Five new gold coins had added their weight to Eric’s small purse as he walked away from Master Rainhall’s estate, jangling cheerily with the rest of his money. The purse was beginning to fill up faster than he could empty it. He was a pretty simple person, so, despite having more money than the typical guard-for-hire, he’d avoided spending too much after the cost of his gear and clothing was accounted for.

Fortunately, between conversations with Johan and spending a few hours reading A History of Ahya, Eric had learned quite a bit more about the world he’d found himself in. He’d already suspected that Ahya was as well-developed a country as Earth had been in its own Dark Ages if perhaps a bit further. What he learned, however, exceeded his expectations. While learning a brief and condensed history of the planet as a whole, he’d discovered a good deal of history and lore behind the country he’d first come to, The Kingdom of Tyrman.

Long ago, just over some five-hundred years past, the nation of Gorteau had been a relatively young but still well-built country. It had been established and led by a long line of kings and queens with the Gorteau name until a large war had nearly brought the country to extinction. A combination of slack leadership and corrupt nobility allowed enemies from other nations to slip in and assassinate the king of the time.

The capital city of Milagre had been saved from the first wave of destruction by Samuel Bragg, Shigeru Tokugawa, and Tobito Tokugawa. Shigeru Tokugawa had perished at the end of the battle, only to ascend to the ranks of the gods a few days later, witnessed by the scores of attendees at his funeral.

Then the true war had come. Enemies from the northern and largest continent had taken the northern coast, marching quickly from the northeast towards the weakened capital. All would have been lost, if not for the efforts of Samuel Bragg, who had stood alone at the gate much like his old friend Shigeru had done. With a blade in one hand and the frightening power of his spells in the other, Samuel had repelled an entire army, sending the enemies fleeing in terror.

Later, the diminished army had met their downfall at the hands of loyal militias of the countryside, led into battle by Grimr Longfang, the God of Nature, and his druids. It was said that even today, the trees of the Dagorra forest thrived on the buried corpses of the fallen army. The cost had been heavy, but Gorteau had achieved a tenuous peace for the moment. The last remaining Gorteau, a young boy named Henry, was placed under the tutelage and instruction of Samuel Bragg and Tobito Tokugawa.

Unfortunately, the young king had an illness that even Samuel Bragg could not cure and perished shortly after the war’s end. The country began to decline again, led by temporary kings and queens who always seemed to meet untimely ends, either by assassination or mysterious illness. It seemed that Milagre, and the country it led, was doomed to collapse, to be picked apart by the other nations surrounding it.

Peace finally came with the arrival of a new god. Bora Bora Ciayol, unknown up until his ascension, leveraged his divine might and the strength and charisma of his family to the nation’s aid. Forming an elite force of half-dragon warriors known as the Maravino, the Ciayol family reinforced the wavering defense of what remained of the Gorteauan Army and repelled the last of the invaders in its borders.

By popular demand, Bora Bora’s eldest daughter Pina assumed the throne, and lived out the rest of her life as a strong queen, keeping the Kingdom safe and rebuilding the army into what it was today, unmatched by any other nation, save perhaps Attos to the far west. Her life ended in ascension like her father, as she rose to divinity as the ruler of the seas.

Through many different Ciayols occupying the throne, the country, now named Tyrman as was Pina’s wish thrived and lived on. Not much else was mentioned in the chapter of Tyrman’s history, as nothing else of note had happened to the country in the past hundred years. The war Eric heard about was too recent to have been recorded, though he suspected he could find details in other books, or perhaps just by asking locals in Milagre.

Strange, Eric thought to himself as he steered himself off the main road towards the tavern Johan had shown him last trip. For such a large country, they seemed to have very few enemies. Also, the book didn’t mention what had become of the northern nation that had attacked Tyrman. Was it still there, merely keeping its own peace, avoiding further conflict with the nation that had defeated it? Or could its ruler be plotting further war, even now? He knew from personal experience that a grudge could last a long time. Maybe even over multiple generations.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Changing his mind at the last minute, Eric walked past the open door of the tavern, aiming his steps instead for the area of the city that housed the headquarter buildings of large guilds. He had a vague idea of where the Mage Guild’s headquarters would be located. Perhaps they would have a library there, or someone who could explain the gaps in the book that Enri had noticed. He was certain that the information wouldn’t be free, but that was nothing to him, with a bag of coins that he didn’t really need at the moment.

