The first rays of spring sunshine cut through the smoke-filled air, bathing the room in a warm glow. The sunlight penetrated the window glass, ricocheting off the clockwork on the wall, which showed that it was almost half past seven. Their scheduled meeting had been at seven o'clock, but Raul had still not arrived. Liv paced in circles, attempting the one thing she struggled with most: patience. She knew that even if the inflexible half-gnome kept her waiting for hours, she would still be indebted to him. Absent-mindedly, she found herself touching the scar on her arm. The wound had been on the brink of sepsis when she had arrived in Norma. While most people would have perished from an infection as severe as Liv's, or even had their arm amputated, Raul had managed to secure the services of the most skilled healers, and Liv's resilience had brought her through. She was lucky to have come out of it with only a scar to remember the escape from Anland by. Raul made a point to remind her of it every time they met. 

"Now you’re strong again," he had said when she left her bed for the first time, two months after coming to Norma. "Now you’re strong again, thanks to me." Liv was glad to be alive, but felt uneasy because of the debt she owed Raul. 

As Liv listened, she heard clattering footsteps outside. The steps grew closer, sounding like a step-dancing performance. The door flung open, and Raul Wager appeared in the doorway. His high hat bobbed up and down as he strode into the room. His clothes were perfectly clean and pressed, leading Liv to believe an army of servants had spent hours attending to them. Raul Wager entered the room and carelessly dropped his walking stick on the floor before throwing himself into one of the leather armchairs. Liv followed suit and sat down next to him. In no time, a maid arrived bearing a tray filled with steaming tea and freshly baked cookies. The maid noticed the half-gnome's feet dangling above the floor and quickly placed a footstool under them. 

"Spring has arrived, how wonderful!" Raul exclaimed, squinting in the bright sunlight streaming through the window. He lifted his right hand to shield his eyes from the light. With his left hand, he poured steaming tea into two gleaming cups before popping a cookie into his mouth. 

"It's been a long winter, but it's finally over," he said between bites. 

Liv contemplated pointing out that winter in Norma was pale in comparison to the biting winter winds of Sommerfort. However, she decided against it and let the thought slip away. The half-gnome had already drained his teacup and was midway through his next sentence. 

"Despite the bone-chilling cold that forced the Thing to ration the grain supply, winter brings in booming business," he said, pausing to take a sip of his hot tea and a bite of another cookie. "It's the time of year when the people of Norma need money the most." 

Liv was about to speak up, but the half-gnome beat her to it. "Have you visited the bank?" he asked. 

Liv nodded. "Tristan took me there last month. Raul..." 

"I see the two of you are getting along," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Good. A pessimist and a grouch have much in common. The press and the gnomes who keep the money press rolling, did you see that too?" 

"It was the first place you brought me once I was strong enough to leave your guest house," Liv replied. 

"How did you find it?" Raul inquired. 

"The gnomes' money press is impressive," Liv admitted.

"When was that? The day before the first snow of winter, if I'm not mistaken." 

"Yes," Liv replied. 

"You've been here a long time, Liv," he sighed. "Yet, there is much left to see of this--what to call it?--this anthill of a city." "An anthill where the ants are not the least bit diligent and don't like each other. There is much more to see in other places, especially in the South. Many, many people live down there, though, and I'm not sure whether you would appreciate the crowds. The scrum at the market in Bengal is so intense that coins cover the ground. Nobody dares to pick them up for fear of being trampled to death."

Liv had to agree with him. After hearing his vivid description of the place, she definitely did not want to visit Bengal's market. Norma's streets were already unbearably crowded for her. The constant noise and movement left her feeling nauseous. After spending a day among the city's cold stone facades, she sometimes even longed for the night, when she could escape to the green forests of her dreams, despite the dangers lurking there. Liv yearned to return to the magnificent landscape around Mount Domedus, but she had no desire to revisit the gnome factory or the hostile village of Saint Rafael. 

