We arrived outside the town hall, pausing for a moment to speak with Tommy. I thanked him for his help and made sure to give him credit for guiding us, adding that we should be able to find our way from here. Before parting, I mentioned my plan to visit the Healers’ Hall later, which was in a different part of town. Tommy’s eyes flickered with recognition, and he offered to meet me back at the inn after the lunch rush to take me there. I considered asking him more about the strange encounter in the market, but before I could speak, Tommy nodded a curt goodbye and slipped away into the crowd, leaving my questions unanswered.
We stepped through the large wooden doors of the town hall and were greeted by a grand foyer lined with tall columns and bustling with activity. A clerk, dressed in neatly pressed robes and holding a quill, looked up from his desk as we approached.
“Good morning,” I began, “we’d like to speak with the headperson. Would we need to make an appointment?”
The clerk nodded thoughtfully, glancing down at a large, leather-bound appointment book. After a moment, he looked up with a polite smile. “The headperson will be free in about thirty minutes. Would you like a brief tour of the hall while you wait?”
We exchanged quick glances before agreeing. The clerk stood and gestured for us to follow. “This way,” he said, leading us through a corridor adorned with tapestries depicting historical scenes. Another clerk seem to see the seat vacant and fill the position so that the next people coming in would be cared for.
Our first stop was a large board set into the wall, filled with papers pinned in a neat array. “This is the quest board,” the clerk explained. “Here, residents and visitors can accept or post quests. When doing so for the first time, it is advised to have someone guide you through the process.”
I examined the board closely, noting the variety of tasks—some mundane, others adventurous. There were simple tasks like delivering messages or gathering herbs, while others involved hunting dangerous creatures, exploring the nearby forest, or assisting in magical experiments. Next to it was a detailed map of the city, framed and marked with key locations.
The clerk nodded, a smile forming. "Once you update your map with the city’s layout, you can sync it to your personal map. After syncing, your personal map will allow you to plan routes, mark important areas, and manage your journey more efficiently. For example, you can verbally ask your map for directions, and it will highlight the best path. You can also add personal notes to mark areas of interest or avoid certain spots."
Curious, I pulled up my own map to confirm, and to my surprise, it updated seamlessly, reflecting the city layout with new markers and street names. I discovered that by inputting a destination, the map provided step-by-step directions, almost like a GPS, showing which streets to turn on and even offering reroutes if needed to avoid certain areas.
“This map is invaluable for newcomers,” the clerk continued. “It also allows you to locate key areas, such as skilled craftsmen, armorers, weapon smiths, and leatherworkers. Trainers for various professions can also be found throughout the city, should you wish to take up a trade.”
“What about cooking and Herbalism and Plant Lore?” I asked, my curiosity piqued, feeling a spark of excitement ripple through me.
The clerk’s eyes brightened as he gestured to a wing of the hall visible through a set of arched doorways that led to a bright green area. I found myself instinctively stepping forward, drawn to the sight of the lush garden beyond. The clerks voice brought me back. “For herbalism, there is a dedicated garden area surrounded by apothecaries,” he explained, noting my interest with a knowing smile. “As for cooking, there isn’t a single trainer but rather a circuit of them, each specializing in different cuisines—fine dining, pub food, and various ethnic specialties.”
We continued down the corridor until we reached an alcove with a polished desk and an inscription above it that read, 'Citizen Registry.' The clerk paused. "Registering as a citizen is not mandatory but offers many benefits. It grants you access to special quests, ensures your presence is known to people who might seek you, and allows you to document family connections, which can be helpful if you’re searching for someone. Additionally, it gives you access to certain public services, such as priority access to healers, and the ability to own property or start a business."
The clerk reached under the registration desk and pulled out a small handout, offering it to us. "This explains the benefits in more detail," he said. "It covers how the citizen registry can be used, like updating your personal map with registered locations, finding other citizens who have agreed to be listed, and accessing local services more easily."
