When Kaius pushed his way out of the Collective, he could still hear the chaos of over a dozen mages and runewrights shouting over each other. No doubt they were fighting for a chance to get a look at the single notebook he had left detailing Imperial runework.

Kenva and Porkchop were waiting for them close by, under the shade of the massive tree that dominated the Workingman’s Plaza.

“That was cruel,” Ianmus said, chuckling as they walked over to their team.

“Maybe, but it was pretty funny — not like I could have told them anything more, anyway.”

“What’d he do this time?” Kenva asked, raising her brows at Kaius.

He grinned right back at her. “Dumped my notes on imperial runework on their desk all of five seconds before we left.”

“Maybe you should steer clear for a month or two, just so they don’t tie you up in the basement,” Porkchop replied, chuckling.

That was the plan — he wanted to spread the knowledge he’d acquired, but he didn’t have the time to spend months or years assisting researchers. Even if it helped him eventually puzzle out the secrets of the Vesryn script, that had very little bearing on his actual strength. Spending a year to maybe design another first tier spell was a bit of a waste when that same time could be spent on leveling.

He wasn’t even twenty one yet! He likely had centuries to work on this sort of thing. Tracking down his father’s sword and finishing the Integration was far more important — and right now, he was much more interested in finding a place to sleep than entertaining excited researchers.

“How’d your hunt go? You said you managed to find somewhere?”

Porkchop’s muzzle wrinkled in distaste as he let out a low growl. “The people of this city have no sense.”

“Oh?” 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Kenva patted Porkchop on the shoulder. “He wouldn’t even fit through the front door for half of the places, and the other half outright refused him entry.”

“Blatant prejudice! They acted like I was going to shit on the floor!”

They what? What the hells had happened? Though, judging by the way Kenva was biting her cheek, there was a little more to the story.

“It was one innkeeper — and I'm pretty sure he was just an asshole. Tried to get into my pants three times in five minutes. Everyone else was pretty apologetic once they realised he was a greater beast.”

Kaius’s frown deepened — that was supposed to make him feel better? Kenva could look after herself, but it still didn’t sit right with him.

“You’re okay?” he asked, just to be sure.

Kenva snorted. “I’m fine — the only reason it doesn’t happen more often is most lose their gall when a meatbrick and beanpole have to stoop to walk in the front door after me. A little Authority shut him up.”

“I also threatened to eat him.”

“That too,” Kenva said, nodding sagely.

That was something at least. Although, he was starting to question if any of them could be trusted not to cause a scene. Maybe Ianmus.

“You did find somewhere in the end, though?” Ianmus asked. “You did say we were in a rush.”

“I did, and we should get moving,” Kenva replied, gesturing toward a street half way down the Plaza.

They set off, cutting their way in the direction the ranger had shown.

“After the fifth place that said Porkchop wouldn’t fit up the stairs, or that he’d fall through the ceiling, the name of a place kept coming up. The Ruby Crown, on the far side of the Bramton borough. It’s supposedly the fanciest place in Baanswell. Every innkeep said the same thing — it’s luxurious, they’ll make almost any request work, and it’ll cost a noble’s ransom for us to stay there. Hence why I tried to find alternatives.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” he replied, shrugging.

He had more money than he knew what to do with, and honestly, a little luxury didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. He done his hard yards of sleeping in ditches and drinking from puddles, there was nothing wrong with silk sheets and down pillows every now and then.

Besides, how much could an inn really cost?

….

They seemed to have made a wrong turn somewhere. Bramton had started normal. Immediately close to the Plaza, it had been almost like a fancier, cleaner version of the Delvers quarter in Deadacre. That had changed the closer they got to the Duke’s palace that rose high in the central hill of the city.

Side-eying a cobbler that was advertising drakeskin boots for the devilish steal of three hundred gold, Kaius decided that he’d walked into some sort of shrine to opulence. Maybe a cult had taken over, spouting righteous prayers that they must not just have money, but flaunt it.

The Plaza had been grand, but in an understandable way. Imposing, due to the scale of the thing, and the size of the monstrous tree that shaded it. Sure, the buildings had been beautiful, with their glazed brick and artfully carved masonry, but it hadn’t been opulent. Stately, maybe, but not…excessive.

Unlawfully taken from novelbuddy, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He barely had a mind for the growing sound of a crowd, far more interested in an armourer that had a dozen blades hanging in his window, each laminated with gold. It was almost worse that the smithing looked quality — it was such a waste. A weapon like that could never hold an edge, and you’d be shedding money with every swing. Let alone the egg sized gems in their pommels. Judging by the faint shine of mana, they were enchanted to catch attention — the only enchantments the blades had, mind you — because he couldn’t think of any other reason Truesight kept acting up when he looked at them. Sounded like the perfect thing to make sure everyone was focused on gutting you first, but what did he know?

Kaius scoffed in disgust, tearing himself away from the sight. It took all of five seconds for him to find another fascination. This time, richly dyed rugs that were woven into geometric patterns. They lined the walls of the shop, with small mountains of rolls piled all over the place. The smallest was maybe one by two strides.

It cost five platinum.

Why?!