Although the city left her feeling uneasy, she had decided to stay in Norma for the winter. There was something about Raul's hectic manner of speaking that made her feel special. He behaved as if the short moments of silence that sometimes occurred in conversations were dangerous. She doubted that he spoke to other people in that nearly comical manner, since he was one of the country’s mightiest and most feared men. It occurred to her that she had stopped listening to the half-gnome’s jabber, as usual, and made no attempt to catch up. 

Liv realized that she had tuned out the half-gnome's incessant jabber, as was her usual habit, with no effort to keep up. 

"Raul," she interrupted, "what am I doing here? Why do you provide me with shelter and money?" 

"If you had stayed in Anland, you would have lost one arm. But as you know, my healers, one an elf and the other a human, are the finest physicians imaginable." Raul paused, his countenance thoughtful. "Norma is much more welcoming to Beings and half-bloods than your homeland. Maybe I'd aid any half-blood in need. Perhaps I believe you'll make me richer, someday. Or perhaps I simply enjoy your company. It could be that I'm so wealthy that your lodging and allowance are insignificant to me." 

Raul shrugged. "You may decide whichever reason you prefer. The crucial point is that you're safer here than with those rebel elves in Anland. Did you happen to read yesterday's paper? There was an article about the troll cub."

"Why am I here?" Liv repeated, her voice was sharp, but trembled slightly. 

She had indeed been following the news. Around the time she left Anland, a boy threw a stone into the Dream Park's Troll Pit. One of the trolls retaliated by tossing it back and inadvertently striking a human child in the head. The boy's injury was minor, but his frightful reaction prompted his parents to threaten legal action against the park. Consequently, the park's management deemed the best course of action was to put the troll cub to death. Just last week, the boy's parents had brought him back to the Dream Park to confront his fears. Unfortunately, their efforts were in vain as the child immediately resumed throwing stones at the larger Beings. Then, the following morning, the boy and two of his friends vanished without a trace while playing in his family's backyard. According to rumors, the children were kidnapped by runaway gnomes from a secret factory. 

This caused panic to spread throughout Liv's home country, with no one feeling safe overnight. The people of Anland were divided into two factions: the paranoid commoners who saw danger lurking around every corner and those who saw the incident as an opportunity to blame the Beings for any mishap. In this morning's newspaper, an article detailed the brutal attack on two short Bengal merchants in Frostport who were nearly beaten to death and robbed of all their possessions. The perpetrators were eventually caught by the city guard, but their defense was that they mistook the merchants for gnomes. 

Liv couldn't help but feel a twinge of longing to fly back across the sea and stand up for Kaan. Yet with each passing day and every new rumor and newspaper article, she grew increasingly relieved that she had no involvement in the unfolding events in Anland. The incident involving the missing children was just one of many telltale signs that Leon and his rebels were growing in strength, boldness, and brutality. 

"Why must you always be so angry, Liv? It only serves to put people on their guard, and that accomplishes nothing," Raul said. "Several of us from the Thing may require your assistance at some point, but we can discuss that in the future. If you do not value the money I have given you, I will require you to work for it instead. Tristan will soon be entering the slum to begin his daily duties. Accompany him, and he will demonstrate our methods for conducting business on the opposite side of the river."

*

The slum lay between the old town, where Norma's affluent human population lived, and Aigne, a squalid suburb that was once a small village nestled among fertile farmland. Over the last few decades, it had been transformed into countless rows of factories and rising chimneys. The slum lay at the center of Aigne, where the poorest people, regardless of their race, resided. The slum was the only area in Norma where humans and Beings coexisted and was home to the city's half-bloods.

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Liv and Tristan zigzagged between shabby huts. At first glance, they all looked identical, but on closer inspection, Liv realized that every shed was unique. Their walls were constructed from unseen mixtures of building materials, ranging from turf and wood to rocks and plaster. A minuscule, two-story dwelling for gnomes was situated next to a similarly sized troll outhouse. Carvings adorned each front door, and buildings lacking proper doors covered their entrances with colorful curtains. Such details made all the difference, as they transformed the humble sheds from mere four brittle walls into proper homes. Liv soon lost her sense of direction and stayed close to Tristan, who navigated the maze of slums without difficulty.

