The door also had rune work inlaid, giving it similar durability. Gripping the door handle, he felt a strange tingling sensation. It only lasted for a moment before the sound of a soft click. Opening the door, he entered.

The inside of the building was equally simple, not as gaudy as Al would have expected. It seemed to be the mirror image of those adventurer guilds one would have seen in anime. Before him were several rows of desks, each with a clerk seated and serving members.

The rest of the area was a wide-open space, with many chairs and tables. Each of them was full of denizens, all wearing the stylised robes of the guild. It appeared as if there was a dress code. Everybody, man and woman alike, wearing multi-coloured robes.

They all had odd sigils woven into the fabric just above the left breast. Some appeared to be red flames or plant imagery, others were black circles. Al paid little attention to this and instead moved to stand in line.

Waiting for a short time, he heard snippets of gossip from the surrounding people. He heard mentions of magical experiments, the heroic trinity and the rising conflict with the federation.

Turning to the side, he noted a wooden board with many parchments attached. He smiled. Another anime trope found in another world. Thoughts arose about the potential influence other universes have on Earth's media.

Waiting, he finally arrived at the front of the line. The clerk was a young man, around fifteen or sixteen. His face was absent hair, not a single trace of a beard that proceeded to manhood.

The eyes were a dark green, denoting concealed exhaustion. The hair was light brown and shortly trimmed above his ears. A handsome young lad who may break a fair lady's heart in the future.

Al smiled at the boy. "Good morn guild member. How may I assist you?" He queried in a soft and inviting tone, neither too high nor too low.

Returning a smile with equal effort, the two greeted each other. "I am Al, a new member and visit the guild library." His words were short and sweet.

The clerk nodded happily, understanding the intent. "Of course, and congratulations on your membership. All you need to do is sign in and I will have someone escort you." Replying with a smile, the clerk swiftly withdrew a piece of parchment and quill.

Placing it down, he directed Al to sign in the space below a list of previous signees. Inspecting the parchment, Al nodded a few times before signing his name. Al Wildcraft, a pseudonym he used frequently.

Once done, the clerk reclaimed it and directed a colleague to guide him along. The colleague was a young blonde woman, looking to be around her early teens.

She guided Al through a door on the opposite end. Once entered, a vast expanse of bookshelves greeted him, layered across five floors connected to winding stairs.

Guiding him to several pedestals, each with their own books. She gestured to one of the left pedestals, containing an open book. The others had several robed figures leafing through them.

She explained their purpose, a catalogue of the entire library's stock. After she finished, she bid her farewell with a quick bow.

Once she had left, Al sifted through the pages, attempting to locate a specific section. Many pages later, he discovered several references to the discipline of travel. What the wizards refer to as magic that can carry someone through a portal to another location.

The section was sparse, with only a few volumes catalogued on the subject. Reading, he smirked at the ease of his task. The summoning ritual is truly a marvel of magic. I can not only speak and understand their language but read it as well. He commented on the seamless ability to understand their language.

Suddenly, his face faded to a frown, and his eyes squinted. Noting a catalogued volume listed at the very bottom of the page, he read the title. "The Otherworldly nature of the Upire." He pondered the meaning behind the term otherworldly. Deciding it was worth a look, he mentally added the book's name to the list.

Once he had finished reading, he closed it and hunted every volume down. He got nearly all of them, except for one. He did not get the volume titled The Fundamentals of Travel Magic, Volume One. A snobbish wizard stole from his grasp it.

Al's state of dress apparently offended him and stole the book, likely out of spite. Not letting that phase, he took his collection of only four books to the nearest free table. In the corner, away from as many prying eyes as possible.

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Sitting comfortably, he read as much as he could, committing all to memory. With each word crossing his vision, a faint rune softly shone, just below his neckline. The sigil was an advanced enchantment of Mateshian magic, meant to expand the human mind into an orderly form.

