Their journey took them south for three and a half weeks. They stopped for a few days to resupply and rest in a small fertile valley along the Wolfram River, a major river in the Five deserts region. The river was one of the very few that allowed for the cultivation of land out in the open rather than around one of the many rocky citadels of the five Deserts. The valley was like an oasis in the middle of the desert and survived as a major trade hub between the northern Slat sands, southern Black sands, the Eastern blood sands, and the Draconian kingdom along the west coast.
The Wolfram Valley republic maintained its existence and power by carefully balancing the competing interests that surrounded it on all sides, and by being too far out of the way for anyone to conquer and hold.
While Dustin took some time to secure them a barge going down river Seras explored the market with Rohan.
Most of the interesting magical stuff was within the adventurer society complex. A large multi-story mall like construct. But there were still plenty of open-air markets with lots of cool stuff.
Seras was mostly just trying to get a sense of prices so that she might better gauge how much her familiar summon would cost her. The answer so far was about a fuck-ton of money.
“Hey, is it just me, or do a lot of these people look like you?” Seras asked as she was examining a well-made knife.
Rohan made a contemplative noise. “I guess one might consider the Akemi and the Wolframites to be cousins of a sort. Tribes like my people roamed over this region for millennia. We have a name for every rock and river in this desert. Some grew tired of following the old dusty trails and settled in green places like this. But that was long ago, their tongue is not my own, neither are our stories or traditions.”
Seras frowned “And what about the Citadels?”
“Those are a newer endeavor. The unification of the Draconian tribes, and the formation of the Storm Kingdom had ripple effects that reached even into these barren lands. The demands for metal put a strain on their own natural resources, so many began to venture into the deserts looking for profit. It was a bad time.”
Seras frowned; she’d heard that story before. Stronger powers coming in to exploit weaker tribal peoples. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did it get better for your people?”
Rohan looked confused “My people? My people are as they have always been, strong and free. The bad times were for the outsiders. Many tried to come in forcefully, take what was ours, and we and the other peoples of the Deserts responded in kind. The stories say that blood flowed like water over these sands.”
“Really?” Seras asked in surprise.
Rohan looked offended “Of course. My people know these deserts like the back of our hands, we even know ways to predict the movements of the labyrinth. And living without any walls to guard us means that we are always clashing with monsters. More of our people are essence users than the outsiders who hoard power in their richest families, and we’re constantly pushing our skills day in and day out. The reason the Five Deserts are somewhat poor in adventurers is because my people are too good at killing them during our yearly migrations. We even have a few Diamond rank ancestors who travel our paths instead of exploring the wider cosmos. We could have resisted the outsiders for a hundred generations.” He explained.
Right, magic.
The way essence advancement worked meant that a tribal people who spent their whole lives fighting monsters would advance quicker, especially if they had powerful high rankers shielding them from the worst of it. Of course they would be able to repel invaders.
“So then how did the various city states of the desert form?” she asked.
Rohan frowned “While my people’s knowledge is great, it doesn’t cover everything. The outsiders had the magic to fortify their Citadels and could use the astral spaces to support their populations. So, the scattered cities survived and couldn’t be forced to capitulate. But their scattered nature and fractious relations meant they couldn’t unite against us. There was a stalemate.”
“What broke it?”
“Time, like all things. Generations passed since the first citadels and the newer generations didn’t see a point in killing poor miners and desperate traders. A deal was made granting the people of the citadels amnesty, and small radius of land they could cultivate. In return their people were barred from settling lands that weren’t theirs.”
“And everyone was just okay with that?”
“No, both sides hated it in their own ways, but some guarantees from the Adventurers society keeps both sides in check. And in the end I feel like it was all for the better. My people still get to live by our traditions, and the outsiders get to mine and work their metals in their cities. The Akemi even do a lot of trade with the cities, and our weaker members who aren’t suited for our lifestyle get to move to the cities instead. Nearly a quarter of the city people are descended from my people.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Seras smiled “Alright, enough politics, do you think this knife is worth the price?”
Rohan held out his hand and she passed it over, he examined it. “No, I’d say the merchant had overpriced this blade just because the hilt has some trash gold embellishments. A knife without the pointless glitter would work just as fine.”
Seras nodded at his advice and searched for a new knife. It was a strange experience for her, judging the craftsmanship and haggling over the price. On her world everything was mass produced, designed to break in a few years, and had their prices set in stone.
But Rohan had a deft eye and found her a knife that was as fine as a normal rank weapon could be. It even had a few enchantments to prevent rust and keep it sharp.
They continued to wander about when they came across a shop that really piqued her interest. It was a small place, with a small stock, but was made out of stone and brick with glass windows and a magic device that worked like air conditioning.
The shop was small but very nicely furnished, which is what drew her in. Within they found shelfs with books on them, but each shelf only contained one book proudly displayed in the center for everyone to see.
Rohan made an intrigued noise. “Ah, a skill book shop.” He said.
“Skill book” Seras asked.
“Yes, they’re not very common since you need a skill or racial ability to use them, but for those who can use skill books it is an invaluable skill.” He explained.
