Bibliomancer

by James Hunter

  Not wanting to spend a second more than strictly necessary in the Sage’s area, Sam hustled until he was jogging along the crystalline floors, working hard not to focus overlong on the various books filling the shelves. These were strange tomes that glittered with magic; he could almost hear the whisper of a ghostly voice fluttering in the air as he passed. Up ahead was the isle Octavius had told him to turn down; a wooden placard reading Advanced Displacement Mechanics had been carefully hung from a peg at the intersection. Sam’s feet faltered as he slipped by a nook, not much bigger than a broom closet, closed away with heavy steel bars.

  Truthfully, it looked like a jail cell, and behind the bars was a simple stone pedestal with a burgundy volume propped up on top. There was no title on the cover of the book, though incomprehensible, golden runes sparkled along the spine. There was, however, a humanoid face jutting up from the leather, made in patchwork-fashion from various strips of hide all crudely stitched together. The book would never win any beauty contests, that was for sure, but Sam felt a strange tingle… almost an itching sensation telling him to reach out and take the book into his hands. Hesitantly, he glanced down at the keyring in his hand.

  Sure enough, hanging there was a purple crystal key that looked to perfectly match the lock. But no. Octavius’s warning—even more so, the chuckling smirk that told him to do it—lingered over him like an anvil. Sam shoved the keys firmly into a pouch at his belt, turned his back on the strange book, and headed for the Advanced Displacement Mechanics section.

  He already had enough trouble with the Mage’s College, and he wasn’t about to jeopardize things now—the night before his first day off, no less—to go poking around some book that would probably incinerate him into fine ash the second he laid a finger on it. There was obviously a reason the book was up on the highest floor in the restricted library and then further secured behind a locked gate.

  He turned the corner and found Octavius’s book without much trouble, but on the way back out… he could’ve sworn he heard the pages of the strange book rustling as he shuffled past.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam slept like the dead, woke up early, and worked through his morning shift in the kitchen like a zombie, his mind entirely fixated on what awesome things he would do when he got out of the College. He planned on leaving the city; that was for sure. Smiting Jellies with his wind-based powers was fun, but tromping around in sewage was not. Besides, he was looking forward to seeing some of the other challenging creatures the game had to offer. He doubted he’d come face to face against the Wolfmen—considering he was only a level four—but any change of pace would be nice.

  Rabbits? Foxes? Wolves? Bring ’em on! Truthfully, all he really wanted to do was grind Mobs until his muscles felt like Jell-O and rack up as much experience as humanly possible. To do that would take a little planning.

  Sam had picked up several health and Mana potions from the College the day before—along with a leather bandolier for potion storage—even though the magical concoctions were prohibitively expensive. But since Clerics and other magic users were so rare, it was unlikely he would manage to party up with a group that had a proper healer. Sam was the frailest of glass cannons, and that meant he needed potions. Beyond that, the Mage’s College did have the best prices on potions. The only prices, actually, as they owned the means of production and chose who they would sell to, but according to Finn, the rest of their gear was wildly overpriced. Finn said he knew a place in town where Sam could get some smoking good deals without losing an arm or a leg.

  For being a Noble with loads of gold, Finn was surprisingly frugal. Which was good, because Sam needed to stock up. His Neophyte’s Robe were hardly more than serviceable, he didn’t have any sort of backup weapon—a must in case his Mana pool ever ran dry—and he needed at least a backpack if he expected to collect any loot at all.

  Unlike many of the games he’d played previously, there was no bottomless inventory to stash items; though word on the street was that could be fixed if you had enough money to throw around or had the good luck and fortune to vanquish a rare boss. Spatial storage items were apparently a thing and functioned much like the College did—by creating a personal pocket dimension where gear could be stored.

  Sam would be on the lookout for one of those. He was going to be here for six months straight. There was no reason he should have to lug around everything in a bulky backpack that would probably weigh on his already terrible stamina. So, he and Finn would stop to get properly geared up, then they would make their way into town and find a group to party with.