I hesitated, the idea both intriguing and daunting. The clerk’s warm smile softened my uncertainty. “It’s entirely your choice, but many find comfort in knowing their loved ones can locate them if needed,” he added.
For a moment, I let myself dream. What if I could have a place of my own? A small cottage, surrounded by herbs and vegetables, where I could cook and heal. I never thought I’d consider becoming a healer, but the more I thought about it, the more it felt right. Food was always a way of healing to me, and perhaps here, I could use it to help others too. The idea of a little shop, selling food and remedies, brought a warmth to my chest—a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Would you like to proceed with the registration after your meeting?” the clerk asked.
“Yes,” I said, feeling a small, hopeful spark. “I think we would.”
Glancing down at his pocket watch, the clerk gestured for us to follow as he led the way to the headperson’s office. We walked through the corridor, the echo of our footsteps mingling with the soft murmur of nearby voices. When we arrived at a nondescript door with a simple sign reading ‘Headperson,’ devoid of any name or elaborate design, I felt a sense of quiet anticipation.
The clerk gave a measured knock, and to my surprise, the door creaked open on its own, a faint shimmer of magic rippling across the surface. I couldn’t help but marvel at the casual use of enchantment here—a reminder that this world held mysteries far beyond my understanding.
Curiosity bubbled inside me. How long had magic been part of this place? Were all the people here originally brought from somewhere else, like us, or were they descendants of those who first arrived? Al’s words echoed in my mind: there were no NPCs; everyone was real, each person an active part of this intricate world. The thought was both fascinating and unsettling.
I glanced at Alex and Sam, their faces a mix of curiosity and wariness as they took in the details. I could tell they, too, were absorbing this moment, feeling the weight of our shared questions.
The realization hit me—despite the strangeness, I didn’t miss home. Not the life I left behind, anyway. Except for my kitchen, the one place that had truly felt like mine. Memories of my aunt Tammy surfaced, her kind smile as she played with Ana. We had never been close, but she had loved Ana, and the sadness of knowing she wouldn’t see Ana grow up tugged at my heart.
“Please, come in,” a voice called from within, breaking me from my thoughts. With a nod, the clerk stepped aside, and we entered the headperson’s office, ready to take the next step into this new chapter of our journey.
This wasn’t my quest but Alex and Sam's, so I stayed near the back with Ana, letting them take the lead. The headperson, a man with a composed yet inviting demeanor, welcomed us and introduced himself as Gilbert. His voice was steady and warm, though I noticed he didn’t use a last name. The realization struck me—no one here had mentioned last names, not Harold, not Miriam, nor anyone else I’d met. Even in my connections list, names were simple, first-name only. Was this a custom of the town, or something deeper? I wondered if becoming a citizen might shed light on this detail.
He didn’t ask us to sit down, but there were only two chairs across from the desk, and we all decided to stay standing. Maybe we would sit if this was going to be a lengthy meeting, but I had a feeling this guy was busy and this would be as short as he could make it.
“Please, call me Gil,” he said, a small smile breaking the seriousness of his expression. His brown hair was neatly combed, and his gray eyes held a subtle wisdom. His features were kind and quietly handsome, though not striking. Behind him, I noticed a polished, dark wooden desk neatly arranged with piles of parchment, an inkpot, and various quills. Magical globes floated near the ceiling, casting a warm, even light without the flicker of a flame—a comforting, steady glow that felt otherworldly yet safe.
The room was otherwise simple, with a few sturdy wooden chairs and shelves stacked with leather-bound books and scrolls. A faint scent of aged parchment and wood polish filled the air, adding to the feeling of calm purposefulness.
He turned to Alex and Sam, noting the seriousness in their postures. “I assume you’re here for a quest?”
Alex exchanged a glance with Sam before responding, their voice steady. “Yes, we’re have a quest that brought us to you. We wanted to understand why.”
