Chapter 14: Chapter 14: The Asara Bank

Chapter 14: The Asara Bank

Lily leaned forward, her emerald eyes catching his. “All right then, Gideon. Let’s say I am willing to part with them. Not because I must, but because I am curious what a gentleman like you would offer.”

His eyes gleamed with quiet triumph. He leaned also forward slightly, lowering his voice so that only she could hear. “If you would grant me the honor, Lysaria, perhaps we might take a short walk together. The Asara Bank keeps a branch here in Tiara, quite reputable. There we can complete our arrangement properly. It is safer to transfer funds in their halls, and I would prefer the boots to be stored under their protections while I remain in this city.”

Lily studied him. He was composed, dignified, yet the excitement ran beneath his words like current under still water. It was almost flattering, the way his voice sharpened whenever he looked at her. She tilted her head in thought, then gave a graceful nod. “Very well. Let us go.”

Gideon rose at once. He was spry for his age, his movements deliberate, and when he offered his arm, she accepted with the faintest of smiles. Together they crossed the lobby. The girl at the counter pretended not to stare, though her wide eyes followed every step.

Outside, the light struck hard across the cobbled street, the morning crowds already swelling. Carriages rattled over the stones, merchants called to one another as they hauled crates toward the richer quarters, and servants hurried past with baskets balanced on their hips.

It was still busy, but Lily found it easier to take everything in now that she was visible and her mind wasn’t so fuzzy anymore. She let her eyes roam, building a picture of the city the way she had always done in new places. The upper quarter of Tiara had a charm of its own. Rows of timber-framed houses leaned together above narrow lanes, their second stories jutting out over the street, flower boxes spilling bright colors from the windows. Slate roofs caught the sun in dark patches, and church spires rose above the huddled streets like watchtowers.

It almost reminded her of pictures she had seen on Earth. Fifteenth-century towns in Europe, romanticized in postcards and travel documentaries, the kind of streets she had once dreamed of walking herself. She had never made that trip, never set foot in Prague or Nuremberg or Rothenburg, though she had wanted to. And now, strangely enough, here she was, walking through the mirror of that dream, with cobblestones underfoot and painted shutters overhead.

Lily drew in a breath and allowed herself a faint smile. Gideon set an unhurried pace, and Lily matched it, her skirts brushing softly against her boots. “You spoke earlier of Tiara as the pearl of the north,” she remarked, her emerald eyes following the line of rooftops climbing the slope. “Yet you yourself are no local.”

“That is true,” he answered with the faintest smile. “My home lies in the capital of Burm, in Burma itself. Tiara is but a provincial jewel compared to the heart of the kingdom. Yet it holds its own charms.”

“Then what brings a collector such as you here?”

He chuckled, low in his chest. “Rumors, Lysaria. Whispers that the auction hall of Tiara will soon display pieces thought lost to history. I had no intention of missing such an opportunity. Imagine my surprise, then, when fortune placed you in my path. To discover an artifact of the Lost Era here, before I even reached the Exchange… already my journey is worth a hundredfold.”

Lily let his words wash over her, careful to keep her expression measured. His delight was genuine, but so was the hunger. She could almost taste the greed and reverence mingled in it. A man like Gideon would move mountains for another treasure. That made him valuable.

They walked on, the cobbles giving way to wider stone streets where the press of people thickened. Lily felt the weight of eyes sliding toward her. Men slowed their pace without realizing it, women glanced up from baskets of fruit, and here and there children stopped outright, pointing and whispering behind cupped hands. None dared to call out, but the curiosity hung in the air like smoke.

She ignored it with practiced calm. In her mind, she wasn’t simply walking through Tiara. She was performing. Lysaria Greenwood, the noble traveler, the mysterious elf. She was the actress, and the world was her stage. Or at least, that was what she told herself to explain why she didn’t feel the urge to panic under all those stares.

The truth was stranger. Something deep inside her had been steering her ever since she arrived. Not only with spells and skill knowledge appearing as if they were always hers, but also with her emotions. Whenever fear should have taken hold, or embarrassment threatened to unravel her mask, something steadied her. Even with her transformation, she felt more like Lilithia Nocturne, inhabiting the role with effortless poise—and, if she was honest, with a little bit of disgust at being an elf at all. A really strange feeling.

