For as chaotic and crude as the Zones were, Waldaun itself had been immaculately built. Younger than many of its residents, it was specifically designed to be as organized as possible; from its surrounding wall, a perfect square, to its roads, a perfect grid, to its districts, perfectly segmented. Fountains were equidistant to one another, street lanterns exactly parallel. Even the heights of buildings and the colors of streets were precisely picked and carefully coordinated.

The architects and engineers left no detail overlooked. The day they completed their work, the city stood as a faultless display of human engineering.

Today, having spent a few decades housing humans, that perfection had waned. They’d added sections to the wall, paved new roads, raised new structures, built the waterways, and slabbed all manner of colors all over the place. The once uniform, caramel city now hosted mismatched neighborhoods and a menagerie of pigments.

Not everything had altered, though. While some residential districts were torn down to build towers and others turned into hybrids, the general layout of many districts remained unchanged. So while Waldaun could no longer be called perfect, sometimes it still retained an air of eerie exactness.

Kaiz could feel it now as he wandered into an unfamiliar district. District 39, to be specific. It was a production district, largely focused on metallurgy from what he could tell. He’d passed a host of forges and refineries during his walk. The same forges and refineries. A few had signs or some colorful decoration to set them apart, but many looked like exact replicas of each other.

He consulted his directions. According to the miniature map he’d been given, he hadn’t missed a step. Even though the workshop on the corner, next to the warehouse, across from the parking lot, behind the adjacent street lanterns, looked indistinguishable from the one he crossed nine minutes ago, it was different. Supposedly.

One way to find out.

He crossed the street, dashing through stopped traffic, and walked up to the building. There were no notable signs or demarcations. It seemed like the standard two-storey, maroon bricked workshop. On closer inspection, he did notice two tinted windows on the second floor, however. His instructions didn’t make mention of them, but he took note. If this was the correct place, they would serve as an easy identifier.

A dozen seconds passed as he surveyed the building, looking for anything unusual, but there was nothing else out of the ordinary. At least not that he could tell. He’d have to double check the other workshop on his way back, but first he had to finish his business here.

He took a sharp breath, straightened up, and knocked. A light knock, too light apparently. Nothing happened. He heard neither a call nor anyone approaching the door. He knocked again, a bit harder. No response still. He knocked thrice and for the third time he went unaddressed. After five full minutes of knocking and waiting, he rang the doorbell instead. Almost instantly, a woman responded.

She had a gruff voice, if a meek tone, “What do you want? We’ve paid our due.”

Sound transmission?

Kaiz raised an eyebrow, “I’m not here to collect anything. I’m here to drop off a letter.”

“A letter? You one of Viz people?”

His eyebrow fell back down, but then immediately raised again.

Why does she sound so annoyed…

He hesitated for a moment, “Yes.. he sent me to hand it to you.”

The door flung open, releasing a respectfully tall and uncomfortably wide man on to the street. Kaiz’s other eyebrow rose at his appearance. The man was a tanlar. A tanlar that had the build of a hardened soldier. His boyish face screamed innocence and naivety, but Kaiz didn’t fall for those features. His eyes sang a different tune.

He looked down at Kaiz and extended his hand. Kaiz’s pupils shifted between his open palm and lapis blue eyes. This didn’t feel right to him. The annoyance in her voice concerned him to begin with, but then she sent an untitled to fetch the letter? An untitled that stared like he’d never seen a smile before? Kaiz couldn’t help but feel like something was amiss.

The woman did not care for Kaiz's feelings, “What are you waiting for! Hurry up, we have work to do.”

Despite his misgivings, in the end his instructions were clear and simple. Find the workshop, hand over the letter, and leave. So, he did just that. If there was a mistake somewhere, Viz could complain to himself. And get someone else to run his errands while he’s at it.

Six weeks had passed since Kaiz locked himself up in his home. He would have liked to wait until Low Sun before re-emerging, but Viz had barged in and practically begged him to run a few errands. Kaiz wanted to say no, but, in truth, his experimentation hadn’t progressed in the least during that time and training wasn’t helping take his mind off it. Some new research material would do him good, so he might as well kill two geckos with one stone.

Now, in the very same district he robbed on his last job, Kaiz walked around as a would-be customer.

Of the three major inner marketplaces, District 7 had the largest. Unlike the other two, District 7 had a waterway terminal, bordered the outer wall, and was otherwise surrounded by residential districts. Its convenient, easy-to-access location made it the most populated of the markets by far.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

That increased traffic didn’t translate to increased affluence, though. It was most certainly a layman's market. The majority of the consumers didn’t have ten darkgold to their name, whether they were titleds or tanlars, and the shops reflected that. They sold much cheaper goods than the other two.

Practicality was the name of the game, luxury was scarcely spotted. It wasn’t as scanty as the wallmarkets that operated outside the walls, but it wasn’t too far from them either. With the notable exceptions of weapons and armor.

The entire marketplace had been founded on the backs of mercenaries and adventurers buying and selling gear, and that part of its history lived on. Excluding items of the highest quality, District 7 had every type of equipment a person could possibly need.

