The cozy and warmly lit bookstore presented itself to Azzel, outlining the numerous shelves lined with books on magic, history, and legendary individuals.
The scent of aged paper filled the air. It felt quiet and revitalizing, providing the privacy and peace a reader needs.
Behind the counter was an old man wearing large glasses, his slithery eyes scanning the small book held by his rugged hands. He glanced at Azzel, briefly nodding before returning to his solitary.
Azzel noticed a similar badge on his cloak, though slightly larger and hexagonal surrounded by tiny countless eyes at the edge. The center was engraved with a star pattern, faintly exuding a small trace of aura.
'An enhanced of the mental path... in the adept rank?'
His eyes didn't linger for long, afraid that the bookstore owner might mistaken his intentions. He scanned the bookstore and approached each shelf, scrutinizing its contents based on the title.
Like his experience with the pamphlet, the book's characters were foreign to him and appeared awkward at first, though his mind adapted and naturally understood the meaning over time.
Alchemy & Enchantments.
Dark Shadows: A Tale of Dark Magic and Its History.
The Concord's Origins.
A Case of Secular and Religion: The Caprian Holy State.
Legends & Lore.
His fingers slid through the rough and smooth leather-bound book covers, feeling the weight of knowledge contained within each book. The alluring scent of books mingling in the air tempted him to dive deeper into the store's corners.
Amidst his search, his gaze caught on a flash of striking ginger hair falling to the shoulders of a petite young woman with warm hazel eyes fixed intently on a small shelf of books.
'Is she looking for something specific? Is she a scholar, perhaps?'
He didn't see the usual Concord badge in her cloak, though he suspected she might have concealed it well.
Azzel gave her a passing glance before moving towards the back of the store where he found a small section of books, their titles barely visible in the dim light.
Restricted Arts.
Azzel's heart pumped in anticipation, and he thought luck had finally found him. He contained his excitement, approaching the dusty bookshelf section filled with books rarely touched.
He reached into a book titled Shadows: A Guide to Dark Magic and Its History, carefully stored in the corner. The placement felt intentional as if only those who truly sought knowledge would be enticed by it, yet there remained a hint of suspicion from Azzel; the mere presence of such a book in a bookstore would have taken the Concord's attention.
However, a glaring note reached his eyes before he could lay his hands on it.
Access to Restrictive Materials requires a Valid Registration from the Ascendant Concord or a Guild Identification.
Azzel's expression turned dark and felt a pang of frustration within him. He quickly masked his disappointment and continued browsing the books that he had access to.
'It's no use to lie and convince that bookstore owner. He might see through my lies at a glance.'
He didn't dawdle for long and selected a few books to his liking.
The old shopkeeper gazed at his selection and was genuinely surprised. "You have quite a selection, young man."
Azzel shrugged. "I am seeking knowledge and these books feel right to me."
"I see."
The old shopkeeper grabbed a thick and large ledger, listing the books he had selected.
Wanderers of Power: The Chronicles of the Enhanced
The Concord's Origins
The Nature's Course: A Guide to the Mystical Path
The Triumvirate of Alton: The Dragons, The Elves, and The Humans
Legends & Lore
Fables of the Forgotten: Outcasts and Their Legacy
His black and white feather pencil stopped and glanced at him. "May I ask for the young man's name?"
"Azzel Vansant."
The old shopkeeper nodded and wrote his name on the ledger fluently.
"That will be 12 silvers and 50 copper coins."
Azzel did not attempt to haggle and handed out the amount to the shopkeeper. Abaddon went over and carried the heavy stack of books and the pair left the bookstore under the shopkeeper's inquisitive eyes.
Just as Azzel left, the young woman from before stepped up to the counter, carrying a small collection of books. She had watched him as he browsed and was somewhat puzzled by the reserved selection Azzel had purchased.
The old shopkeeper greeted her with a knowing smile, his eyes glinting.
"On the trail of the Knights of Glory again, Miss Liora? Your taste for tales of grandeur has never changed, and I doubt it ever will."
Liora smiled as she handed over a few silver and copper coins.
"You know me too well, shopkeeper. The Knights are quite the spectacle wherever they go, and writing the legacies of people like them… well, it's the stuff of a wandering scribe's dreams."
The shopkeeper nodded, his amusement barely concealed as he wrapped her books with care.
"Why so gentlemanly now?" Liora teased. "I didn't see this side of you when you spoke to that young man earlier."
The shopkeeper snorted, slipping the final book into the wrapped bundle. "That young man has a bodyguard. Besides, his aura is well... not very ordinary."
Liora noted the spark in his eye, catching the hint of intrigue that the stranger had stirred in him. "You always did have an eye for potential, didn't you?"
"I try to keep it open," he replied, folding the paper tightly. "And sometimes, a story practically walks in, waiting to be told."
He glanced up at her with a contemplative expression and continued softly, "The brightest of legends aren't always where the truest stories lie. Knights and heroes may dazzle, crafted as they are for the people, giving them tales to marvel over. But it's the quieter, unpolished lives that often hold the greater truths."
Liora tilted her head, her curiosity deepening. The shopkeeper was rarely so forthcoming.
"Are you suggesting I should be looking elsewhere?"
The shopkeeper chuckled. "I wouldn't presume to tell you where to look, my friend. But sometimes, if you're too drawn to the obvious, it's easy to miss what's right in front of you."
He handed her the wrapped books, his voice taking on a gentler tone. "May your journey be a fruitful one, Miss Liora. The paths we scribes choose often lead us to the unexpected."
She grinned over his cryptic words, finding it motivating. "Even if that is a warning, it will only make me excited."
