Chương 7: Sunstile

As Ryland kept moving, Viren caught up with him before long. His flabbergasted state wasn't enough to make him fall behind for too long. He was staying silent, though. Good boy. It was Ryland's turn to ask a question, after all.

"How exactly were you planning to head back to the academy, Viren?" Ryland asked.

"Once you left the dungeon?"

"I was thinking of taking the train, sir," Viren answered as he got abreast of Ryland.

"In case anyone from the academy or any of the club members was coming back, I'd have a decent chance of meeting them on the way." Ryland nodded. That was smart. For all that Viren had appeared hasty and impulsive with some of his decisions so far, he still had a good head on his shoulders.

"Excellent. We shall take the train, then."

"You don't need to go to the bank for that, sir." Viren walked a little straighter, clearly trying to project some confidence.

"I've got enough for tickets. For us both!"

"Is that right?" Ryland squinted at the town's gates. They were surprisingly open.

"First-class?"

"Uh…" Ryland chuckled.

"Come on, don't tarry."

"So you're coming to the academy too, sir?" Viren lowered his voice.

"Your Glyph of Questing was pointing to the academy, wasn't it?"

"Indeed. Thus, our destinations are aligned, Viren." The tremors Ryland had felt earlier intensified. So much so that even Viren paused as he and the land they stood on all shook.

"Is that…?" Viren's words faded as a small cloud of dust rose in the distance.

"The dungeon, yes," Ryland said.

"I believe it has finished collapsing. More or less. I wonder if the townsfolk will notice." To his slight surprise, Ryland didn't find anyone getting worked up about it or anything. There were no urgent horns or klaxons blaring in the distance, nor were the town's gates being drawn closed, not even an extra patrol or anything heading out. Hmm. Had people grown more complacent nowadays? Had Living Mana stopped being the sort of all-consuming threat it had been during his time on Vyrd? That seemed unlikely.

While Ryland hadn't been on Vyrd specifically for a long while, he hadn't stayed put in one corner of the Realms. He had kept moving, continued travelling, and had seen and learned a great deal of things. One of which was the fact that Living Mana was even more resurgent nowadays than it had been when it had first arisen. Which suggested Sunstile's reaction—or the lack of it, rather—was a one-off thing. Likely a result of local incompetence instead of a widespread cultural malaise.

Or Ryland was judging too quickly and too harshly when it hadn't even been that long. But the security was strange. Ryland and Viren weren't stopped, and the gates remained open, but his senses tingled. They were noted. Observed. Possibly surveyed by some hidden Inscriptions that judged whether they presented a threat like Living Mana. Ryland remembered to lower the inherent magic of his body so as not to trigger a terrific slew of alarms.

He noted there were a few guards keeping an eye on things from the lookout tower next to the gate. One of them was staring in the direction of the collapsed dungeon. Ah, so they had noted it. They were simply taking their time to respond. That said, he did sense the old, old Inscriptions still active around the perimeter of the town. Those were the ones set down by the ancient mages to keep Sunstile safe against everything from invasions from other Realms to, more recently, Incursions by Living Mana.

One of those old Inscriptions sent a tendril of magic that froze upon contact with Ryland's manasoul. Then it tried digging deeper. Apparently, it had found him interesting.

"Sir," Viren said quietly. He had come to a stop, frowning as magic intensified around them.

"I feel like… a lab rat." Hmm. Well, they couldn't have that. For all the inherent magic within himself that Ryland had suppressed, he allowed one Inscribed Glyph to surge back to its old form. His Glyph of Unbound. The magical tendril brushed against the Glyph and promptly recoiled. Viren blinked.

"It's… gone?"

"Indeed," Ryland said with a small smile.

"Come on." Ryland put it out of his mind as he and Viren resumed walking. That incident might send a warning or an alarm through the old security enchantments that Sunstile had smartly retained through the centuries. He wasn't too fussed about it, though. Brushing up against such things happened more often than not for him. Soon enough, they entered the town proper. He was, in a word, minorly enthralled. Hmm. That had been two words.