“Gloves? You crazy, kid?” The old man serving as clerk looked at him like a fool, “You’re in the wrong place if you’re looking for nonsense like that.”

Kaiz brushed it off, “Where can I find some then?”

He looked at Kaiz even more dumbfounded, “You don’t know?”

I wouldn’t be asking you if I did..

“I do not. I’ve bought armor here before, I wasn’t aware that gloves weren’t available.”

The clerk scoffed, “Gloves aren’t armor, they’re fashion. Noble’s fashion.”

Kaiz raised his hand to show the obvious glove on the obvious non-noble.

The clerk just rolled his eyes, “Enchanted gloves, you fool. I swear you academics. As if you need a book in hand to have sense.”

An annoyed sigh slipped for Kaiz. He wore one of the academy’s uniforms, something he pilfered years back, so he expected the assumption, but the clerk’s attitude overall rubbed him the wrong way.

“I’m not asking for enchanted gloves, I’m asking for reinforced gloves.” He took a dagger out of his satchel and jabbed his palm, “These are stab proof.”

“They’re poke proof. That flabby thing isn’t stopping a real stab. You’re better off getting a gauntlet, we sell those.”

Kaiz was done trying.

Welp. Sorry Viz can’t d—

“Oh. Kaizer!”

“Hmm?”

Kaiz turned to see Josslyn, glowing excessively red, hurling towards him. She moved much quicker than anyone over seven feet tall and almost two hundred kilograms should have. Kaiz only had the briefest moment to react and he foolishly spent it in shock rather than in action. A bear hug was his reward.

His elbows smashed into his body, trying to meet with one another. The mass of meat and bones in the way was of little consequence in their joining.

“Ah! My ribs! My ribs!” He bellowed in pain.

“You’ve been slacking in your training.” She shook her head as she released him, “What did I tell you?”

Kaiz, too busy coughing his lungs out, didn’t reply.

“Knowledge is good, practice is better.”

“I haven’t be—” He coughed again—” Slacking. You caught me off guard.”

She patted his back to help with the coughing, “Caught you off guard? You’re in the middle of my store! Your excuses are rusty as well. Shame.”

Kaiz clung to the side of a display case. His ribcage hurt in every direction. He knew nothing broke, but that was no solace. Images of a time where bruised skin and recently broken bones were all he knew flashed into his mind. The shivers that followed felt more like muscle spasms. They very well might have been.

“It’s good to see you Kaizer.” Her smile was genuine and warm.

Kaiz almost felt bad for avoiding her. Almost. Her earlier attempt at killing him stunted that particular line of thought. Her propensity for aggression would never be missed.

My ribs..

Even though he dedicated the bulk of his brain power to complaining about the pain, he didn’t fail to notice Lyn was exceptionally dressed. She had long been grossly rich and disgustingly powerful, but that rarely translated to her clothing. She wore high-quality armor of course, but never high-quality cashmere. Yet today she was dripped in the most expensive clothes he’d ever seen her wear.

A beautiful, flowing green gown, pristine white gloves, a rose gold necklace with bright red rubies, and a cashmere scarf. She looked stunning. It was all enchanted too.

She even combed her unruly brown hair and packed it into a bun. Her fierce, toned features hadn’t disappeared, nothing could hide the fact her face looked more chiseled than a statue, but they were remarkably muted. She looked less like the war goddess he knew and more like...no, she still looked like a war goddess. A royal war goddess, maybe?

“This is perfect timing!” She clapped, “I’m taking some new recruits to the Screaming Sands soon. You can come with.”

His eyes grew wide in panic.

No, no nonono. Gods, please no.

“I, uh, can’t.” Kaiz quickly came up with an excuse, “I’m working on a special project. That has a deadline. And. I have partners. I can’t just leave them behind.”

“Oh…” Her pout was as cold as her smile was warm, “When’s the deadline?”

It wasn’t enough to make Kaiz waver though, “At the start of Low Sun.”

“Hmm.” She contemplated for a moment. “We’d have to wait until its over, but that isn’t too far away. I prefer High Sun anyway.” The smile returned, “We can make that work!”

What?! No! Leave me be woman!

“No, no, no. I would never ask that of you. I’m sure you’ve spent months planning that. And what about the recruits? They’ve been waiting for this opportunity their whole lives. I wouldn’t want to ruin that just so I could attend.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You were the first calf I ever trained. You know how important firsts are to a lady.” Her smile was a bit devious this time.

Kaiz’s brain scrambled for a solution. Any solution.

Think, you must think!

He ran through every combination of lies he could. Damn the consequences.

There were few things worse than training under the Emerald Javelin. When they first met, he was desperate, ready to do anything to get stronger. It was under her tutelage that he realized calling starvation ‘painful’ was a gross misuse of the word. He was eternally grateful for everything she taught him, but he’d be damned if he did it again.

And damned he seemed to be.

She patted his back again, “It’ll be nice to catch up. You diss—”

Kaiz heard nothing. He’d collapsed.