  Truthfully, that was the part Sam was least worried about. Although Sam had spent precious little time so far in the wider Ardania, his brief encounter with Kathleen—the woman who’d directed him to the College—and the handful of melee-class Fighters he’d encountered on the College grounds all pointed to the fact that he wouldn’t have any problem finding a group. Chances were, he and Finn would have to fight off the swarm of offers.

  When Sam finally finished the last round of dishes, he stripped out of his kitchen apron then slipped through the hallways, making his way to the courtyard. Only eight-thirty in the morning. Not too shabby at all. If they moved quickly, Sam would have almost the whole day to grind!

  He found Finn lounging on a bench in the courtyard. The young Noble sat by himself, conjuring and banishing little orbs of frozen power over and over again—no doubt working to level up his Frost Orb spell. The boy looked rather lonely and withdrawn, his face sunken, his eyes hollow, but he lit up like a candle when he saw Sam carving his way across the courtyard toward him.

  “Excellent! I was almost starting to think you’d gotten cold feet cast on you,” he waggled his eyebrows at Sam, obviously smug about his ice-based pun, “and decided to cling to the College grounds like the rest of these spell-sniffing jerks.”

  “Yeah right,” Sam snorted as he rolled his eyes. “I would’ve been here sooner, but I got stuck with breakfast duty.”

  “Ah, that explains it then. I was fortunate enough to get a stint with the Enchanter Claifax. She didn’t have anything for me to do, so she shooed me off almost as soon as I got there. But enough of that! There’s adventuring to be done, and I finally have someone to do it with! This is a treat, you know. I’ve never actually been on a proper adventure before. Strictly speaking, we Nobles aren’t supposed to go out and ‘fraternize’ with the lower castes. It’s not precisely a formal law, understand, but sort of an unspoken rule. As a Mage, it’s even worse—gallivanting around with non-initiates is heavily frowned upon.”

  “Wait, are we not supposed to do this?” Sam paused even as Finn slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him toward the portcullis.

  Finn shrugged, and a mischievous smile broke across his face. “Another one of those unspoken rules. I think if you want to get into the weeds about technicalities, then yes, we’re not supposed to party up randomly—the College likes to control which parties and groups are sanctioned and which ones aren’t. But…”

  He paused and shot Sam a wink. “That only matters if we get caught, and we won’t. Now, do you want to get some adventuring in or not?”

  The College was obsessed with control—controlling magic, controlling who could practice it and how, even going so far as to control who their members could associate with? Well, Sam was getting supremely tired of not having any control over his in-game life. So what if they were breaking some minor rule? He’d come to Eternium to play the game, meet new friends, and embark on some awesome quests! He wasn’t going to let some buzz-killington jerk like Octavius strip this world of every ounce of fun available.

  Instead, Sam smiled, nodded, and kept right on walking, leaving the school behind, at least for a few hours. They worked their way through the town, enjoying the color, life, and vitality blooming everywhere outside the quiet, hallowed halls of magical academia. Things had already changed significantly since Sam had come this way a few days before.

  The build
ings were all the same, but the streets were packed with bodies now. He saw far more Travelers weaving through traffic, munching food on the side of the street, or trickling out of the myriad of different shops, inns, and taverns dotting the cityscape. The Travelers stuck out like sore thumbs due to the ratty noob armor and rusty weapons most of them carried.

  It made sense that people didn't have amazing gear yet. Although time was wonky here, he’d been in Eternium for approximately six days. That meant the game had been live for three days, real-world time. That was just long enough for the first wave of players to get their feet wet but hardly enough time for anyone to make real strides in the game. Leveling was too difficult, and the nature of the quests were too open-ended for anyone to power their way through the early game content. Heck, Sam wasn’t even sure there was ‘early game content’—at least not in the traditional sense of the phrase.

  Finn eventually lead him to a second-hand gear store called Nick’s Knacks: Secondhand Goods at Thirdhand Prices! Just watch out for the Razor Blades!

