Control Comes from Within

“Our next item is a tier 2 sword forged by the renowned blacksmith, Master Kurife! Its blade has been imbued with both growth and shrinking enchantments, as well as the ability to make minor repairs to itself! Bidding starts at fourteen circles!”

The auctioneer’s introduction sent a few of the bidders into a polite yet determined frenzy, as they immediately began calling out bids for the item, the waving of their numbered paddles accompanying their shouted bids.

As I leaned back in the soft wooden-backed chair, I let the shouts and exclamations of the patrons wash over me as I unknowingly recalled how I arrived here.

After being unexpectedly pinned down and kissed by Teroa, I managed to get away from her before she could take things even further. The…feelings I was anticipating from the physical contact were less…overwhelming than I expected, but it was still a noteworthy demonstration of my ability to restrain myself. It was within my power, both magically and physically, to force her to stop, but doing so would turn her even more aggressive, and even at the best of times, she tended to be…mercurial.

I managed to push her off me and rolled off the bed, the momentum inadvertently sending me to the floor. Before I could even say a word in explanation, her eyes were wide in disbelief, and once again, tears began silently flowing down her small face. She took my unwillingness to be kissed in my bed in front of everyone as a signal to cry even more, and it was at that point she completely broke down, bawling almost like a baby.

Our group of friends, at least the ones who were assembled in my room, were divided into two at her sobbing.

The girls took Teroa back to Riddis’ room to console her and…do whatever girls did here to raise their moods instead of eating ice cream, while the guys were told in no uncertain terms to stay away from them for at least a day. I received a few glares and a couple grimaces from the girls before they left that told me how they felt I handled the situation.

I was half-squatting on the floor of my bedroom, having rolled off the bed to escape from Teroa’s grasp, with three other guys standing around and looking awkwardly at the girls locking the door to their room, when Timek asked, “You okay, man?”

I stood up and brushed off my clothes, shaking my head while saying, “Yeah, I just…I think I could use a distraction right about now.”

Tyrithen clapped his hands together, “Alright! Then let’s explore the festival! Food, plays, games, there’s loads of things that we can do, right?” His eagerness was clearly masking his discomfort with what had just happened, as I had never recalled him being that outgoing before.

Orddis sighed, “I heard that there’s an auction taking place in about an hour. The plays and food can wait till after. We’ll…wait in the lobby while you get ready.”

And the next thing I knew, I found myself in an auction house, listening to the auctioneer’s sultry voice cry out ever-increasing numbers for the different goods, her melodious words audible even over the din of bidders clamoring for their items.

To no one’s surprise, the auction was more of an event to ‘broaden my horizons’ and see what was out there rather than something to actively participate in. The auction house had waived their usual entry fee for customers for the duration of the festival, but the high prices practically guaranteed that any winning bids would come from a noble. Even Orddis and Timek, who had been given spending money for the festival, were prevented from purchasing anything of quality, as the local nobles of the capital spent their money like water.

True to form, the final items of the auction were the most eye-catching, the egg of a wild land dragon, whose parents were estimated to be at tier 1, and an ancient amulet that was capable of teleporting the wearer twice before breaking. The chance to bond with a dragon of any variety was worth more than money, as was the ability to buy a life-saving item with multiple uses.

It was at that point that I remembered that orbs were a currency as well, much like the legendary and elusive hundred-dollar bill, that represented the pinnacle of wealth, as nobles began bidding in multiple increments of orbs.

Even Orddis, whose father was a count, had never seen that much money being thrown around on a single transaction.

By the time the final bid was called, I was in a familiar state of total shock, and the cries of outrage and indignation from the losing bidders were barely a whisper to my distracted brain.

There was another denomination above orbs?

What was the point?! What could possibly be that expensive to justify such wealth?!

“Hey, Rhaaj, do you want honey or herbal candies?” Orddis’ voice pulled me back into the real world, where I found myself sandwiched between my friends as we stood in front of a stall offering hard candies with a plethora of different flavors. Evidently my shock had made me unresponsive and they had seen fit to pull me away from the end of the auction, and into a place where my brain had no issues accepting what was occurring in front of it.

“Weren’t we just in the auction house?” I asked, looking around at the busy streets and the packed stalls lining the sides.

Orddis rolled his eyes before Timek said, “That was almost twenty minutes ago, man! Now focus! Ooh, look, they’ve got a…what is this flavor, actually?”

“Bittermelon from the south, young customer! Part of the gifts from our beastfolk brothers across the sea!” the old stall owner announced.

“Let’s try one of those, and…hey, you okay?” Timek asked, stopping his perusal of the stall’s offerings long enough to look in my direction.