A memory palace replaced the disorganised vault that once plagued the younger Al. With every word read, committed to the vast arrays of fabricated mental libraries stored within.

The consumption of information was complete. Al leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair, relaxing his weary mind. The rune dimmed sharply, its magical effect fading.

He sat back in the chair and turned his thoughts to other matters. One volume was the basics of this world's magic. Cliff notes version, wizardry was basically spell craft. It reminded me of the spellcasters back on Matesh.

Rumours suggested spellcasters were just clerics who prayed their magic into existence. But nothing was certain, at least when I investigated. Here, this world's magic functioned similarly. At least wizardry did. It was all about words of power, reshaping reality to the casters' will.

He wondered if these words truly had power or if it was some sort of mnemonic suggestion that shaped mana into the effect. He pondered if it was worth learning a spell or two.

Setting that aside, he tried to recall any mention of branding magic. The unique magic he had developed on Matesh. Many called him mad for trying it, but it had yielded significant results.

He had tattooed much of his body with many spells for any situation. But now they were malfunctioning. Some didn't function properly, some worked fine, while others became overloaded with mana anytime he activated them.

He would have to study each brand to determine what to do for each. But for now, he had other things to investigate.

With several books now effectively downloaded into his skull, Al rose to return them. From an outside perspective, he had only skimmed the books for a few hours, not taking in any page for too long. In truth, he had taken in every word and was now perusing them.

With the books returned to their dusty resting place, he left the library. Along the way down the staircases, he pondered the information he absorbed.

The topics of travel magic were most informative, detailing various spells to open spatial rifts. He descended the first staircase, narrowly dodging a bespectacled young man, his face glued to a book. These spatial folds seem to be limited to direct space travel. The furthest ever attempted was across an entire continent. Impressive, to say the least, but not what I am looking for. As he descended another staircase, he noticed a man and woman hidden behind one stack. Both of them held each other in their respective embraces, kissing ravenously. He paid them no mind, intent on giving them their privacy.

Reaching the final staircase, his mind wandered to the more obscure topic. The Otherworldly nature of the Upire. Now, that volume intrigued me. On the surface, it seemed like a manifesto, written by a disturbed mind. Yet, it depicted a race of immortals that arrived here from beyond this world. Reaching the last step, he landed on a solid stone. The text described them as immortal blood drinkers, similar to the Vampires I encountered on Matesh. Traversing the library hall, he reached the doorway. The Court of Night, I encountered, was not an advanced race capable of inter-dimensional travel. In fact, they were decadent nobles who ruled over a subservient populace of humans. Perhaps these Upire are an offshoot that advanced further than the court? Opening the door, Al left the guildhall.

Now on the street, he made his way towards the inn, his mind still reeling with speculation. He had not noticed the late hour; the sun had set, and darkness crept over the now-lit city.

The author detailed the historical account of the Upire's Empire. They once ruled over most of this continent and were the dominant race for a millennium. Swiftly navigating around some streetwalkers, he turned a corner and down an alleyway. Regardless of this new piece of information, Ikarus was still the priority. Yet, I cannot ignore the symmetry. Perhaps fate is guiding me. The volume identified former sites of the Upire and one is in the northern region of the disputed lands. Smiling casually, Al continued down the alleyway, without a care in the world.

Travelling on drab and wet stone, the wind picked up beside him. Fluttering his cloak, it crested his face like a lover's caress. In the deep silence, one could hear a whisper. "You are being followed."

Al raised his alert, the urge to reply stuck in his throat. Standing stationary, he listened carefully, only hearing the drops of water and the faint pattering of footsteps in the far distance.

Stock still, he kept his senses trained on the outside world. The silence was the only thing that greeted him, the silence far too artificial to be normal. It was as if the entire insect and animal population had vanished.

This select area had become devoid of sound, or perhaps devoid of life, except his own. Suddenly, he sensed something spurning him, a faint clanking sound above. Moving his gaze to a left-side roof, he noticed a shadow moving in the distance.