Turning a corner, they stumbled upon a ring of newly awakened elves engaging in peculiar body movements. Tristan appeared ashamed by disrupting the Being's morning ritual and rushed forward, eyes trained on the muddy ground. Squeezing through a narrow passageway, they entered a cluster of putrid shades, where three corpulent trolls stumbled aimlessly in circles. The giant Beings let out breaths as strong as gusts of wind, carrying the stench of every imaginable cheap liquor. Though they kept their distance, Liv's stomach churned as she passed them. Behind her, one of the trolls let out a staggering howl and his two friends crumpled to the ground, howling with uncontrollable laughter. 

"He's singing," Tristan explained, "a hilarious ballad the trolls around here often croon." "Trolls have a terrible sense of humor," he added, observing the amazed expression on her face. "They find the lyrics entertaining, but the ballad is vulgar and lacks finesse in every aspect." 

The two half-elves halted outside a narrow brick house that Liv suspected had once been the wide chimney stack of a much larger building. Within, a woman served lukewarm vegetable soup to passersby in clay cups through a hole. Despite her gray hair and wrinkled face, the woman's beauty was undeniable. She recognized Tristan and presented him with a filthy bag containing even filthier coins. In exchange, the half-elf produced a bundle of paper money and gave it to her. Tristan paid for two servings of soup with two hexagonal coins he carried and urged Liv to eat. She stirred the yellow liquid, sniffed the steam, and frowned in uncertainty. 

"Eat" Tristan encouraged her. "This is excellent food. In the slum, it's best to stick to meals cooked by elves and gnomes. You can eat fish caught by naiads, but it must be boiled completely. Never eat anything that has been touched by a troll."

Tristan was right. The soup they had ordered was filling and richly seasoned with herbs, which left a delightful taste in their mouths. They slurped on their soup in silence before handing the woman their empty cups. As they turned to leave, a group of unkempt human children had gathered around them. The children yanked at Tristan's clothes and begged for money to buy food. Liv struggled to understand their heavy southern accent and tried her best to disregard them. Tristan feigned irritation, but soon burst into laughter and sprinted after the ragged children. He refrained from touching them, treating them like cuddly, flea-infested alley dogs. Nevertheless, he relished in playing with the youngsters who shrieked with delight as he playfully told them to keep their distance. As soon as the children vanished into the distance, Tristan's demeanor turned glum. His face, once rife with laughter, now bore the mask of melancholia. 

"You and I are doomed to loneliness," he said in a low voice. "Saying so doesn’t make me a pessimist, which I know Raul calls me. I’m a realist, and the truth is that the blood in our veins won’t mix with anyone’s. Not humans, not elves, nor anything in between." 

Liv's thoughts were transported to the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of Sommerfort, where she and Shannon would often give alms to children in rags. Several weeks after the fever had receded from her, Liv finally mustered the courage to write a letter to her father. The words came to her with difficulty as she explained briefly that she was well and secure, urging him not to worry. The note was sent by one of Raul's couriers, who had traveled many miles east of Norma to post it. Liv was worried that Shannon would somehow discover her location, but wished that he could somehow send a reply. 

The day after she sent the letter, Raul forced her to meet an inquisitive elf named Klom. The old elf was insistent on discovering every detail about Liv's dreams and the elven abilities she inherited from her mother. Despite her reluctance to reveal anything, Klom persisted and began discussing how certain elves were capable of drawing humans into their dreams. The ability to lure humans into dreams was an uncommon talent usually reserved for nefarious purposes such as blackmail, or to provide pleasant dreams for a fee of silver coins. Liv had since searched for people in her dreams. At first, she searched for Shannon, with little success, then she went looking for Kaan instead. One night, she believed she glimpsed him far into the forest.

"We are not allowed to give human beggars money," Tristan said and pulled her back to reality. The children ran away, calling them demeaning names. "Remember that. If you do, you’ll be in Raul’s disfavor."