The Mage’s Guild headquarters resembled a palace, as large as the one that housed the royals and nobles of Milagre. Massive courtyards and smoothly trimmed lawns dominated the open space, with large flat stones laid down and forming paths over the complex. Three buildings, made of white marble and dark stone, lay side by side at the back of the property, looming over all other structures in the area. They looked like three castles, with the middle being just a bit bigger.

Guards in official uniforms were everywhere Eric looked. Brandishing spears, swords, and even axes, their gear glittered faintly in the late evening sun as if powerful enchantments were woven into the cloth. They wore much less metal than Eric had been expecting, and rather than the bulky, broad build of a typical soldier, each man was much thinner. Still very strong in appearance and moving with casual grace, but definitely leaner than their non-magical counterparts.

Eric tried his best to look like he belonged, feeling extraordinarily out of place in his normal, unenchanted leather armor. Each guard that he came close to on his path towards the main building offered him a silent but friendly nod, and he returned the gesture, wondering to himself just how much their uniforms had cost them. Maybe magic was less about robes, floppy wizard hats, and wands like he knew from his own world’s fantasies. After all, Samuel was known as an epic mage, and he used a sword.

It was only as he pushed open one of the massive double doors to enter the main building and it refused to budge that he returned to reality. Trying again with a little more force, he frowned. It was clearly locked. Why were there guards around the compound if it was closed for the night?

“Can I help you find someone or something?” One of the guards, a woman with long blonde hair tied in a braid, had approached him. She spoke friendly enough. “The main building is locked for the night. The annexes are open, but only to Guild Members or those with appointments. Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” Eric replied, sure that it was better to be honest. “I just hoped there would be a library here or someone who can tell me a little history of the country.”

“I see,” the woman replied, rubbing her chin as she thought over his words. “Well, this property is only concerned with the business of the Mage’s Guild, and all activities it oversees. It has no library beyond the Guildmaster’s private collection.”

“Ah,” Eric said slowly. “My apologies, I misunderstood.”

“No worries,” she said, smiling brightly. “You don’t look nefarious. Please, feel free to visit during the day. You might find something to interest you.”

“Thanks,” Eric said. “Well, I’ll be on my way, then.”

He was about thirty feet away when another question occurred to him. Turning back, he called to the woman. “How does one get a job as a guard here? Do you go through the Guard’s Guild or Black Hand?”

She shook her head. “Nay. We’re all students or former students of the College in Milagre, trained specifically for this role. It’s not the sort of thing you can just apply for. You need at least a year of training.”

“I see,” Eric waved his thanks, and continued on his way, shoulders slumping as he gave a sigh of regret. It had seemed a promising job, but he really didn’t feel like taking on the training for it. Not yet, at least, he told himself. This was a brand-new world. He wanted to explore and experience as much of it as possible, not waste a year of his life in college. He’d had enough of that on Earth.

And so he meandered down the small side road back to the main thoroughfare, trying to decide how he’d keep himself busy until the morning. Without Lady Rainhall on this trip, it would be much shorter. Master Rainhall would spend one comfortable night in his Sheran home, then they would return to the Capital at dawn. Which meant that Eric had about eight hours to find some food, and get some sleep. Maybe he’d take a week or two off in the future to come and explore the city properly, he thought.

He quickly found his way to the inn that he’d slept at on the last trip, and was lucky to find that the innkeeper had one room open. He paid three silvers for the night and hauled his tired body up the stairs and into his room. He unclipped and dumped his gear on the floor, flopping down onto his bed with an exhausted sigh. He may have finished the sound, but he couldn’t be too sure. Sleep claimed him fast.