Her thoughts threatened to spiral further, but the noise ahead pulled her back. As they walked deeper into the city, following the stream of travelers, the road opened into a wide marketplace that pulsed with life. Stalls crowded every corner, their awnings stretched wide in splashes of bright color to shield goods from the sun. Baskets overflowed with fruit, strings of dried fish swayed gently in the breeze, bolts of cloth added stripes of dye to the scene, and trinkets glittered from wooden racks. Around the edges of the square, more permanent shops and low taverns leaned close together, their painted signs creaking on iron chains.

Beyond the crush of stalls, where the streets opened wider and the noise thinned, a stately building dominated the view. The branch of the Asara Bank rose above the market’s chaos, its clean stone facade and bronze crest standing in sharp contrast to the clutter around it. A disk stamped with a rising sun above a stack of coins gleamed above the doors, and Lily recognized it instantly.

The Asara banking system was a cross-continental network that originated in Pangrea but also had branches beyond its borders. In Xantia, players used it to transfer coins between cities at lightning speed, rent vaults for their belongings, and withdraw money or deposit it into accounts within seconds. Its true strength was convenience. Guild members could send each other money without ever meeting in person, and valuable items could be stored behind far stronger security measures than in a private home, especially if one planned to log off for a while. But most players' money rarely ended up in the bank. Why should it? Currency was one of the few things that was never lost when a player killed you. Everyone carried their wealth with them. Safes and accounts were luxuries for guild coffers or collectors of rare loot, not necessities.

Of course, the big guilds always had accounts. They needed them to manage the flood of contributions and payouts for their members. And that thought raised another question in Lily’s mind. What about her guild account? They had registered it at the Asara branch in the capital of the Xares Empire. If this was not just a similar world like Xantia but the same world somehow, then the account should still exist.

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Except… centuries must have passed since then. Hundreds of years. Could such an account still be active after so much time?

The idea made her pulse quicken.

The Tiara branch was built like a fortress dressed as a palace. White stone walls climbed three stories; their corners braced with carved columns that rose toward an ornate cornice. The doors were tall oak bound in iron, polished to a shine, and the bronze crest above them gleamed like a sun of its own. A pair of guards flanked the entrance, halberds at their sides, their blue tabards immaculate. Above the lintel, an inscription in clean runes promised safety, discretion, and honor in trade.

Gideon’s lips curled faintly upward. “Here we are, Lysaria. The very heart of coin.”

The crowd thinned at the bank’s steps. Ordinary townsfolk kept their distance, leaving only the richer merchants, couriers, and clerks to come and go. The steps had been worn smooth by countless boots, yet the marble still held its polish.

They ascended together. The guards shifted their grips slightly but did not bar the way. Gideon inclined his head to them as if to old acquaintances, and they answered with the smallest of nods. Lily followed his lead, her expression serene, emerald eyes drinking in every detail.

Inside, the change was immediate. The air cooled, touched with the faint tang of ink and wax. A vaulted ceiling arched high overhead, chandeliers hanging like cages of light. Rows of polished counters stretched across the marble floor, behind which clerks in dark uniforms scribbled into ledgers and weighed coins on brass scales. The quiet murmur of transactions filled the hall, punctuated by the faint clink of coin against metal.

A junior clerk, crisp in his Asara livery, stepped forward with a practiced bow. “Master Vexley.” His tone carried the ease of recognition, as though Gideon had visited often since arriving in Tiara. Then the clerk’s eyes shifted, lingering briefly on Lily’s face and the fine cut of her dress. He straightened a little more, voice careful. “And may I have the honor of your name, madam, so I may address you properly?”

His tone was formal, but the extra polish in his manner was impossible to miss. Not only was Gideon a respected client, but any elf in silks as fine as Lily’s clearly warranted the kind of discretion the bank prided itself on.

Lily inclined her head with practiced grace. “Lysaria Greenwood.”

The clerk repeated her name softly, committing it to memory, then turned back toward Gideon.

“I am here to conduct business with Lady Greenwood,” Gideon said, his voice carrying the calm authority of a man used to being obeyed. “She is a high-profile merchant of no small means, and the matter requires both discretion and proper testimony.”

That made the clerk pause. His eyes flicked back to Lily, studying her again, as if only now realizing that the fine dress, the elven bearing, and the weight of Gideon’s words all pointed in the same direction. The faintest hint of nervousness crossed his face before he bowed a little deeper.

“Of course,” he said quickly. “I will prepare an accountant to witness the transaction and ensure the transfer between accounts is handled according to protocol.” He hesitated, then glanced toward Lily with careful respect. “If I may ask, Lady Greenwood… do you already hold an account with the Asara Bank?”