Gil nodded thoughtfully and reached for a thick ledger bound in cracked, dark leather. He flipped through the pages until he found their names, scanning the entries before marking their progress. The book looked as if it had been used for centuries, with the edges worn but lovingly preserved.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
I adjusted Ana on my hip as she pressed her hands tightly over her ears, her face buried against my shoulder, each new sound in the small room making her cringe. Though we havent said much, the low murmur of voices in the crowded office seemed to overwhelm her; I could feel her tense at each new sound, pressing her head into me for comfort.
“This quest has led you here to help you get started learning about the history and workings of this realm,” Gil explained, his voice softening as his eyes glanced sympathetically at Ana. “An orientation will be necessary before you move forward.”
Ana peeked out momentarily, curiosity overcoming her discomfort as she watched Gil’s hands move deftly over the old ledger. The magical light cast soft, shifting hues across the worn pages, and I noticed Ana’s eyes widen, captivated. She’d seen magic here before, but in this quiet moment, there was something mesmerizing about it. She tightened her grip on me, her eyes darting between Gil and the open ledger.
Gil clasped his hands on the desk, his tone growing somber. “No one knows why we were brought here. Every person in this realm arrived from somewhere else, or is a descendant of those who did. The first arrivals came fifty years ago—a group of around two hundred. Since then, every decade or so, there has been a new influx of people from different times and places.”
At this, Ana squirmed a bit, leaning closer as though straining to understand. I could feel her small fingers relax, no longer covering her ears, as she tried to make sense of Gil’s words. I gave her a gentle squeeze, letting her know she was safe and put her down so she could get closer to the desk if she wanted.
“Different times? As in different eras?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing.
“Different places? Like different countries?” Alex added, curiosity sparking in their voice.
Gil’s eyes met theirs, understanding the confusion. “Precisely. People have come not just from different times and locations on Earth, but also from entirely different planets and different eras on those planets. To date, we have documented arrivals from fifteen different worlds, each with its own unique culture and history. Specific to earth we have people from all times on Earths history from as early as 200000 BC to present” He paused, letting that sink in. “I, for example, arrived ten years ago from Earth, in 2050. It's noted here you came from 2030, which, while earlier than me, could mean you were placed in some form of stasis before arriving. We don’t know if time continues on Earth as it does here, or if we are held in suspension before being brought.”
Ana’s brows knit together as she leaned in closer, signing to me, “Mama… are we from one of those other places?”
I smiled, brushing her hair back gently. I signed back, “I don’t believe so, love, but who knows? Maybe we’ll meet people from those other places.”
She nodded solemnly, as if this answer made sense, but her gaze lingered on Gil, eyes wide with wonder. She seemed captivated by the idea that people from so many places had come here, as if trying to imagine it all at once.
“There’s a history section in the library,” Gil continued, “here in the Town Hall. It contains journals and records of those who have lived here from the day they arrived. They describe the confusion, the adaptation, the exploration of this vast world—and how even now, not all of it has been discovered.”
Ana shifted, curiosity in her gaze. She signed, “Library?” looking at me with the hint of a smile. I knew she loved the few books we’d brought along, and the idea of discovering more seemed to delight her. I nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“If you’re interested,” Gil added, “the local church offers a weekly class that delves into the histories, complete with reading lists to guide your understanding. It’s a diverse place, catering to many faiths and beliefs, ensuring everyone feels welcome and represented. We have members who follow Earth-based traditions, and others who bring beliefs from their own worlds. It’s a rotating schedule, so you can join at any point and complete the program at your own pace.”
“A shared space for many beliefs,” Alex said, almost to themselves. “It’s like the military, having one building that serves multiple religions.”
I glanced at them, surprised by the comment. I hadn’t known Alex had served. It dawned on me that I knew so little about their past—or Sam’s, for that matter. We had avoided sharing stories of our old lives, perhaps out of a mutual, unspoken agreement to focus on the now.
Ana shifted beside me, her hands briefly dropping from her ears. She watched Alex with a curious tilt of her head, clearly picking up on the same realization. When she caught my gaze, she signed softly, “So many stories,” as if this revelation had opened up a new world of questions for her, too.
