Chapter 2: Dungeon Student

Please excuse the shortest chapter in the book. The Grand Frame’s ranking system is unfortunately not a topic that has a great deal of depth.

To be clear, the list of ranks is simple. It is divided into two groups of five.

The first group consists of elemental ranks. Starting off at the base of Iron, mages can advance through Silver, Gold, Adamantine, until they reach Mithril.

Beyond this point, the mage is said to be on the path of apotheosis, which is why the second group consists of the ascension ranks. After Mithril, a mage becomes Exalted. They then proceed through Titan, Primordial, Empyrean, before finally reaching the pinnacle of the Grand Frame’s assignations—Transcendent.

Basics of Ranks

History of the Grand Frame

High Academ Silver L.

Ryland’s Glyph of Perception wasn’t just Inscribed on his hand to warn him about other presences. He was also using it as a Subglyph on [Translocate].

Essentially, it was there to warn about the nature of the rift’s target location. This nature included, among other things, the presence—or impending presence—of other entities. Living beings he’d need to interact with or be wary of or ensure he didn’t accidentally slice in half with his rift.

Of course, there was a certain “level” up to which life was detected by the Subglyph of Perception. Ryland couldn’t reasonably note every germ floating in the air or every blade of grass he might step on.

But it was enough to stop him from quashing random bugs and anything bigger, which was usually sufficient.

As such, when Ryland stepped through his rift, he received an immediate alert that something was coming. A simple confirmation of what the Glyph of Perception in its Inscribed form had indicated earlier.

The boy arrived with a simple spell burning next to him. A Tier [2] [Pyrelight] acted like a candle to light up the area around him, giving him a strange painterly appearance in the dungeon’s dimness.

Ah, right.

Where Ryland didn’t have any problems seeing thanks to his Inscribed Glyphs and naturally superior eyesight, the same wouldn’t be true for everyone else.

And then the boy asked a rather funny question. Funny, because Ryland had thought it would be some monstrous denizen of the dungeon.

Not a gangly, bespectacled youth who couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen.

“Do I truly look like a denizen of this dungeon?” Ryland asked with genuine curiosity.

The boy blinked at Ryland. Ryland deliberated carefully for a moment, then tried blinking back in sequence. Blinks and pauses were an archaic form of communication, but timelessly effective. When he had first started journeying through the Realms, he had been surprised to discover just how prevalent that specific form of nonverbal communication was.

Although, hand signs were still the superior method.

Right now, however, the boy’s meaning escaped Ryland. Too many blinks in too short a time, and then the pauses went on for far too long…

Oh.

The boy wasn’t trying to tell Ryland something.

Or rather, the only thing he was trying to communicate was the fact that he was surprised.

By what, though? Well, there was the obvious fact of Ryland’s presence, of course. But even beyond that, he pondered what it was about his returned question thathad caused confusion. It had surely been phrased in a clear-cut manner.

Unless…

He had noted that the boy’s dialect had been a little off. While Ryland had recognized the clear Androvian, there were certain qualities about it which were different from the local language he was used to.

Which in turn meant the version of Androvian that Ryland was speaking had to be off to the boy in turn.

It made sense. Ryland hadn’t been to the Realm of Vyrd, much less in the nation of Androvia, for centuries now. No doubt the years had shaped and changed language in ways Ryland didn’t even have the faintest clue about. He almost shuddered imagining what sort of slang could have become popular now.

“If you’re not a dungeon monster…” The boy looked away, eyes moving rapidly as his thoughts were clearly awhirl. “Then, do you know why there are no dungeon monsters?”

“Possibly,” Ryland said. “But to be truly sure, we would need to find and interrogate one of the dungeon denizens, though they aren’t usually very talkative as far as I’m aware. For all we know, they could have all gone on holiday.”

The boy stared at him.

“It was a joke,” Ryland reassured.

If anything, that just made him stare even harder.

Ah. Right. Ryland’s journeys tended to be on the more reclusive side, so his social skills had a tendency to deteriorate over time. He was forced to rebuild them later, of course, like a shanty after a hurricane. Only to get pummelled into disrepair when he went wandering all over again.

Ah, well. At the very least, it kept him on his toes.

“I shouldn’t have been able to run all this way by myself but I didn’t face any obstacles whatsoever,” the boy said. His navy robes were a bit too big on him and his unruly hair flapped as he gesticulated vigorously. “Wait no, that doesn’t matter. We—no, you still need to get out of here. This is a Gold-ranked dungeon!”

“Ah, so dungeons have ranks here too?” Ryland asked. “Interesting. Are you Gold-ranked, then? But no, you only just stated you shouldn’t have been able to come this far on your lonesome. Which suggests you’re weaker. Hmm, allow me to guess. Are you perhaps Silver-ranked?”

At least, he assumed the next lower rank before Gold was Silver. That seemed natural. Ryland would need to learn the entire list of ranks. Maybe his new young companion would be happy to enlighten him.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Although… he admittedly wasn’t looking rather happy at the moment.

Mostly, he just looked puzzled. “Of course the Grand Frame ranks everything. And no…” He flushed. “I’m not Gold-ranked. Yet. I’m still just an Iron-ranked.” He frowned from behind his glasses. “The only reason a student from the academy made it this far is because the dungeon seems… suppressed?”

“Academy?” Ryland asked brightly. That patch on the boy’s chest was looking familiar. “Arcoryx, yes?”

That got him a weird look, along with the nod. “Are you Gold-ranked? Uh, sir?”

Apparently, hurried though he might be, he was trying to remember his manners. What a nice lad.

“I am not Gold-ranked yet either,” Ryland said, very dejectedly.

That got him an even weirder look. “Then what in the world are you doing here?”

“Well, if you must know.” Ryland cleared his throat and took a deep breath, then spoke quickly. “I hail from Realm twenty-two—oh, sorry. You probably know of it as Sederth. Or, I suppose you might not know since it’s not in the Accords. Anyway, I found the piece of myself I was seeking there and managed to stop the meteor strike it had called down. Now, with that done, I rifted here to Vyrd, in search of more pieces before they cause grievous—”

The boy politely interrupted with a cough into his fist. He had a somewhat blank, confused look on his face. Maybe Ryland had been speaking a bit too fast. “I’m sorry sir, but I really need to get going.”

There were hints of a pitying look on his face, one that the boy was clearly trying to unsuccessfully hide. Ryland wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to me—

Ah.

The boy thought Ryland was certifiably insane.