The Information Guild
A mansion near the Academy. I was holding an acceptance letter in my hands.
Inside the crisp envelope lay the certificate of admission, stamped with the seal of the Academy's dean.
"Wreckar. I passed the Academy exam," I said, setting the certificate down on the desk.
Wreckar, who had delivered the envelope to me, had been waiting at a distance well beyond five meters, and only reacted to my words after a delay.
"Ah—c-congratulations!"
It was an answer he managed to squeeze out only after deciphering what I had meant by it. I had merely wanted to show off my acceptance, but apparently even that had frightened him.
The congratulation was lukewarm, yet I felt rather good all the same. In truth, everyone at the examination hall had been so terrified of me that I had worried whether I could enroll like an ordinary student. Now that the acceptance letter was actually in my hands, my mind was at ease.
"The entrance ceremony is this week, and the first lessons begin the next. There is time to spare."
The envelope had also contained an enrollment guide — an introduction to the Academy, its schedule, and a special word of caution addressed to me personally. When I had read every page, I lifted my head.
"The Emperor bids me pay a visit to the palace."
The letter doubled as a message from the imperial household. It requested that I make the palace visit — postponed on account of the entrance exam — sometime this week.
"I shall go to the imperial palace after the entrance ceremony. See that it is understood so."
"Yes, Lord Demesis!"
When I laid out my schedule, Wreckar answered with crisp discipline. He was my captain of the guard, after all, so I made a point of informing him of my plans in advance.
"Then the next matter to resolve would be this."
I raised my left arm. The thick silver bracelet fastened around my wrist — the court mage had asked me to wear it before departing the kingdom. It assisted my mana control, suppressing the power that constantly streamed out of my body, but it was steadily failing, cracking beneath a strength it could no longer endure.
Perhaps because of my emotional ups and downs of late? It looked like a magic tool crafted with particular care for durability, yet fissures had already begun to spread across it.
In truth, the amount of mana I suppressed on my own far exceeded what this tool held back. A single beat of the Dragon Heart set every wisp of mana around it trembling; without my constant restraint, my mere existence would suffocate everyone nearby. Had I not always kept my breathing measured, Wreckar would never have managed to stand even five meters away.
To liken my present state: I was like the dam of a reservoir filled past its waterline, forever repairing the barrier for fear it would burst. Whenever my emotions rose and fell, or my mind wandered elsewhere, power leaked from my body. Since that leakage could harm whoever stood near, I guarded my strength above all else whenever I was among people.
I mustn't get excited.
So much had been fun on my way to the Imperial Capital. There were bandits who had acted insolently toward me, and a bandit chief who had flown into a rage. At the entrance exam, the examinee who swung a sword at me had left an impression, and I had even experienced an interview with the dean.
If it were up to me, I would fight bandits forever, sit entrance exams, and spend whole days being interviewed. That would be far more entertaining than sitting alone with nothing but books.
So this is how delightful it is to play with others.
Anyone who overheard would insist that was not "playing," but what of it? I had been alone my entire life. No Dragonian had ever approached me out of fear, and I had spent ten years bedridden. I was a monster even monsters fled from in terror — if there was any way at all to commune with others, I was simply glad of it.
The court mage did say the mana-control tool could be upgraded.
I had to repair this bracelet before it shattered. A smithy or a mage would know the way — though no ordinary blacksmith or mage could so much as lay a hand on this tool, for it had been specially crafted by the court mage of the Draikna Kingdom.
I shall have to find someone truly skilled.
With my mind made up, I called for Wreckar.
"Wreckar. We are going to the information guild. A question has come up that needs asking."
I wanted every scrap of information available on repairing and crafting the bracelet — or on any additional mana-control items I might acquire.
The information guild in the Imperial Capital shared its building with a mercenary office. Information guilds, you see, were classified as a species of mercenary company. Since they were folk who sold information for coin, setting up shop beside the mercenary office made it easy to draw in customers.
First floor of the mercenary office. This place was always bustling. The Imperial Capital was densely packed with people, and where people gathered, mercenaries and commissions abounded. Mercenaries drawn from every corner of the continent drank and bellowed over their mugs.
With all that clamor, quarrels were inevitable. Today, as ever, they carried on a heated debate over a well-worn subject.
"Honestly, them northern bastards can't think past their own noses! I'd sooner team up with orcs than side with a northerner!"
"You witless fool, what drivel is that? Southerners are just raised wrong, is all. Pitch-black bastards flailing about like savages, the lot of them."
The mercenary in flawless full armor and the one in loose clothes hauling an axe growled at each other across the room. They had apparently taken a commission to travel together all the way to the south, and the friction had begun before they had even set out.
"Look here, if I'm expected to work alongside a darkie, I'm out."
"You done talking?"
"Ptui! What wretched luck, teaming up with the likes of you?"
Northern and southern mercenaries glared at each other with venomous faces, and no one moved to stop them. The hall had split into northerners and southerners, snarling across the divide. The mood was ripe for bloodshed at any moment, yet not even the office staff intervened. The feud between north and south was no day-old grudge, and these men commanded factions of their own — anyone tangled in their brawl would be in for a world of headaches.
"Darkies never did know the worth of a life."