  Of all of the places Sam had visited so far, this one was the sketchiest by far. The shop was surprisingly thin, the whole storefront not much wider than a standard hallway, with a wooden door which had been painted a bright green at one point. Now, most of the paint was dull and chipped, showing the rough wood beneath.

  The sign overhead was likewise in a terrible state of repair, and the awning jutting from the front of the building had more holes than a standard slice of swiss cheese. Sam hadn’t even noticed the place before Finn took the liberty to point it out; it was almost like his eyes slipped around the innocuous little shop. Probably just another casualty of his low perception… or was it another sign of shenanigans afoot?

  “Really?” Sam faltered as Finn headed for the door. “This is the place we should get our gear from? Unless I’m totally mistaken, aren’t you a Noble? Why would someone like you ever shop in a place like this? This is the kind of place you cross the street to avoid. Have you ever heard of tetanus? Because going in there,” Sam hooked a thumb toward the door, “is how you get tetanus, and that’s coming from a guy who’s spent the last few days wading through actual sewage.”

  Finn raised his hands, a wry smile on his lips. “I know how it looks, but this place is the best, Sam. Truly. This is one time where it’s best not to judge a book by its cover. Trust me on this.”

  Suspicion roamed through Sam, but Finn hadn’t led him wrong yet, so he reluctantly followed the Noble into the interior of the ratty shop. “If I get stabbed or a serious debuff, I’m holding you responsible.”

  Except, the inside was anything but ratty. Somehow, it defied the laws of physics just as the Mage’s College did. The interior was spacious, the hardwood floorboards underfoot gleamed with a dull glow from diligent polishing, and well-crafted tables littered the room displaying goods of all varieties: armor, weapons, backpacks, and satchels. Lining the walls were bookcases filled with old, leather-bound tomes and shelves packed with crafting ingredients of one sort or another. Sam thought he felt his jaw hit the floor, and he checked his health bar, expecting to have taken damage.

  At the back of the well-appointed shop was a sales counter, behind which stood a too-thin man in a tweed suit. He looked like a Victorian-era nobleman, what with his pencil-thin mustache and the air of smug satisfaction that hung around him like a velvet cloak.

  “Lord Laustsen,” the man practically beamed while folding his hands on the counter. “It’s so good to see you, young sir. You’ve brought a little friend along this time. Lovely!”

  Frosty blue eyes as sharp, cold, and calculating as a hawk surveyed Sam. “How very lovely, indeed. Is there anything I can help the two young masters with today?”

  “We’re preparing to do a little adventuring, Mister Nicolas, but for the moment, I think we’ll just look around. Assuming, you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not, Lord Laustsen,” the man replied as slick and greasy as an oil spill.

  “Your household has always been one of our greatest supporters. I’ll be in the back. Just let out a little ring,” he tapped on a small brass bell sitting on the counter, “and I’ll be right out to assist with whatever you might need.”

  With that, Mister Nicolas of Nick’s Knacks gave his tweed coat a tug, then promptly disappeared through a bat-winged door. Sam was fairly certain that connected to a storage room behind the counter; either way, just like that… they were alone.

  “Isn’t he worried about thieves?” Sam dropped his voice to a low whisper.

  “Hardly,” Finn planted a hand on Sam’s shoulder and guided him over to a table piled high with robes and various scholarly garments. “This place is… special. It really is a second-hand store, but one for the Noble houses. The finances of Noble houses, you see, are a tricky thing. Specifically, they’re a topic that isn’t discussed in polite society, but just like all people, Noble houses occasionally fall on hard times and have to sell off valuable items for a variety of reasons. As a Noble, you can’t very well just walk into a high-end store over in the North Waterside and sell off priceless family heirlooms. Not unless you want to set every tongue in the Kingdom waggling.”