“I can use skill books.” Seras offered as she double checked her mysterious stranger racial trait.
“You can?” he sounded surprised.
“Yeah, its and outworlder thing.” She explained.
“Ah” A wizened voice said. An old woman poked out of the back room, she had skin much like Rohans, but instead of turquoise beads she decorated her hair with large vermillion feathers. And she held a long-blackened staff that she leaned on. “I do get a number of outworlders coming through. They always get an ability to use skill books, and they often find their way to me.” She said with a kind elderly smile.
Despite her looks Seras got a tingling feeling up her spine. The woman was old, but had a sense of agelessness to her, like her skin age really didn’t match her actual age. And despite looking very venerable her back was unhunched, her skin clear and unwrinkled, and her hands unbent by maladies like arthritis. And her face had an ethereal sense of polish to it.
Rohan put a hand to his chest. “Greetings Matron” he said respectfully.
The woman smiled “Greetings son of the Akemi, I see your people are ever big on respect and deference to your elders, even to women not of your people.”
Rohan remained silent.
Seras cocked her head to the side. “You’re a silver ranker, aren’t you?”
The women turned to Seras. “You haven’t been here very long then if you’re not afraid of offending me. Then again Outworlders are always somewhat contentious to the tyranny of rank. Yes child, I am a silver ranker.”
“Neat” Seras chirped, which got her an elbow to the side from Rohan.
The women’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “All is fine Son of the Akemi; I forgive any improprieties. Dealing with Outworlders is always an interesting experience.” She turned back to Seras “So child, are you looking to purchase your first skill book?”
“I was, or at the very least I’d like to get a sense of their price.” Seras answered.
“Hm, well you're in luck. This old Matron happens to be fond of the tales outworlders tell. It gives me a glimpse into the wider cosmos. If you trade me a story of your world, then I’ll trade you one of my books, on the house.”
Seras felt her pulse quicken. She got a glimpse of just the iron ranked books, and the price for the cheapest of those was in the tens of bronze range. Making it several hundred iron, or several thousand lesser ranked spirit coins. Which was a lot.
“What would you like to know?” She asked tentatively.
The Matron leaned on her staff. “Tell something you consider foundational, to your world. A story that shapes everyday life.”
Well that didn’t narrow things down. That could be anything from the industrial revolution to the corpo-wars. She could tell the woman her own legend, the rise of Blackiron, but that seemed a bit presumptuous. There were just too many stories and legends on Ruin that changed the world.
A thought came to her. “How about how my world got its name?”
“And what is your world called?” she asked leaning in close.
“Ruin.”
The lady's face went blank, before she let a cackling laugh. “Yes, that’ll do, that’ll do just fine.”
Even Rohan looked curious. Had she not told this story? No she hadn’t.
Seras took in a calming breath. She wasn’t the best story teller, but this is one everyone knew. “Once upon a time the world was green and verdant place, with glittering oceans, flowing water, and crystal clear lakes. There were no rings in the sky girdling the planet, and the moon was twice the size of its current state. It was a golden age of building, art, and culture. But then the Gods went to war with one another. Both sides rose massive armies, gifted their warriors with divine weapons, and set the world ablaze with their war.”
The woman leaned in “Why did your Gods go to war?”
Seras shrugged “That’s unknown, plenty of people have their own answers, but in the end no one knows anymore. We’ve even forgotten many of their names, all that remains are their temples and artifacts.”
“What happened during this divine war?” the woman pressed.
“The oceans boiled away, the land heaved, mountains vanished, and new continent sized craters formed. People died in the millions. But the Gods promised a paradise for their followers after everything was done, after the enemy had been defeated.”
“Did they lie?” the Matron asked.
“Maybe, or maybe they intended to keep their word the whole time. There was a final battle, it blew a hole in the side of the world that stretched down to the mantel, the worlds fiery heart. In that battle all the Gods died, and we, the people of a ruined world were forced to start over on the few patches of green left.”
Seras had always thought the story was just a myth, a legend told by peoples too primitive to comprehend what had happened to them after a meteor hit, or a super volcano blew up. But now she wasn’t so sure. Here she was on a world with magic, where the gods were real, and the battles of diamond rankers could carve out whole valleys.
She was beginning to suspect the myths and legends of floating cities and great creatures roaming the land were more than just stories. That maybe at one point her world had magic. And that real Gods actually did go to war and left them with a ruined world.
The Matrons face darkened “Not the usual kind of story I get, but thought provoking all the same. Take what you will, price is no issue as long as its iron rank. I must ponder your story.” The woman said before walking away.
Seras let out a breath and reached for a book on formation magic. One of the priciest books in the shop.
Tarkon’s foundational formation, iron rank.
Would you like to convert this skill book into an appropriate form. Y/N
She selected yes and it shrank into a shard. And she smiled “Should I use this now or wait?” Seras asked Rohan.
He had a grim expression on his face, and his eyes looked concerned. He shook his head “What? No, I’ve heard they’re pretty taxing to use.” He said quickly.
“Well then, lets head back then?” she said as she put her hands behind her head and walked out of the shop.
He followed behind, but he continued to frown as he pondered on what she had said.