"Your mother whelped a southerner and ran off."
At last they had progressed to inquiring after each other's parents. The northern mercenary drew his greatsword; the southern one hefted his axe in both hands. Their factions split to either side and faced off.
Greatsword and axe were a hair's breadth from colliding — and then both heads snapped toward the entrance at once.
Rippling mana. A monstrous presence. There was no room left in their minds for anything else.
It wore a grey cloak that blotted out the sunlight, and without a word or gesture it was simply walking into the mercenary office — and every soul present collapsed to their knees. Not one of them could lift their head to look at it.
Because they were afraid.
"Are you two brothers?"
I asked, looking down at the mercenaries kneeling where they sat. A huge, brutish mercenary with pale skin and one with tanned skin sat side by side.
"Ah—y-yes, yehyehyes, yes?"
The questioned mercenaries stammered. Being addressed by me was a terrifying thing. Neither managed an answer; both simply wore dumbfounded expressions.
"You seem to get along well. Then I shall ask you just one thing."
To the two look-alike mercenaries, I put my question.
"I am looking for a reputable information guild. Is there one in this mercenary office worth recommending?"
"Th-that would be..."
Why, of all people, were they the ones being asked? It was because these two sat in the very middle of the hall. Kneeling together in the most conspicuous spot, they had caught my eye.
"The th-third floor, the, the Whispers of the Night is, is good."
They answered through chattering teeth. Answer quickly, and I would simply pass them by. The pair had gone white as though the question weighed life against death, and pooling their strength they had wrung out a single reply between them.
"The Whispers of the Night. Understood."
Satisfied with the answer, I nodded and made for the upper floors. Even as I climbed the stairs, the silence in the hall held fast.
Creak. Creak.
The wooden boards groaned, bending beneath my weight. The mercenary office was such a quiet place. And everyone seemed to get along so nicely, too.
Third floor. The Whispers of the Night.
This establishment was more spacious than the others. The information guild occupied the whole of one floor's side corridor in the D-shaped mercenary office building. I entered through the front door.
"Welcome... urk."
The clerk who had been greeting customers brightly from the counter caught sight of me, clapped a hand over her mouth, and averted her eyes. The waiting clients slid off their chairs and bowed low, and the rather leisurely space went rigid in an instant, until even breathing felt difficult.
"I have come because I have questions."
"M-me, me, mememememe, me?"
The voice of the clerk, obliged to answer, trembled without mercy. She could not have been a stutterer by nature. Out of consideration, I had called out from the entrance, as far away as I could manage — but she did not appear to be in any state to answer.
"I-I-I'll, I'll call a p-p-p-person..."
She would call someone for me. That must have been what she meant.
"Understood."
I gave her a nod in advance, at just the right moment. I had no hobby of frightening people into fainting. I did hope they would bring me someone capable of properly answering my questions.
"L-L-Lord Demesis...!"
The man she called for flung himself face-down upon the floor the instant he saw me. At a glance he was no one I recognized, and yet he already knew my name. Was that simply how information guilds operated? They must have catalogued my distinguishing features. A grey cloak and hood — I was likely the only man whose mere entrance struck dread into everyone present.
My trust in the information guild deepened on the spot. Though in the end, they feared me all the same.
"P-please, come inside. The proprietress will receive you personally."
"By proprietress, do you mean the guild master of this information guild?"
"N-no, my lord. She is the branch master of the First Branch here in the Imperial Capital."
"Understood. Lead the way."
The Whispers of the Night appeared to be a large information guild. If the capital boasted a First Branch, other branches had to exist — which meant at least a handful of offices in the Imperial Capital alone.
Following the man inward, I came upon a single room shrouded entirely in blackout drapes.
"Here we are. With your leave, I shall withdraw."
Guidance complete, the man scurried off at a rapid clip.
"I am Demesis, Second Prince of the Draikna Kingdom. I am entering."
I knocked upon the curtained door. The branch master would be within, so I gave warning before entering.
"P-please wait!"
A shrill voice popped out from inside the office. A woman — and a rather young one, by the sound of her. A quick, high timbre.
"W-we shall speak through this, L-Lord Demesis!"
The door had a vertical slit connecting the outside to the in. Through it, a thick board slid out.
"And what is this?"
As I studied the board, mana welled up from it, and letters began etching themselves across the blank surface.
A pleasure to meet you, Lord Demesis. I never dreamed you would call upon an information guild, yet here we are, meeting like this. This board is a mana message inscriber — when letters are inscribed upon it with mana, they appear upon the paired board as well.
The words upon the magic board carried their meaning. I cast a glance at the closed door.
"Did you write this?"
"Yes...!"
A cautious voice drifted out from the room — and then, more mana-carved letters appeared upon the board.
As I cannot hold a proper conversation while looking upon you, Lord Demesis, I have devised a countermeasure. I shall answer from within this room by way of the magic board.
"Why, though? Am I so frightening?"
Yes. Forgive my rudeness, but I do not believe I could endure looking upon you, Lord Demesis. In the interest of smooth conversation and the trade of information, I shall make special use of this tool.
Watching the letters carve themselves out so slowly upon the magic board left me with a curious sense of loss. This woman — I wanted to see her face.
I gazed quietly at the closed door.