“Yeah, I just saw a bookstore that looked interesting,” I replied, my gaze still fixed on the bookstore at the nearby intersection. “Here, you guys take this,” I said as I turned around and handed them a separate pouch with about fifteen triangles inside, a veritable mini-fortune for me, “Get a bunch of snacks and we’ll pig out in a bit. I’m just going to head over there for a little,” I said, pointing to the bookstore with a display on it that said all products were 70% off for the festival.

“You sure, man? I think we should –” Tyrithen started saying.

“Yeah, that’s cool. You take your time in there, and we’ll come get you when we’re done, alright?” Timek interrupted him, getting a nod from me in response.

I saw Timek and Orddis drag away a confused Tyrithen down to the next stall in line, and watched them go off until Timek turned back and winked at me. I was grateful that at least he seemed to be understanding of my desire to be alone right now.

Even I couldn’t explain where this desire for solitude came from, or why it struck me so profoundly, but I wasn’t in the mood to analyze myself that deeply and figure out the pros and cons and all the other consequences of indulging my whim. If anything, I had learned that suppressing my feelings was only a temporary measure, and while doing so may have been the first step on the path to gaining true control over my feelings, the fact that there were further steps in that process implied that I might as well listen to my feeling, even if there were no concrete reason to do so.

I nodded back to Timek, mentally appreciating his observational skills, and headed to the bookstore, moving through the throngs of people in the streets and letting the flow push me in its general direction. The bookstore was a corner building that only had one floor, but was clearly well cared for, its thin stone roof regularly cleaned and its wooden walls newly lacquered, the bright shades of brown showing the level of attention the owner gave.

The bookstore’s interior was equally clean and maintained, its small size lending it a cozy feel that would be absent in larger establishments. There were rows of bookshelves arranged throughout the room with enough space to comfortably stroll between them. Scrolls were arranged on one side of the room, while books took up the other. The counter in the back was manned by an older couple who were reading a book together, their attention split between the enormous bound book they were reading and each other, one or the other giggling or making some comment every so often.

I had been to a few bookstores during my time in both Jyvra City and Svenia City, but this one was likely the best cared for store I had been to. Bookstores found more traction among commoners than the nobles, for the most part, leading to less time being spent on their appearance and more on keeping a full inventory. This was because most books that sold well were geared more towards entertainment than anything else, with the more serious works such as literature or non-fiction or most things academic being kept in the hands of the noble families or the academies. Copyrights also weren’t a thing, so anyone could plagiarize and straight-up carbon copy the words if they had the materials and time to do so.

In what wasn’t startling to me at all, the gossip I had overheard in the social gatherings at the academy were beginning to discuss the possibility of introducing some type of law to introduce copyrighting published works, allowing authors (cough, cough, mostly the nobles) to properly be compensated for their works without copies floating around that wouldn’t earn them any coin. Of course, the majority of commoners didn’t care about the legitimacy of their books as long as it was compelling, but the same couldn’t be said for nobles.

But that was all a tangent. The point was that this store was impeccable in both its available goods and its appearance. Browsing the side with books let me read the covers and I noticed that there were a wide array of subjects. The majority of novels were for entertainment, sporting titles such as, ‘The Beastly Baron and His Homely Housekeeper’, ‘Sword of the Mother: A Tale of the Heroes of Ages Past’, and ‘A Cruel Count and His Many Crimes’. Romance novels, in particular, seemed to be popular, with how empty those particular sections were.

The scroll side of the store was obviously less popular as it contained multiple rolled-up scrolls that comprised a single work. For the most part, there was no difference whether an author chose to use scrolls or books as their medium, other than convenience. But purists, like the author of ‘Treatise on the Importance of Essence in Early Stages of Childhood Development’ preferred scrolls simply because books were a more recent invention, only becoming mainstream in the last hundred years or so.

I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. In fact, I didn’t even know what I was doing here, other than it being a convenient place that my friends were unlikely to follow me into, so I went to the counter, interrupting the elderly couple who were whispering in each other’s ears, and just asked them for a recommendation.

“Excuse me,” I said, getting their attention, “Do you have any materials concerning the beastfolk?”

I was curious about the beastfolk in general, and taking into account my plans to travel there post graduation, getting as much info about them as possible seemed like well thought-out preparation.

It’s not like I just blurted out the first thing I could think of, like the origin of those melon candies I was just looking at. That would be stupid and impulsive of me, and I had definitely shown growth in suppressing those two emotions within me. Absolutely.

“And a happy founder’s festival to you too, young man,” the old lady said to me, a slight frown on her face.

Seeing her reaction, her husband, at least that’s who I assumed he was, took pity on me and beckoned me closer, stage-whispering to me, “You should wish her a happy founder’s festival first, customer. Then we can talk about business,’ he winked at me, putting a hand on his wife’s hand and gently grasping it.

He was right. What were all the etiquette lessons I took for, if not to avoid being an idiot in public, especially in situations like this?