A strangled sound escaped his throat. Tearing his eyes away, Kaius resolved to simply stare at his boots.

The second he did, the sound of a crowd snapped into focus.

“Looks like we were too slow,” Porkchop huffed as they rounded a corner.

Looking up, Kaius saw that the entire road had been blocked by a heaving mass of bodies at the end of the next block. Past them, he saw a line of raised halberds. City guards, walling people off from the street.

“No way around it?” he hedged — though he didn’t feel confident.

Kenva shook her head. “Not unless we want to spend another hour circling around— we’re going to have to wait this one out. From what I've heard, the guards are moving a good ten or so blocks ahead and behind the actual procession. Shouldn’t take more than half an hour for the bubble to pass.”

Kaius sighed, that was something at least.

To his surprise, Ianmus actually looked interested. He gave the mage a look.

“What? You aren’t the least bit curious about the team who might have matched some of our feats?”

“Fine,” Kaius sighed. “Let’s go see the competition."

Walking down the street, the crowd parted as they approached. All it took was one look at Porkchop, and the silk-draped fools went white, backing out of their path. Once they’d made their way through, a guard barred their way onto the row. He lost his bored expression the second they arrived, spine straightening as he watched them nervously.

It took minutes for the procession to arrive. A dozen ladies in bright yellow dresses walked at the head of the group, hurling plucked red flowers into the crowd. They were followed by porters, each pushing oversized carts full of roses, poppies, tulips, and dahlias. Behind them was an honour guard, an entire contingent of men dressed in red-enameled lightplate, and holding the Duke of Flowers’ banner.

Then there was the palanquin. Maroon varnished wood, inset in mother of pearl. Four men stood on top, watching the crowd with dispassionate eyes and wide smiles. Lord Kel was at the front left. Next to him was a blonde haired man that had to be almost as tall as Kaius, and was wearing a blood red heavy plate. Clean shaven, with oiled hair, he looked the picture of heroism — it must have been Julian — the Marquess of Traxling.

They felt strong, their auras on full display. They were tougher than normal. Dense. Before he could even debate the wisdom of analysing them, Lord Kel’s eyes locked on his own.

To his surprise, he sensed nothing but muted curiosity on the man’s face. A heart beat later, the man turned to his party leader, whispering in his ear.

Then Kaius had the son of the duke's attention as well. The marquess looked calculating — like he was evaluating how much he could profit from them.

The man whispered something, and Kaius had to stop himself from jolting when he heard the Marquess as clear as day.

“Consider my surprise when Lord Kel mentioned he’d had a run in with the Heroes of Deadacre. I must apologise that he didn’t recognise you — he was in such a rush.”

A Skill, or maybe an artefact, it had to be. Judging by the sharp looks of surprise that he got from his team, they heard the man too.

“I will hear you if you speak, oh hero.” the Marquess said, his plastered smile shining just a hair more real for a moment. “What brings you to my fairest of cities?”

“Anthrast library, and a much needed break, Marquess Flowers.” Kaius muttered, doing his best to be polite — he didn’t need more powerful enemies, and Nobles weren’t exactly known for their reasonable disposition.

“A fine endeavour,” the Marquess replied, turning away from him to wave at the other side of the crowd. “You should have announced you were coming — I do love an excuse for a good parade.”

“I must admit that I am a man who likes his peace, though I now realise I perhaps should have sent word ahead,” Kaius replied.

The Marquess froze, just for a moment, but Kaius noticed immediately.

“No honorifics, I see

— no matter, what is a trifling thing such as titles between peers of supremacy? I must insist on inviting you round for tea, we have much to discuss. I didn’t expect to trade notes on embodiment so soon, let alone with ones who have been so…thorough.”

Kaius stiffened, his eyes locked on the Marquesses back. The man had embodied? He could feel none of the weight or pressure of Authority coming from the man. Suppressing it so must have taken an ungodly amount of will — or perhaps they had only managed to embody one of their Aspects.

More importantly, had they been to a Crucible? He wasn’t going to ask — no need to overplay their hand if they hadn’t.

“Surprised you, did I?” The Marquess replied, still smiling and waving to the crowds from atop his palanquin. “We haven’t announced it publicly, but it is clear to me you have done the same. Lord Kel’s retainers were quite…evocative with their descriptions of your aura, and now you are in front of me, I can feel it for myself. I am most curious how you seized it for yourself, and how such talents appear out of thin air. I’ll send a missive in the coming days.”

There was no question, or polite inquiry to Marquess Flowers’ words — just a firm faith and certainty that he would be obeyed. It threaded Kaius with tension, tightening his jaw as he did his best not to scoff.

He didn’t know whether to feel glib that he had something over the man, or dread the fact he had something the duke’s son so clearly wanted. He settled on keeping his reply short.

“As you say, Lord Flowers,” Kaius replied.

The man turned back his way and flashed him a satisfied grin, but said nothing else. Within a minute, the procession had passed them, and the crowd had begun to thin as onlookers flowed after the victorious party of nobles.

“I’m beginning to see why everyone seems to hate nobles,” Porkchop huffed, taking a seat as they waited for their path forward to clear.

Kaius just shook his head — the sooner they could find their lodgings, the better.