"What to do?" I murmured with a heavy sigh, shifting in my seat. It hadn't even been ten minutes since I had started waiting, but already the silence and lack of anything to do were gnawing at my patience. Instinctively, I began bouncing my leg, in an effort to control the energy building up to do something... Anything.
[IF THE HOST SEEKS ENTERTAINMENT, WHY NOT READ THE MAGAZINES FROM THOSE STANDS?] HYM suggested, cutting through my restlessness.
"I did think of it… but…" I glanced around the room and rubbed my neck. "Guess it's my best option." After all, I'd be here for a while, and anything was better than sitting around in silence, fighting my own impatience. With a small sigh, I rose from the bench, wandered over to the magazine stand, and selected one with bright red borders. Taking it back to my seat, I settled into a comfortable position and examined the cover.
The magazine's title, "SHEIK FASTE -MAGAZINE-," was splashed across the top in big, bold letters, standing out against the sleek, coated cover. When I brushed my fingers over it, I could tell immediately: this coating was something from my world, no doubt about it. The texture felt distinctly like the glossed pages of magazines back home, a sensation I hadn't come across since I'd arrived here.
There was no mistaking it: this kind of glossy coating hadn't existed before my summoning. Not in the books I'd come across or the papers at the church. And now, seeing these magazines lined up with the same coating… this was definitely something new.
"Oh! Are you new here?" an elderly man's voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up to see him smiling at me from the seat next to the one beside mine. He appeared to be in his early 50s, sporting a pair of circular gold-rimmed glasses and a striped suit, complete with a derby hat. By the look of it, he was just as worn down by the wait and seemed eager to strike up a conversation. Maybe he'd been sitting here for a while too and had already exhausted all his entertainment options.
"Yes, sir! I'm from Eldendier. Just arrived today to get registered," I replied, trying to keep my tone polite and conversational.
"Ho ho! I know that village well—such a beautiful place," he said, his smile widening. He nodded toward the magazine in my hands. "And I see you're holding one of those fancy coated magazines."
"Yeah…" I said, looking down at it again. "I've never seen anything like this before. It's smooth to the touch, and turning the pages is much easier than any paper I've come across until now. What exactly… is this?" I feigned ignorance, hoping he'd share a bit more about it.
"Ha ha! Don't worry, I was twice as dumbfounded as you when I first laid eyes on one," he chuckled. "Back in the day... I mean, till a few months ago, these magazines were made with rough, thin paper that'd barely last a few reads. It was read-once-and-discard. But these are different! Easier to archive, too." He smirked, as if pleased to share in my bewilderment.
I looked at him, urging him to continue. "…Ah! I almost forgot," he said, leaning closer. "This glossy coating? Brought to us by the summoned heroes."
I chuckled inwardly, more amused than surprised. So, I was right. I'd suspected as much, but hearing it from someone else confirmed my hunch. My ability to connect the dots was far from rusty. Someone from my world was bringing back inventions, slowly revolutionizing this world piece by piece. But who exactly was behind it? And, more importantly, why? What would they bring over next—modern weaponry or technological advancements? It is still a bit far-fetched, I guess.
As I pondered this, I was abruptly jolted from my thoughts by a loud crash. I looked back just in time to see a man, who looked to be in his early 40s, tumbling down the elegant staircase in the Guild hall. He wore the same turquoise uniform as the other staff members, marking him as a Guild employee. As he picked himself up, dusting off his clothes with a sheepish smile, every other worker nearby rushed to help him to his feet.
Then, a stern voice boomed from the upper floor, cutting through the commotion.
"Guild Master Von Bogh Russom! There will be no more excuses! At my next arrival, I must have what I asked for, no matter the cost. I am not asking you anymore… I am telling you." The speaker was young but carried a weight of authority that was hard to ignore. From his tone, this wasn't a request; it was an order. Just as he had said.
I turned to the elderly man beside me, who let out a resigned sigh. "Almost every other day now…" he muttered under his breath, then looked at me with a knowing expression. "That young man? That's Sire Timothy Wihn Kinsmann, the lord of this city. A noble—Viscount. A man we commoners can't speak against." He shook his head with a tinge of bitterness.
I watched the Viscount disappear from sight, his figure vanishing behind the busted door which was the office of the Guild master as engraved on it. Being kicked out of your own room must have been embarrassing for the Guild master… Despite that viscount's youth, the air around him had been commanding, even imposing. Guild Master Von Bogh Russom, an older man who commanded respect within the Guild, seemed no match for him. The Viscount's appearance and sternness made me wonder about the power structure here—and how long the Guild could sustain its independence if it remained under his thumb.
Just as I was about to speak, HYM piped up within my mind, [HOST, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD AVOID CROSSING PATHS WITH VISCOUNT KINSMANN.]
"Yes, I think you're right," I thought to myself, agreeing with HYM's caution. Crossing a noble with that level of arrogance would be unwise, especially one with such control over the Guild. I could only hope that my path wouldn't intersect with his anytime soon.
The old man beside me resumed his conversation, trying to steer it away from the grim topic of the Viscount. "So, Eldendier, you said? Beautiful place. But what made you decide to come here to Chafeire, of all places?"
"Oh, you know," I said, choosing my words carefully. "My sister and I wanted to seek out new opportunities. You see... My sister is quite adventurous. And since I heard the Guild here was active and thought it might be a good place to get our footing."
He nodded sagely. "Smart thinking. Opportunities are plentiful here, that's true. Though…" he paused, glancing toward the spot where the Viscount had been standing. "Some opportunities come with strings attached."
The conversation faded as my thoughts drifted. This world was so familiar and yet alien, shaped by the influences brought over by those like me, people who had once lived in the same world I came from. My curiosity lingered on the magazine in my hands, my fingers tracing the glossy coating again. Whoever was making these changes—be it for profit, power, or some other purpose—was reshaping this world at a slow, steady pace.
Before long, a staff member called my name, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stood up, thanked the old man for the chat, and followed the Guild worker up the stairs. The building's architecture was grand, the stairwell wide and sweeping. It carried the faint scent of old parchment and ink, with sunlight filtering in through high windows. As I ascended, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. What would I find here in Chafeire? What part would I play in this ever-evolving world?
At the top of the stairs, I was led down a hallway lined with portraits of past Guild Masters, each figure staring down with a serious, contemplative expression. Finally, we reached a room marked simply with the title "Documentation Board." The Guild worker gestured for me to enter.
As I stepped inside, a sense of finality washed over me. Here, I'd take my first steps toward a new life, one filled with unknown challenges, opportunities, and discoveries. Whatever lay ahead, I knew this was only the beginning.