Part 2: The Day It All Started
THE reference room turned out to be a lot smaller inside than it looked from the outside. The sign at the entrance read “Reference Room and Storage,” so the area behind the grumpy-looking man at the reception desk was probably the storage room, and that took up most of the space. As far as I could tell, he and I were the only ones there. He looked at me when I stopped at the entrance. I inclined my head in a polite greeting and to my surprise, he returned it with an easygoing nod of his own before seemingly losing interest in me and focusing once more on the book in his hands. If he’d been up to no good, I would have disliked him instantly. But at the moment, my only impression of him was, Seems like a serious guy.
I roamed the aisles for a while, browsing the spines of the books. After doing a full circuit of the room, I chose two thick tomes to examine more closely. I placed them on a table, sat down in a chair, and opened the one provocatively titled, An Idiot’s Guide to Money.
You’ve gotta be really confident to give your book a title designed to offend people, huh? But it lived up to that title because it turned out to be extremely easy to understand.
Two types of currency existed in this world—one issued by the overarching Merchants’ Guild and one issued by countries. Adventurers usually only used commercial currency since their activities took them across borders. However, out of the Merchants’ Guild’s consideration for sovereign nations, their currency was valued a bit lower than national currencies.
A copper coin with a hole in the middle was the first unit of currency, then at each increase in the tens digit, you had a silver coin and then a gold coin. Anything above that was often handled with bonds or certificates. Some countries issued currency denominations higher than gold coins, but apparently that was a rare sight. It was unsurprising really, considering how huge the amount of money involved would be for ordinary folks.
You only needed a few coins to buy something to eat from the food stalls—I had already been drawn in by the delicious smell wafting from one and seen the prices—so one copper coin was probably about the same as a hundred yen in Japan.
I wrote down everything useful in my notebook, moved that first book to the edge of the table, and opened the second one. It was titled, Read This and You Too Could Become a Mage! With hopes of learning the rules of magic in detail, I turned to the first page, only to be met with cute illustrations. What is this, a picture book?
But even while wondering if this volume was geared toward children, I tried not to have any biases as I flipped through it. My quick skim surprised me because I discovered the information I wanted laid out in a succinct, easy-to-understand format. The author’s name, along with a note, was included at the end of the book.
By Tri Sorcerer Jill Spring. Glory and bright future to all mages.
The book was probably written for the purpose of training mages and improving their status. A mysterious excitement was bubbling in me as I turned the pages. This doesn’t bode well. It wasn’t always easy for adults to be bold and surrender to our wildest dreams, because we were long past the age where we would be easily forgiven for making mistakes.
I closed my eyes and slammed the book shut. Then I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. It did nothing to suppress the restless eagerness whirling around inside me, but that was probably just because I wasn’t used to this world yet. That had to be it. Once my feet touched solid ground, surely these feelings would disappear. I have to believe that.
✦ ✦ ✦
THE bell outside started to ring. The seminar would start soon.
I hurriedly stashed my notebook in my pocket and returned the books to their original locations. As I exited the room, I nodded to the man at the front desk again. He returned the greeting and I couldn’t help but think, What a conscientious man. Then I continued swiftly down the hallway.
The Guild’s main lobby was as enormous and overwhelming as before. Luckily, I’d already scouted out the lecture hall where the seminar was being held, so I wasn’t worried about being late. I walked straight ahead to the room around the corner and gently put my hand on the door.
I opened it very slowly to peek inside. It was empty. A flood of emotions swept through me, relief that I wasn’t late mixed with unease that I had the wrong room. I stuck my head out in the hallway again to double check the sign plate. It definitely still read “Lecture Hall,” so I stepped inside and closed the door softly behind me.
Several desks and chairs were tucked into the back of the room. I was reminded of a school classroom from my old life as I dragged one of the desks to what seemed like the front of the room, then grabbed a chair to go with it. I sat down, opened up my notebook, and reviewed what I’d learned so far. I figured the teacher and other new adventurers would eventually arrive while I waited.