Chapter 7: An Adventurer’s Job

“Are you sure you want to register?” Katryn asked.

The next morning arrived quickly, and Adam was walking through the busy street with Katryn by his side. He hadn’t wanted to ask anyone for directions, not after what he’d experienced the last time. Instead, he’d had Katryn escort him, promising a favor in return and she’d accepted ... maybe a little too quickly. He couldn’t begin to guess what her favor would be, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it. Right now, his mind was set on a single task, registering as an adventurer. The conversation with Elsa had given him some ideas on what to expect, he just had to hope there were no sudden surprises. But who was he kidding, it had been one nasty surprise after another since he got here.

“I know it’s dangerous, but I have to earn money somehow.”

“There are other ways to do that,” she said.

He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Probably, but I also want to find a way to get back home,” he added. “I figured adventurers would know about far off kingdoms and lands, and maybe about strange magic they’d seen, I mean they’re adventurers.”

“Why do you want to know about strange magic?”

Adam hesitated for a brief moment, then decided he could tell her as much as he’d told Elsa. “I want to know about teleportation magic. It’s how I was in the forest.”

Her face twisted in thought. “Oh, that’s why Elsa is interested in you. I suppose if I asked where you’re from originally, you wouldn’t tell me?”

Adam smiled and gave a shake of his head. “I could tell you, but you wouldn’t have heard about it anyway,” he said simply. “So there’s really no point in talking about it.”

“Sounds like you just don’t want to tell me,” Katryn said.

He didn’t refute the statement. She was right, he didn’t want to tell her. He’d decided that he needed to be more careful about that information. He’d only told Elsa, and she could already be looking into whether a kingdom like that existed. The more people he told, the more chance they would do the same. And how strange would it be if no one had heard of it? No matter how skilled a liar he was, he’d never be able to talk his way out of that.

Katryn let out a breath, folding her hands behind her back. “If it’s magic you want to know about, you could learn that at the Knight Academy ... well, if you get in.”

Adam’s forehead creased. He’d suspected something like a Knight Academy might exist, but he hadn’t asked, doing so would only have made Elsa much more suspicious of him. From her point of view, he must have seemed odd enough already—a boy found in a forest claiming to be without memory. He had no ties to this kingdom, further asking about the place where their defenders were trained would’ve set off all kinds of alarms. As it was, he was fortunate to be walking freely ... even if under watchful eyes.

Still, now that Katryn mentioned it, he thought about it. Maybe it was something he could do once he proved he wasn’t a threat. The academy should have books about magic.

“Is it hard to get in?” Adam asked thoughtfully.

She gave a slow nod. “Very. You have to pass the entrance exam to get in, and I’ve heard it tests both physical and mental strength. Only thirty-five percent of applicants make it through, and thirty fall into Bronze-Ranks, five become Silver-Ranks.”

“What about Gold-Ranks? Like Elsa?” He asked curiously, glancing down at her.

“Gold-Ranks aren’t titles that get assigned regularly, otherwise we’d have more than twenty-one of them,” she answered. “Knights like Elsa are outliers.”

Only thirty-five percent of applicants passed, and Elsa was an outlier. Yet she’d said she would only be second-tier if she were an adventurer. Did that mean adventurers were generally stronger? No, the knights seemed to run things in the kingdom. He had a feeling that things would be vastly different if adventurers were the more powerful group.

Perhaps, aside from a select few, most adventurers were lower tiers.

Adam reasoned that if Elsa, a Gold-Rank knight, was thought to be a second-tier, then a Silver-Rank knight was likely third-tier, and a Bronze-Rank, fourth-tier.

Maybe most adventurers were on, or below, the fourth tier.

Adam glanced at her. “When’s the next entrance exam? And how long does it take to complete the training?” he asked, his voice neutral. He didn’t have any particular interest in serving the kingdom, but his curiosity about the academy had been piqued.

“Actually, the last group was admitted before you arrived. The entrance exam won’t be held again until next year. It takes about three years to finish, give or take.”

Adam didn’t know what year it was, or what kind of calendar these people used. In truth, the fact that they spoke the same language hadn’t really registered to him, not deeply at least. And worse still, he hadn’t stopped to consider whether time flowed differently in this world. What if a year here was only a month on Earth? Or worse—what if time moved slower, and by the time he returned, if he returned, everything he loved was already gone?

He hoped that wasn’t the case. He prayed it wasn’t...

One thing was certain, he couldn’t stay here for long. He had to find a way back to his world as soon as possible, and that meant he couldn’t consider the Knight Academy an option, especially as the admission process just concluded, and probably wouldn’t open for a long time, time he simply didn’t have. Waiting around wasn’t an option.

Adam shook his head. “That’s too long,” he whispered.

Katryn looked at him, her brown eyes piercing, lingering longer than he thought was necessary. “You’re really desperate to get home. Is there something waiting ... someone?”

His jaw tightened. “My sister,” he replied in a low voice.

She offered a quiet smile. “I hope you’re able to see her again,” she said, then looked forward and her smile stretched wider. “Look, we’re here.” She pointed forward.

Adam followed her pointing finger to a prominent building just ahead.

“Can I leave you here without worrying you’ll lose your way?”

He gave a restrained smile. “I think I’ll be fine,” he said. “Should be able to find my way back as well, you pointed out a few landmarks I can use. Thanks for the help, really.”

“You’re welcome.” She beamed. “And don’t forget, you owe me.”

He gave a nod. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ll see you when you get back, hopefully.”

She left, and Adam continued forward. Soon, he found himself standing in front of the great stone archway of the Adventurer’s Guild. It was bigger than he’d expected. The building looked like an old fortress that had since been converted into something between a bar and a courthouse, with high pillars, banners of faded green and gold fluttering in the breeze, and an open space where armed men and women gathered in noisy clusters.

He started toward the building, then hesitated on the steps for a moment. Becoming an adventurer, the thought still felt foreign to him. Just a few days ago, he’d been sitting in a lecture hall, pursuing a degree in engineering. Now, he was about to plunge into a world he knew nothing about, one of uncertainty and peril. But there was no other choice.

Adam drew in a deep breath and continued. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of what he’d come to recognize as ale and something else. Adventures lingered all over the wide hall, wearing all kinds of armor and clothes, as some laughed over drinks while others argued over sheets of paper nailed to large boards along the walls.

It was the first time Adam had seen so many armed people gathered under one roof, and none of them looked anything like the knights he’d been used to seeing since he arrived here. A few of the adventurers glanced his way, seeming almost to size him up, in the same way wolves might study a stray sheep. He hoped there wouldn’t be a problem.

Adam ignored the looks and made his way toward the long counter at the end of the hall, where several clerks worked behind thick ledgers and stacks of paper. They all looked tidily-dressed in their pristine green uniforms, seeming more like important secretaries than people who worked with adventurers. One of them, a woman with dark hair tied into a tight braid, glanced up with a warm smile as he approached the counter.

“Hello,” she said kindly. “How may I help you today.”

He stopped. “I’d like to register.”

The woman’s eyes flicked over him, sharply noticing the plain clothes he wore, no armor, no weapons visible. But whatever thoughts she had about him, she didn’t say it out loud. She just pulled out a blank form and dipped her quill. “Name?”

“Adam ... Adam Wells,” he answered calmly.