6. The Guild Was a Terrible Idea

Adolin stared out the carriage window, his expression sour.

Why did I get the memories of a country bumpkin? Ugh.

His memories made him feel like he had robbed Eduard. So why did it feel like he was the one who got robbed?

He clicked his tongue. He hated that feeling.

Dareth’s memories were unreliable at best. Relying on the judgment of a coinless kid had been a mistake from the start. He needed better information about this world. A library would be a good start. Lira, and her mother too.

He didn’t like the judgment creeping into his thoughts.
He didn’t know her circumstances. And she was still a kid.
A good one, at that. Talking to her hadn’t felt like a chore.

On the bright side, he wasn’t homeless anymore.
Not for the next two weeks, at least.

The trip back to the city was far quicker. The carriage followed the main road this time, instead of winding through tunnels. Adolin spent the entire ride staring out the window.

It was peaceful. Just the quiet of the forest, the steady thud of hooves, and the creak of the carriage.
Best of all, no one tried to talk to him. He loved it.

Soon, they arrived at the city gate. For the first time, Adolin noticed just how tall the walls were.
In his estimation, they rose more than fifteen meters of solid stone.

There were three lines as far as he could tell. Two for carriages, and one for those on foot. The finer carriages passed through the left lane without delay. The other was packed with merchant wagons, piled high with goods.

The carriage he was in veered toward the left. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to talk to the guards.

Soon, the carriage came to a stop. The small window at the front slid open.

“Sir, we’ve reached the gate,” the driver said. “I’ll need your identification card.”

Adolin froze.

The unreliable memories failed him again. He had no idea he needed an identification card, let alone how to get one.

Dareth had been brought into the city by a merchant. The guards hadn’t even looked at him. They had only checked the merchant’s papers.

Adolin clicked his tongue.

“I don’t have one,” he said.

The driver was silent for a moment.

“No problem, sir.”

The carriage started moving again, soon coming to a stop at the gate.

Adolin focused, listening to what was happening outside.

“Identification,” a guard said.

Adolin glanced out the window and saw the driver hand over his papers.

He hoped it would be enough. He needed sleep.

“And the guest?” the guard asked.

“An important guest of House Velmuth,” the driver replied.

“I’ll still need to see identification.”

The driver slipped a small pouch into the guard’s hand.

The guard looked over the papers again.

“Clear. Move along,” the guard said, motioning for the driver to proceed.

What a reliable guy.

Adolin considered tipping the driver, but he didn’t have the coin for it.

Next time he returned to the estate, he would.

After some time, the carriage came to a stop.

“We’ve arrived, sir.”

Adolin stepped out and looked around. It was the same place he’d been kidnapped from.

He chuckled.

“How important is identification?” Adolin asked.

The driver tilted his head. “You won’t get far without it, sir.”

“What about an inn?”

The driver thought for a moment. “The better ones require it for a room.”

Adolin clicked his tongue and nodded.

“Where can I get one?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“There are a few ways, sir. The Adventurers’ Guild issues cards that serve as legal identification. The church can provide one as well. And then there’s a local ID, usually given in your city of birth.”

From the three options, only one worked for Adolin.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The Adventurers’ Guild.

There had been one in his old world. If it worked the same way here, getting a card shouldn’t be a problem.

“Where can I find the guild?”

“South of the Academy, a few streets before the market,” the driver said. “I can take you there, sir.”

“Perfect.”

Adolin stepped back into the carriage.

The driver really was reliable. He’d have to increase that tip.

A few minutes later, Adolin stood before the Adventurers’ Guild.

The building was massive, its quality rivaling the temple by the harbor. But unlike the temple, it carried a rougher, more practical feel. The courtyard was filled with adventurers. Leather armor, weapons, and the occasional set of steel. The more successful ones, Adolin guessed.

He said his goodbyes to the driver and stepped inside.

The moment he stepped inside, Adolin felt like he didn’t need an identification card after all.

The hall was loud. Voices overlapped, chairs scraped across the floor, adventurers shouted over one another. It was a nightmare.

He swallowed and forced himself forward.
He needed the card. He needed a room in the inn.

The reception desk was twenty meters in front of him. That was his target.

On his fourth step, someone stepped into his path.

Adolin slowed.

Then another adventurer crossed in front of him, carrying three mugs of beer.
Adolin stopped to avoid colliding with him.

A shout erupted somewhere to his left. Laughter followed, louder than before.

He could still leave. He should leave.

No. He cut the thought short. The card was important.

When he finally managed to squeeze through the crowd and get close to the reception desk, he stopped.

His eyes widened.
More than a dozen people were waiting in line.

Adolin stepped into the line and hoped for the best.

He advanced by one spot before someone stepped in behind him.
He didn’t turn. Didn’t acknowledge it. Hoping it would stay that way.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind him.

Adolin froze.

No one was talking to him. He repeated it to himself.

“Excuse me.”

He didn’t want to be rude, so he took a slow breath and turned.

A woman stood behind him. Slightly shorter, dressed in a mage’s robe. Her golden-brown hair was tied back, her amethyst eyes fixed on him.

“First time at the guild?”

“Yes,” Adolin said.

The woman chuckled lightly. “You looked nervous.”

Adolin nodded.

“Elira,” she added.

“Dareth,” Adolin said.

“Nice to meet you. Don’t worry about the receptionist. She looks scary, but she’s actually pretty nice,” Elira said.

Adolin nodded again.

Did she still not get it?

“Her name’s Hilda. Just throw in a few flowery words and she’ll sort you out.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Adolin said.