Where exactly was the Tower of Stars in Valuana? That was a question, and even old Valuans would probably be unable to answer it. In a world where mages wielded influence everywhere, they seemed cut off from the lives of ordinary people.
The bridge between the two was the Mage Guild. But at the moment, the doors of the guild outpost in the royal capital were tightly shut.
Rorschach had followed the merchant caravan into the city as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon. He was exhausted now and desperately needed a safe, comfortable bed. After checking around, he found a doorbell.
He pressed it, but there was no response at all. Rorschach could only start knocking, and each knock grew heavier than the last.
The door slowly opened a crack. "Who is it? Do you know where this is? What time do you think it is?"
Ding~ ding~ ding~ ding~ ding~ ding~ ding~
As soon as the words fell, the bells of Saint Miller Monastery rang seven times in the distance.
"It's seven o'clock, sir. Does the Valuan guild not open at seven?"
"Quack!"
"Huh? Speak louder!" The crack widened slightly, revealing a sleepy young man with freckles all over his face.
Rorschach finally got a clear look at him, and he got a clear look at the visitor as well. "Oh, a mage!" The young man moved a little faster, and the door finally opened wide enough for someone to slip through sideways.
The golden hall held only the two of them. Rorschach noticed a complicated mechanical assembly built into the wall behind the front desk: brass pipes, levers, a few exposed gears, and gauges.
"Sorry, sorry. Knocking on the door at this hour, I thought some drunk Sans-culottes were playing a prank!" After they entered, the young man struggled to shut the door again. "No one's cast a Grease Spell on the hinges in ages!"
Was that really how a Grease Spell was supposed to be used?
Rorschach had no favorable impression of this young man, who was slacking off on the job and still had a poor attitude. "I'm not wearing breeches, so I am indeed a Sans-culottes."
"Please don't say that, sir! But you have to understand, pounding on the door first thing in the morning is rather uncouth. Besides, there's a doorbell!"
"I pressed the doorbell, but no one answered."
"Huh?" Remembering something, the young man pulled two wads from his ears. "Look at me, I was half asleep and forgot I was wearing earplugs! Sorry, sorry. Please accept my most sincere apologies." Yet his apology came with no actual action.
"May I ask what business brings you to my humble abode so early?"
This resplendent hall and this entire building were his humble abode? Rorschach suppressed the urge to mock him and got straight to the point. "I'm going to the Tower of Stars."
"Oh, a young Spellcaster heading to the Tower of Stars. Then you must be Mage Ro... Rosa!"
"Rorschach."
The young man skipped over to the front desk. "Sorry, Mr. Rorschach, we've been waiting for you for ages! You see, an Imperial coming to Valuana, coming to the Tower of Stars, is always something new. Especially since there are only so many Spellcasters, and the circle is so small, right? Your familiar is a duck! What can it do? Lay golden eggs?"
"Unfortunately, he's male." Rorschach discovered that for every sentence he said, this fellow could say three.
The other man pulled one of the many levers behind the desk, muttering, "Case 0412 pending."
With a puff, a brass pipe extending from the ceiling all the way to the counter spat out a paper tube. The young man opened it and took a look, then pulled another lever. After a spell of grinding gears, the wall shifted and a drawer popped out.
"Mage Rorschach, these are the items you are to receive. My teacher asked me to give them to you. As long as you inject magic into this card, a pointer will guide you to your destination."
He happily rubbed his hands together. "My name is Pascal, an apprentice. Mage Rorschach, what a coincidence—my mentor is also Teacher Kano. We're fellow disciples."
"Very well, Apprentice Pascal."
"I'm working here to scrape together some credits." Pascal looked deflated. "Don't you want to know what kind of vampire our mentor is, making his students work at the Mage Guild reception desk to make up their credits?"
"Oh? What is our mentor like? Please introduce him to your junior brother, Senior Brother."
"Ahem, ahem." Pascal was immensely pleased to hear himself called "Senior Brother" and gave a solemn introduction:
"Lionel Kano, Eighth-tier Archmage, newly appointed Chief Professor of the Tower of Stars, member of the Arcane Council, senior member of the Alchemy Council, senior arbiter of the Owl Court, only son of the Kano Family, the most talked-about Spellcaster in Valuana's social circles, though he isn't handsome either. A successful man who sleeps in every morning and only starts work in the afternoon, and an unqualified mentor who neglects his apprentices so thoroughly that no one is willing to apply to his research group anymore."
Why had he started badmouthing his own mentor right after listing all those titles? Setting aside the resentful comments at the end, Rorschach only felt that the backer Teacher Caroline had recommended was incredibly powerful! Ah, living in Valuana was not easy, but it felt like life would be much easier if he clung tightly to this master's thick thigh!
The young man took out another map and business card, pointing to a spot on the city's central axis. "Starting at nine every day, Teacher Kano dines at the sky restaurant in Starlight Torch Tower. He asked us to tell you that it would be best to meet him before heading to the Magic Tower."
The business card was very simple: "Lionel Kano," set against a background of eight nested golden rings surrounding a starlit high tower. Clearly, the card displayed both his Archmage rank and affiliation.
Since he was going to a restaurant frequented by high-ranking mages, Rorschach asked Pascal to look after Yazi for the time being.
Following the marked point on the map, Rorschach passed by the Stomach of Valuana again. The unloading had already finished, and the city's common residents and noble servants were coming and going.
The butcher shops had already opened. Some even used huge, extravagantly expensive sheets of glass to display plump, glistening sausages, smoked meat, and fresh cuts inside. Several children pressed against the glass and drooled. The broad, burly butcher came out, chased them away, then grumbled as he wiped off the dirty handprints they had left behind.
Vegetables whose names he did not know filled the greengrocers' stalls. Every so often, they used spray bottles to freshen their produce with a little water.
"Oh, Johnny, if you cook this bundle of fresh, crisp milk bamboo shoots well, the master will surely reward you." One vegetable seller had remembered a high-value customer and was eagerly hawking the expensive vegetables.
There was still plenty of time before nine. In his previous life as a student, Rorschach had hated going to wet markets. Noise, filth, and disorder were always their defining features. But here, that long-lost and somewhat familiar feeling made him walk inside.
"Valuana truly deserves to be the largest city on the southern continent. Even its market has more produce than the Imperial Capital."
There was a bakery. Rorschach had not eaten breakfast yet, so he bought a buttered roll, then went to the butcher's to buy two slices of smoked meat—many people could only afford to buy it by the slice, but that made it convenient for Rorschach to make himself a "sandwich."
There was no sauce, but the clean, refreshing flavor was still good. The rich fat and smoky flavor of the meat, the creamy fragrance of butter, and the aroma of wheat unfolded one after another, making Rorschach take bite after bite.
He was just about to finish the last bit when a commotion broke out in the market.
A thin, dark-skinned man came scrambling out of the seafood section in a panic. "Catch the thief!" "Damn Sans-culottes!" Shouts like those followed close behind.
I have no backlog left. I may be typing in a rush, so bug reports are welcome. (There should be readers still following along, right...)
Before you continue