Mentally reprimanding myself, I proceeded to apologize by slightly lowering my head, “I apologize to both of you for my bluntness. You are correct. I wish you both a happy founder’s festival, as well as peace and prosperity for the many years yet to come,” I finished.

At my admission of wrongdoing, the woman’s frown reversed itself as she politely smiled at me, “That’s better. Now, you seem like you’ve come from a far way aways, haven’t you?” she said, her smile wider than it was before.

“Yes, I’m a student at Svenia Academy, and my friends and I came here for the tournament,” I said.

At that, her eyebrow raised. “Oh? You seem to be adjusting to the new environment rather well,” she said conversationally.

“I suppose…” I replied hesitantly, unsure of where she was going.

“Well, I’ll give you the same advice I give to all students: learning isn’t all about books and assessment. You need to ingrain the knowledge you’re given, rather than the facts they spit at you in those glass cages.”

“You said you were looking for materials on the beastfolk?” the old man asked, heading off his wife, who looked like she had more to say about the academies.

“That’s right,” I responded.

“Anything specific, or just something to pass the time?” he continued.

“Ideally, I’d like maps of the beastfolk and elven continents, but I’d guess things like that are rare and kept in the hands of nobles.” I offered.

“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger on the table, before informing me, “Wait right there, I might have something for you in the back.”

As he slowly got off his stool, he headed deeper into the store behind the counter, leaving me with his wife, who started grilling me about the state of the academy and the quality of the instructors there.

As I kept talking about my academy life, it became apparent to me that the elderly woman I was speaking with had no issues when it came to talking about the problems at the academy, at least the ones the administration wouldn’t, or couldn’t, fix.

“And the instructors! In my day, the instructors were all accomplished and learned experts, not these wishy-washy noble brats who’ve barely set foot in a library, not to mention the blatant corruption and nepotism! Ignoring a student in need because they aren’t a noble? The entire IDEA behind the academy was to uplift those who couldn’t do it themselves! And now those old and wrinkled deans or headmasters or whatever else they’re calling themselves convince their faculties that damned politics actually has a role to play in the academy?!” She paused for breath, and I was legitimately concerned that she might have a heart attack or a stroke or something and die. I might have some foundation in healing, but I wasn’t confident in doing something so soon, and besides, –

“I found it in the back! It was hiding behind a series of anthologies! Here we go!” he laid a large and thick book onto the counter, an audible thud sound rising from the impact.

“And, what exactly is this?” I asked, pointing to the heavy-looking book. It was clearly old, as time, or vermin, had eroded the edges of the covers, and the colors had faded nearly entirely.

It had an odd smell similar to vanilla, but aged more.

“This, young friend, is an absolute treasure if you are considering travelling beyond these shores! It is one of very few remaining diaries detailing a young merchant’s time exploring the other continents, before the Wall was erected. In those days, travel was easier and safer, the seas were less congested with monsters, and teleportation costs were barely given consideration! Young heirs would often travel before settling down, exploring distant lands and bonding with our non-human friends. Such traditions died down long ago, but this diary contains an accurate account of the merchant heir’s travels throughout all the continents, save for the northern one, of course.” The old man said, gently wiping the cover with a clean rag he held, dislodging the dirt from it and making it just a tad more presentable.

“Interesting…” I said, as I looked at the book, or more specifically, the cover. It was a green sheet of thicker material, sheepskin or something similar, with an unfamiliar emblem on it: a golden blooming flower beside an anatomically accurate drawing of a heart, both of which were encircled by various weapons. “And how much might this cost?”

The old man smiled at me, “Two triangles should be enough.”

I almost lost control over my expression, but I managed not to raise my eyebrows or let my jaw drop or show any other expression of shock on my face. With what I knew about books, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, something like this would cost at the bare minimum a circle on account of its age. Its degradation may have knocked a square or two off the price, but that wouldn’t be much.

I was slightly suspicious of such obvious goodwill, but I quickly stifled that suspicion and just accepted that they were nice people. I knew there was no reason for the old couple before me to display such generosity to a stranger, but…maybe that’s just who they were? Hell, for all I knew, the book was cursed (which, unfortunately, was a real thing here) and they were trying to offload it onto me.

Regardless, I decided to take their words at face value, reaching into a coin pouch and dropping the stated amount, along with a little something extra.

I could afford to spend a little more when it came to repaying strangers, though it was hard to put a price on kindness.

“For your troubles. Thank you for this, and happy founder’s festival once again,” I said, as I nodded to them and made my way out of the shop, the heavy-looking book deceptive in its appearance. It weighed about as much as an individual piece of paper, and I kept a tight grasp on it, deciding to stick it in my beast space after I reached somewhere more private.

With my emotions less turbulent, I felt ready to rejoin my friends for the rest of the day, allowing a small amount of optimism to affect me as I looked forward to eating something exotic, or at the very least, cheap and tasty.