Gil nodded. “Yes, the church accommodates all who wish to practice, offering time slots for practitioners as needed. There is a schedule posted if you’re interested.”
The room fell into a thoughtful silence, each of us processing the vastness of what we had just learned. Ana’s small hand reached up to cover her ear again, though I noticed her eyes still darting around, absorbing everything. This world, with its strange mix of magic and reality, was more complex than I’d imagined. And as I looked at Alex and Sam, I realized there was so much more to discover—about this place, and about each other.
Sam and Alex mentioned they had received an update to their quest, along with a reward of 5 credits each and a skill unlock labeled ‘Aetheris History.’ I glanced at my own interface and realized I had also unlocked the skill, but unlike them, I hadn’t received the quest or the credit reward. This discrepancy gnawed at me, so I turned to Gil and asked, “Why was I left out of the quest?”
Gil’s brow furrowed as he flipped through the pages of the thick ledger before him. “Let’s see,” he muttered, scanning the names. When he didn’t find mine, he paused and focused on me, as if searching for an unseen thread. Suddenly, a faint shimmer passed over my vision, and a notification appeared. The quest had registered at last.
“Ah,” Gil said, his expression clearing. “Sometimes people are brought here under a sponsorship program rather than being directly chosen. The reasons behind these sponsorships can vary greatly.” He looked at me thoughtfully before continuing. “Typically, people who are chosen share common traits—those on the brink of death, those feeling a deep sense of impending doom, or individuals who have few or no close connections, living solitary lives.”
Sam and Alex exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them. Sam took a deep breath and said, “We were both sick. It wasn’t contagious, but it was terminal. That camping trip was supposed to be our last hurrah.” Their voice softened as they glanced at Alex. “But when we arrived here, we got a notification saying we’d been cured. We didn’t mention it because, well, we weren’t sure if it was real. But we felt… amazing, better than we had in years. So we just… went with it.”
Ana looked up, catching the tail end of Sam’s admission. Her brow furrowed as she signed to me, “They were sad before. Are they happy now?”
I met her gaze, feeling the gravity of her question. I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yes, sweetheart, I think they are.”
Gil nodded, his face solemn but understanding. “That makes sense. Anyone who arrives on the brink of death is fully healed and cured before being brought here. It’s one of the few certainties we’ve come to understand.” He shifted his attention to me. “As for you, Ani, I suspect either Ana was chosen and you were brought here as her mother, or you were both sponsored. It’s not uncommon for families to be linked in these situations.”
I opened my mouth to share the quest about Mundi, but Gil raised a hand, stopping me. “No,” he said gently. “Hold on to that information for now. Only reveal it if necessary to complete your quest.”
A slight tension left my shoulders, replaced by curiosity and determination. My quest to speak to the headperson had been completed, and Gil added my name to the ledger with a flourish. “You’re now assigned the orientation quest,” he explained. “It’s a two-month process, and staying consistent is crucial. If you miss sessions, catching up can be tough, especially since each meeting builds on the last. It’s recommended to attend consistently or, if you need to travel, try to reach the next town’s orientation session so you don’t fall behind. Each meeting is vital, and going back to catch up on missed sessions can be difficult.”
“When is the next meeting?” I asked.
“Tomorrow, times will be listed with your quests” Gil replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “During these sessions, you’ll receive further quests—tasks that involve research or meeting with trainers to develop skills that interest you. Most people focus on mastering three to five major skills, though you can unlock and explore as many skills as you want. Any more than 5 though, and mastery becomes difficult. Still, unlocking new skills can spark additional interests and opportunities.”
He leaned back, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I could talk all day about this, but I have another appointment in a couple of minutes. Be sure to get the introductory guide from the clerk after signing up for citizenship.”
We exchanged nods of gratitude as he stood, signaling the end of our meeting. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of everything we’d learned settling over us like a heavy cloak. We turned to leave, knowing that this orientation would be the first step in truly understanding the mysteries of Aetheris.