Part 1
Unified Year 1890, Dragonpost
In the end all good things had to come to an end, Sergei supposed. Still, the Ashen Empire lasted a thousand years. He wasn't surprised by the collapse, only the speed. Finally free of duty, he wondered what he should do with himself. To be the legendary Spymaster General for a thousand years had given him little time to explore.
He had already said his good byes to the final Ashen Emperor, and been thanked for his service, so all that was left was figure out what to do with himself.
He lingered in the alley, leaning against a wall, as the rain continued to fall from above. Watching the endless bustle of Dragonpost, it was obviously how much the world had changed while he kept it together. Carriages without horses, light without flame, towers of glass and rune-iron climbing higher each year. All fascinating in its way, but hardly urgent. For the first time in centuries, nothing was. It was nice, in a way.
Whistling an ancient tune, he reached into his coat and withdrew a flat shard of crystal. Glyphs shimmered across its surface, rearranging into neat script and whispered voices. News, gossip, timetables. The petty sort of chatter he once weaponized. Now, he skimmed it just to find something to do.
One headline caught his eye: "The Legendary Spymaster General: Lecture Tonight at The University."
Sergei raised a brow. "Legendary, is it? How quaint." He slipped the crystal back into his pocket, chuckling. "Well, if they’re going to tell stories about me, I suppose I should attend. Wouldn't want them getting it all wrong. They got enough wrong about Rebecca."
He paused to check the time. Half-seven. The article said it was about to start. With a small smile, he vanished from sight.
He paused at the main gates of The University, and chuckled to himself. Fifteen hundred years and now nobody even dared to use the term anywhere else, for fear of being associated with it. He spotted the anti-vampire warding surrounding the gate and nearly laughed out loud. Ridiculously quaint and no match for the infamous Spymaster.
As he walked through the quad, he spotted the infamous God-Professor Neptis giving one of her sparring lessons to another batch of Blood Mages. Poor bastards, he thought to himself.
"You call that a parry?" Neptis shouted at the man splayed on the ground, as she stood over him, glowering.
Sergei moved on before Neptis could notice him. He thought so, at least. As he slipped into a shadow between buildings, he caught the faintest tilt of a head. Bad luck to get tangled up in Gods, less time he spent here the better.
Spotting the building he was looking for, he quietly ducked in. The hallways were bright and sterile, something he hated about modern architecture. Endless rune-strips hummed along the walls, casting every corner with merciless off-white light. Would it kill them to add some shadows? Whatever happened to atmospheric lighting? A man used to be able to vanish in a hallway with a step, nowadays you need to wear a damn lampshade. Kids these days, he muttered to himself.
When he reached the lecture hall, he was entirely unsurprised to find it standing room only. Guess a thousand years of myth would do that, he figured. Finding a spot at the back, he leaned against the wall, blending against what little shadows there were.