The question hung in the air longer than it should have.

Lily hesitated, her mind flicking through possibilities at lightning speed. In Xantia, elves were long-lived—seven hundred, maybe even a thousand years if the lore was to be believed. So technically, it would not be strange for an elf to have an account that lay dormant for centuries. That could work.

But there were problems.

Her only personal account had been registered under her real in-game name: Lilithia Nocturne. To reveal that here would expose too much. She was not ready to show her true hand, and certainly not to admit she wasn’t just some wandering elf noble. So, her personal account was out of the question.

The second option was the guild account. But reactivating an account tied to a branch in the long-dead Xares Empire carried its own risks. Still… she could cover it. If it didn’t exist anymore, she could blame history itself. Hundreds of years had passed, after all. Who would expect continuity across a fallen empire?

Her gaze flicked inward, to the shimmer of her inventory. And there it was.

[Guildmaster’s Black Sigil Card]

A shard of obsidian glass, etched with golden runes that pulsed faintly like veins of fire. The crest shimmered across its surface, indistinct yet commanding, as though the guild itself were looking out from within. When she concentrated on it, a description popped out in her mind:

[Guildmaster’s Sigil Card Item Type: Guild Artifact – Bound Appearance: Black obsidian glass card with golden runes and crest.

Effects:

* Grants access to all guild facilities and vaults.

* Functions as official identification with banks, courts, and merchants.

* Emits a visible crest to prove guild authority.

* Soul-bound: Transfers only when Guildmaster changes.

“To carry the Sigil is to carry the guild itself.”]

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Well… here goes nothing.

With practiced calm she drew the card from her inventory and presented it, pinched lightly between two fingers. “I’ll use the official account of my guild.”

Both Gideon and the clerk gasped. Their reactions mirrored each other, sharp intakes of breath, eyes wide, then carefully schooled expressions.

Oh. Wrong choice? Lily thought, the faintest prickle of regret tightening her chest. Maybe I should have just opened a new account like a normal person. Too late now.

The clerk recovered, bowing deeper than before. He accepted the card with both hands, as though afraid it might burn him if he held it carelessly. “I… I will check the account at once, Lady Greenwood. A moment, please.”

The Sigil was soul-bound. No name, no race, no tidy little line to betray her. It was identity in itself, impossible to fake or forge. That was why she had dared to use it. At least that was what she told herself.

Her guild had been one of the top in the world. The crest engraved on that card should be known. She should not be ashamed of it. In fact… she should flaunt it. She should show these worms their place. Yes. It was only proper that they knew who they were standing in front of—

Lily froze. The thought rang in her mind like a bell struck wrong. That was not her. That was arrogance, creeping in like a sickness. Hubris. A dangerous slip. She clenched her jaw. What in the hell was this thought…? I need to tackle that later.

The clerk had retreated to a side desk. He placed the Sigil over a polished stone mounted on a brass frame. Its surface shimmered faintly, and his eyes unfocused, staring into something only he could see. A screen, Lily realized. Like her status window.

But something was wrong. The color drained from his face as he read whatever lines appeared before him. His knuckles whitened around the frame.

Before Lily could demand an answer, Gideon leaned toward her, filling the silence with smooth curiosity. “So, Lysaria. You are part of a guild, then? One of those merchant circles from the central continent, perhaps? Forgive me if I pry. I am simply intrigued.”

She turned back with a measured smile, masking the unease prickling along her spine. “Something like that, Gideon. Do not worry yourself.” Her eyes flicked briefly toward the clerk’s paling face. “I only hope I can access my account here in the boonies.”

Gideon, ever the perfect gentleman, had already recovered from his initial surprise. Whatever shock he had felt at the sight of the Sigil, it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same composed charm. He gave a low, amused chuckle.

“No worries, Lysaria,” he said, voice warm and steady. “In all my years I have never once heard of an Asara account being inaccessible. That is one of the reasons they can afford to be so outrageously expensive.”

His words carried a note of reassurance, but also of admiration. A subtle reminder that he had recognized the weight of what she had just revealed, and accepted it without question.

Lily allowed herself the faintest tilt of her head, as though she had expected no less. Inside, though, unease still prickled along her spine. The clerk was still staring at that invisible screen, pale as chalk, and she had the growing suspicion that her “outrageously expensive” account might be worth far more trouble than she had bargained for.