Regardless, Ryland found himself staring at how different the town was from what he remembered. As Ryland walked, he remembered that little promise to himself about breathing in deep. So he did. A nice, long inhale to brush up on what the air of Vyrd tasted like. So sentimentally satisfying. It wasn't just the air, of course. There was so much more of the atmosphere to take in. Ryland had only been to Sunstile very briefly in his youth, but his faint impressions of the place didn't clash with what he saw now.

The architecture hadn't changed over the centuries so much as it had evolved. People had ensured their homes and offices retained familiar shapes, and had simply upgraded the wooden walls to bricks, made the windows larger, and so on. In the same vein, the streets were wider and better paved. Every road was lined with streetlamps. And, most wondrously, there were vehicles. Actual Inscribed carriages trundled between the buildings of Sunstile.

Few and far between, sure, but their presence spoke volumes about how society had advanced in Ryland's absence. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. It wasn't just those either. He didn't recognize the fashion at all. The clothes looked so entirely foreign, he might as well have been on another Realm. Multiple times, Ryland smelled food that he couldn't even begin to identify. There was so much on offer for purchase. Books, watches, wine, weapons …

And this was all in just a border town. In a way, it was nice to see how things had advanced. And it started to make sense why there wasn't too much going on at the gates. Things had obviously… relaxed. For better or for worse? Ryland supposed he'd find out eventually. Considering they seemed to be doing fine—and that this sort of change happened across generations rather than overnight—suggested that things were far more stable now than during the war-torn times he had been here last.

"I think we took a wrong turn, sir," Viren said beside him. He sniffed the fragrant air.

"This district is too… flowery." He was right. There were far too many flower shops all around them. Ryland wasn't using his Glyph of Questing anymore, opting to rely on his rather old memories of the town. Memories that had aged poorly since it seemed whole districts had shifted purposes.

"It seems you're right," Ryland said.

"Let's try another direction."

"Sir, I thought you knew the way."

"I thought I knew the way too!"

"Well… I know the way."

"You do? Well, I didn't know you knew the way."

"Right…" Viren was giving him that odd look again, like Ryland was growing a fish out of his head or something.

"Um, should I lead the way? Mind you, I know the way to one bank. Not sure if that's the one you want or where the others are." Ryland should have expected things to have changed enough that the location of the premises he was familiar with would have shifted. Come to think of it, they might not even be in Sunstile anymore. Although, Ryland had certain suspicions about what had actually happened to his old account.

"Your bank should be fine, Viren. Please lead the way." Viren took to the task with gusto, winding through streets and people, past stalls and carriages, shimmying through thin alleys, like he was a living Glyph of Questing himself. Or, as was more probable, like he was born and bred here. Ryland would need to ask about the boy's history at some point. They passed by the town wall again. This time, Ryland appreciated how well they were maintaining their defences.

For all that it appeared their alertness had reduced over time, at least they hadn't dismantled their firepower entirely. Every corner of the wall was mounted with Inscribed artillery, each manned by trained Battlemages. Warden Mage patrols swung along the walls, hands on their weapons with Glyphs glowing on select pieces of armour.

Sure, there might have been fewer patrols than expected and Ryland only spotted a handful of Artillery Mages rather than a whole cadre of senior and younger mages that he normally would have expected. But still. At least they had merely downsized their defences rather than discarding them entirely. Of all the changes Ryland was witnessing on his return to Vyrd, this at least was familiar. This preparedness, this careful security and guardedness. He was reminded of the weapons he had seen for easy purchase.

Even after all these centuries, even after so long, the threat presented by Living Mana wasn't something Vyrdians could ignore. They had grown used to it, had evolved to live life fully despite its existence, but they couldn't just throw away their time-honoured preparations. That was one of the reasons Ryland was taking a more mundane journey through the area and onto Arcoryx city.

Harried and harassed by Living Mana and other Calamities, settlements on Vyrd had developed a wide variety of defences and alarms against any sort of magical intrusions across the ages. Suddenly tearing apart reality to appear in the centre of the town would send magical sirens blaring up and down the countryside while seeking immediate assistance from all surrounding settlements. Maybe they'd even send a warning to the capital that there was some sort of anomalous magical breach just in case.

