Chapter 857 — Befriending Dragons
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
The rising sun bathed the land, and the city that had slept through the night slowly awakened. Sunlight tinged with pale gold and a thread of bright red swept slantwise across the undulating rim of the Dark Mountains, casting a vast and splendid interplay of light and shadow over the plains and hills. The boundary between light and dark crept steadily up to the highest tower of the Imperial Academy, and at that very moment a deep, solemn bell rang out.
Magic-driven mechanisms set the gears and levers within the tower turning; creaking bearings drew the chains of forged steel; the counterweight swung within the belfry, and peals of bells spilled outward in waves. The Imperial Academy woke first, and then, by degrees, the streets and plazas around it, the houses and the shops...
Bells rang out from several bell towers across the city, and soon, distinct from the bells, a crisper and more hurried sound appeared in the streets and alleys.
Boys in felt caps and short jackets, along with young men, set out from post offices and newspaper distribution points scattered across the city, riding the "two-wheelers" that had grown ever more popular in Cecil of late through every street. Those crisp bicycle bells were the second "alarm clock" to wake the city of Xuanque.
They were the newsboys and postmen of Xuanque. In most of Cecil's modern cities, the day's life for the citizens essentially began with the crisp bicycle bells of these newsboys and postmen.
Sir Golosh had put on plain clothes, and together with Asharena, likewise plainly dressed, he walked the streets of this foreign city. In the morning light they watched a whole city awaken from slumber, buildings and residents utterly unlike those of Dragon's Rest surrounding the two dragonborn.
"There's a book in the room where I'm staying now that describes the cities of Xuanque like this—the morning of Xuanyao City wakes to the 'sounds' of modern industry: mechanically driven bells, the bells of two-wheelers, the horns of public magic-carriages..." Sir Golosh said offhandedly. "And now it seems only seeing it with my own eyes lets me understand what those sentences mean."
"The human world in my memory was never this prosperous and... fast," Asharena said with a shake of her head. "Of course, the way it feels now isn't bad either."
A crisp, somewhat childish voice came from beside them, interrupting the two dragonborn's conversation: "Sir, ma'am, would you like a newspaper? The latest news, the most interesting stories! Only two Aiers! Two copies for just three!"
Sir Golosh turned and saw a boy in a dark blue plaid coat standing before him, a beaming smile on his face, his eyes large and bright, the big satchel at his waist stuffed full of newspapers.
Ah, another "Cecilian sight" that could be seen nowhere else.
The knight laughed and could not resist asking casually, "What's the biggest news?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Sir Golosh's eyes; he was briefly taken aback, and beside him Asharena had already produced two coins—Cecil's new currency. She held them out with a smile: "One newspaper, handsome young man."
"Thank you, ma'am~"
The newsboy ran off. Asharena, as though showing off a trophy, waved the newspaper—still carrying the fresh scent of ink—before Golosh's eyes, a smile on her face: "Now we're all part of the news, Sir Knight."
"...What was that word you used just now? Ah, 'fast,'" Golosh said, his expression caught between laughing and crying. He spread his hands and let his gaze sweep over the newspaper. "It only happened yesterday... and now even the children know."