  Finn fell quiet, examining a set of icy blue robes that seemed to be made out of silk. “To sell such valuable items would be tremendously tacky and reflect terribly on the house in question. We buy lavishly. We don’t sell, we don’t haggle, and we certainly don’t pinch coppers. So, Nick’s Knacks was opened as another one of those unspoken social niceties so prevalent in high society. This place is in one of the worst parts of town and is warded by powerful illusion magic to keep the wrong sort from finding it. When Nobles need to sell or buy on a budget—and don’t want to be seen doing so—they send a servant here to pick up necessary items.”

  “This is the best the city has to offer and at comparably cut-rate prices. Unfortunately, my household fell on particularly hard times after losing the war. Needless to say, we do most of our business here, and everyone knows it.” Finn gave Sam a sidelong smile though there was hurt hiding just behind his eyes. “Yet one more reason for every other house to loathe our existence. We Laustsens are high born, true, but only in the strictest sense of the word—too rich to slum around with the lower castes, too poor to properly fit in with our peers—but such is life in Ardania. Now, let’s raid this place, make out like bandits, and find some real adventure, shall we?”

  Finn’s words resonated with Sam, and though this gawky, awkward kid was just a simulated bit of code, Sam connected with him deeply. He was happy to have a friend, even if he wasn’t exactly… real. Sam couldn’t just say that, so instead he nodded and dove into the piles of epic gear, rooting around with absolute glee.

  The young man hadn’t been wrong about this place; it had just about everything. A lot of it still seemed overpriced to Sam, but he could afford to spend more than the average player, and Finn assured him he wasn’t likely to find better prices anywhere else in town. At least not on gear of this quality. They spent the next half hour outfitting themselves for whatever perils might await them in the wide and wild world outside the city gates.

  Sam picked up a pair of standard leather boots edged with silver that offered a benefit to constitution, movement speed, and the acrobatics skill; though it also dropped his luck by two points, which was an unfortunate trade-off.

  Boots of the City Slicker. These fanciful boots are a custom item, crafted by a minor Noble who fancied himself an adventurer even though he’d never stepped foot into the wilds of Eternium. Needless to say, he died a horrible and painful death the very first time he ventured out into the great unknown. Be wiser than he was! +2 Constitution, +2% movement speed, damage from falling has been reduced 2%, -2 Luck.

  Sam also sold his old Neophyte robes for forty silvers then upgraded to an outfit crafted from light cloth and leather called the Arcana’s Finery. He regarded himself in a full-length mirror near the clothing tables, noting that he now looked a sixteen-century cosplayer
spoiling for a fight. Like one of the three musketeers, maybe, though he was missing their signature, wide-brimmed cavalier hat.

  Everything else was perfect—fancy pants, form-fitting vest, an ornate outer jacket that resembled a trench coat, though with a high, stiff collar. The odd outfit came with a plus one charisma bonus and lowered prices on items by five percent, which Sam knew could add up to some serious money over time. It also looked as sharp as a dagger’s edge, and the overall armor rating was excellent. Best of all, he wasn’t wearing robes, could move normally again, and the ‘armor’ didn’t inhibit any of his spell-casting abilities.

  Win-win-win as far as Sam was concerned. He did spend some time glancing at an assortment of backpacks but finally decided on a spatial container called the Unending Flask of the Drunkard. On the surface, it was just a worn silver flask, except this thing would allow the owner of the flask to store either a virtually unlimited amount of wine or an extra two hundred pounds worth of goods and items.

  According to Finn, spatial trinkets such as the flask were technically restricted, since smugglers had once used them to import copious quantities of drugs into the Noble districts… but there was one set of rules for the vast majority of the Ardania citizenry and another set of rules entirely for people who know about Nick’s Knacks. Pay to play at its ugliest, but in this case, he didn't mind being on the winning end. Sam needed the container, and refusing to buy wasn’t going to fix the problem anytime soon. He also picked up an enchanted dagger that could be used by spellcasters. It came with some nice bonuses for those embarking on the path of the arcane.