Really, Ryland just wanted to avoid any such headaches. It wasn't that he'd be impeded by the obstacles. Not for long, at least. But they would certainly pose a headache that he'd much rather avoid for now. Arcoryx Academy was going to prove challenging enough on its own, so why make things harder for himself already? He shook his head. Living Mana—just another Calamity leaving her mark across time immemorial. Speaking of Calamities—Ryland glanced up at the statue they passed by in the middle of the town square.

It depicted the Reviled Dirge, a monstrous being towering over the landscape, surrounded by the strongest army Vyrd had been able to summon at the time. Ryland tutted.

"She hadn't looked like that." Viren glanced to make sense of what Ryland was talking about. They hadn't stopped walking, so the statue of the Calamity was growing smaller as they left it behind.

"What?"

"The Calamity statue. The one for the Dirge. They have misrepresented her."

"Sir, may I repeat myself?"

"Of course."" What?" Ryland considered how best to answer.

"You remember seeing the Dirge's depiction as this sky-tall tree with branches spreading everywhere and bearing evil fruit, yes? Well, she didn't look like that."" She?" Viren looked like he was trying to say more but wasn't sure how to express himself.

"Sir, that was a Calamity."

"Oh yes, I'm aware. I'm merely stating that the version that you seem to be familiar with is rather sanitized." When Viren continued to look at him askance, Ryland clarified.

"Instead of a very tall tree, imagine more a mountain that pierced the heavens. Replace branches with cracks spanning the sky around the entire globe. You start to get the picture, yes?" Viren slowly nodded, swallowing a lump.

"Sir, can we go back to a point in time where you didn't reveal horrifying information so casually?"

"Hmm. I don't think so. But if you'd like, we could hurry on to the bank."

"Yes, please." Viren turned and rushed off. Ryland followed, steady steps keeping pace with the boy. He considered stopping to get something to eat and drink, but they'd probably have more than enough of that when they took the train.

"Do you recognize the bank, sir?" Viren asked when they arrived. Ryland shook his head.

"Sadly, no. Things have changed a great deal, clearly. The symbol, the architecture, they're all different." Nevertheless, they entered the surprisingly thick-walled building. The interior was bright and posh, as expected of a modern bank. Tiled floors were clean enough to almost act as mirrors, cushioned couches and plants filled up the empty space, while Inscribed floating trays brought refreshments to the few patrons waiting here and there. Glyph lights made it all pleasantly warm.

Viren led the way to one of the tellers. Business was slower at this time of the day, so they didn't need to wait.

"How may I help you, sirs?" the lady asked, professionally ignoring anything weird she might have noted about the duo that had come up. Ryland smiled affably at her.

"I'd like to withdraw some funds from my account, please."

"Of course, sir. Could you kindly state your name or your account number with us or—""That's the thing, ma'am. I'm not certain I have an account with you."

"You're… not certain?" Her eyes briefly fell to Viren, almost as if seeking assistance. He just shrugged back at her. Actually, he looked more like he was pleading with her not to drag him into this.

"Um, could you state your name, sir?"

"Yes." Ryland cleared his throat.

"I am Marionys Ryland." He spelled it out for her benefit. It was a minor relief to note that at least the local alphabet hadn't changed. The lady had opened up a ledger with Inscribed Glyphs, writing down his name. Then she froze. She looked back up at him, and he caught her desperately trying to hide her consternation. Hmm. That didn't bode well…

"Sir," she said in a clipped but still polite tone.

"Kindly give me a moment, please."

"Of course," Ryland said. The lady practically disappeared.

"Sir…" Viren said.

"What did you do?"

"I told her my name. I'm sure I spelled it right, too." If Viren had more to say about that, he didn't get the time. The teller reappeared before long. She had brought reinforcements.

"Good afternoon to you, sir," the older lady with enormous round glasses said. There was an almost buzzing sense of energy about her, like an excitement she was desperately keeping suppressed.

"I see you're a holder of one of the old Central Bank's legacy immortalized accounts."" Immortalized," Viren squeaked behind Ryland. A consummate professional, the older lady ignored the interruption.

"Would you kindly step into our office, sir? I'm Lancet and I shall be your agent today."

"Of course," Ryland said.

"Lead the way, please, Lancet."