The shopkeeper simply replied with a smile, watching her leave his now-desolate bookstore.
Azzel and Abaddon returned to the tavern at the dawn of the night. The dispiriting atmosphere laid contrast to its previous jolly tone and the patrons spending their night over either have a sad story to tell or reminisce about their youthful past.
Rudgel accompanied his patrons at the counter, speaking in turns. He stole a glance at the returning duo though the enthusiasm of the group in front of him had drawn his attention and suppressed his curiosity.
Azzel ignored their chatter and returned to his room. Abaddon guarded the door outside his master's room as usual, and the latter focused on his storage ring and brought out the purchased books from the store.
Azzel had no plans to let others know of his actions. It was better to store it inside the ring after sneaking into an alleyway than be seen carrying them around.
It remained a question of whether the bookstore's old man intended to not wrap his books after purchase, or Azzel forgot to ask.
He reached below and grabbed the one at the top, reading its title: The Triumvirate of Alton: The Dragons, The Elves, and The Humans.
'Let's see what kind of world I have been thrown into.'
He flipped to each page, finding sections dedicated to the three supreme empires:
The Drakmorr Dominion.
The Vaelorian Empire.
The Caprian Holy State.
The first section opened with the Vaelorian Empire, a realm of ancient elves steeped in heritage stretching over ten thousand years. They revered light and nature, guided by their Light Goddess, She'Has, and governed by a wise Council of Elders.
For several millennia, the Vaelorian Empire maintained a guarded neutrality, rarely involving themselves in the affairs of others unless the sanctity of their lands, their ancient laws, or the world of Alton itself was threatened.
"Ten thousand years," Azzel muttered, his brows furrowing. "No wonder they see themselves as superior. To endure that long… it's a testament to their capabilities. Just like some of the great civilizations from my past life."
The succeeding pages discussed more about the Vaelorian Empires' culture, structure, and traditions, though Azzel found it unimportant as he had not seen a trace of elves until now.
He skipped directly to the section of the Drakmorr Dominion, a dangerous land ruled by the ancient dragons and their subservient monsters. It was a vast and chaotic realm teeming with untamed monsters, embodying the principle of power through dominance.
The royal dragons regarded themselves as the guardians of Rarhir, their sacred faith, and would readily destroy anything that endangered their territories.
The Dominion stood in direct opposition to the other empires and often clashed within the edge of their shared borders.
"Another ancient civilization, but this time, it's dragons?" Azzel raised an eyebrow and was surprised. "I hope I do not run into them soon."
He flipped a few more pages and arrived at the last section, the Caprian Holy State, humanity's birthplace governed by a fusion of state and religious power.
Capria upheld the will of Dereli, the Sovereign, and considered itself his chosen nation. Countless Emperors ruled and passed, yet none could rival its current Emperor, who wielded the essence of fire, water, and ice and ruled with a mandate believed to be divinely granted.
Its counterpart, the Ecclesia of Dereli, was led by the High Priestess, the Ecclesiarch, who presided over all spiritual matters, enforcing moral codes and laws on the people. Together, the Emperor and Ecclesiarch formed an inseparable bond of faith and statecraft.
Azzel paused and read the words again, intrigued by the tight control Capria held over its people.
"Faith as law…" he thought a hint of irony in his mind. "Convenient. With everything tied to their god's will, any thought or action could be twisted into a holy mandate. That sort of loyalty is powerful… but a weapon, just as easily used."
He flipped another page and found the mention of the Inquisition force, a feared arm of the Ecclesia tasked with enforcing their holy doctrine.
"If the people fear questioning faith or state," he mused, "they'd be bound by both loyalty and fear. A way to keep people obedient… and unaware of alternatives."
As he closed the book, Azzel considered the potential of such a system. It was a way to control without question, all in the name of belief. He understood why the Holy State's structure was resilient, and perhaps, how it could be an obstacle or an opportunity.
"A neutral empire of elves, a fanatical human state, and a dragon-ruled dominion at war with the others. This world is a mess, but not lacking in potential."
Azzel set the book aside and walked toward the small window beside his bed, hoping the evening's fresh air would clear his mind.
'I wonder what my role in this world would be. A fleeting passerby lost in the sea of crowds, or one whose name and legacy will reach every corner of this world?'
Faint sounds of voices drifted upward from the street below him, catching his undivided attention.
The first voice spoke out urgently. "The city lord has imposed a curfew. Anyone who is caught wandering out at night without official reason will be captured without question!"
The second voice followed, carrying a tone as dreading as the evening.
"A friend of mine from the guild told me that an Inquisition group is on their way to Doba City! The Ashen Veil's presence might have provoked the Ecclesiarch, thinking that heresy would soon spread in the nearby Caprian lands if this is not resolved!"
Azzel could sense the underlying fear in their words, realizing that he might soon be implicated as well.
The first voice spoke with fear. "Will they... be as thorough as the rumors have said?"
"My friend said that such rumors fall short. He had once witnessed the cleansing of an entire village, and it was a sight he could not stomach for a long time. We can only hope they don't find anything in the city proper. The Ashen Veil might be crazy, but the Inquisition does not fall behind either. They are that relentless."
Azzel felt the air stifle around him. Tensions in the city were growing and it was at a rate he could not control.
"Should I leave the city now?" he thought. "No… If I run into the Inquisition on the open roads, I'll be even more exposed."
He stared out over the narrow alleys below, watching the dim glow of lanterns sway gently from overhead beams, casting shifting patterns on the cobblestones. Shadows moved in and out as people hurried by, wary of the impending curfew.
"I still have time before the Inquisition arrives," he reassured himself, gripping the windowsill. "I just hope that when the time comes, I'll be ready."