They carried on through the slum for hours, exchanging coins for coins. Some Beings scurried away when they caught a glimpse of Tristan, and others begged him for paper money. However, the half-elf dismissed all of them as if they were merely obstacles on the street. Liv witnessed thousands of new impressions as they walked through the slum. Rich men and criminals, gnomes, maids, ruffians, and factory trolls all hurried by, heading to work in other parts of town. Meanwhile, children of all species were making their way down to the river and across to the old town, where they begged and stole. Naiads, with pieces of trash stuck in their hair, splashed through a brown creek and climbed up onto the wharf next to a market. There, they sold goods that had been flushed up on the river shore to men in colorful clothes, some of whom were even walking a tiger on a leash. 

Liv had wanted to go on a journey to the mainland all her life, but Shannon had never allowed it. In his opinion, travelling was dangerous and inconvenient. Now that Liv was in Norma, she found the city to be much larger than she had expected. She realized how unimportant Sommerfort was in the grand scheme of things and began to appreciate her own insignificance. 

While she knew she was entering a strange new world, she slowly started to understand the city in its entirety. Despite its poverty and hustle, it was home to many bright moments. Couples could freely hold hands and people on the street smiled at foreigners passing by. Inside a doorless shed, a human woman cradled a baby elfling against her bosom, singing lullabies and rocking it with the tenderness reserved for children they truly loved. 

Their final destination for the day was a basement located in a wide stone building, situated at the boundary separating the slum from a more advanced industrial area. The atmosphere below was somber and stuffy, and a colossal oven stood at the center of the floor. A bearded man was hammering furiously at a rudimentary sword-shaped object. Liv had visited Sommerfort's forges before and strongly believed that the piece of metal should have been much hotter and glowing to make it workable. However, she decided against interrupting the smith as he changed money with the half-elf. 

Tristan spoke, "Both men and beings alike wish to do business with Raul." They climbed up the stairs into the warm afternoon sun and made their way towards the river with brisk steps. His coat hung heavily on his shoulders, and the sound of rattling coins echoed with his every move. However, he was not afraid of robbers or pickpockets. As they walked, sporadic cobblestones emerged from the muddy ground beneath their feet. The cobblestones became denser as they walked down the final slope towards the river. When they arrived at the bridge, the dirt road transformed into a proper street covered by flat stone slabs. In this area, humans walked with clean shoes and coaches rolled by without shaking. They followed a boulevard that was surrounded by shining buildings with fabulous architecture and sculptured facades. The kind of architecture that made every schoolgirl and art lover in Anland dream of Norma. 

"The rich families also engage in business with Raul, but he won't involve me in those deals," explained Tristan. "I handle the countless small transactions, but it feels good to visit the heart of his empire every once in a while. It reminds me that what I'm doing is far more significant than just collecting coins from the lowest of low-lifes. Ah, here we are." 

They halted outside two grand glass doors that were taller than the largest sheds in the slums, so blank that it was hard to tell that they were even there. Behind them, lay a hollow hall with four square pillars supporting the far-reaching roof. Tristan strode across the room, barely taking note of his surroundings, and made his way to a dimly lit corner of the space. He entered a small room, where he found a short, bald man sitting behind a desk that was buried under a mass of paperwork. The man had circular glasses perched on the tip of his nose, which gave the impression that they might float away at any moment. He greeted Tristan in the polite manner well-educated people show their disinterest. Then his eyes fell upon Liv, and he smiled in a way that only a refined individual could to a young woman of great beauty. The man accepted the coins in exchange for their money bags, locating a green strongbox in the midst of the clutter on his desk. With care, he arranged the coins in neat rows, using a piece of paper to keep count by drawing lines. 

"He’ll lock the money in the basement vault later, but we are not allowed down there," said Tristan. "Few people are."

"Raul puts a lot of trust in you, though," said Liv, "letting you handle his money."

"With money, I can eat myself full and buy a bottle to enliven me. I need it to pay rent and have a roof over my head, but Raul knows money is not what I really desire. He knows me better than anyone, I think, though we never talk about anything except business. Did I tell you that he put me on my feet after I left prison? He prevented me from becoming another forgotten half-blood in the gutter. But I’m not special. I’m not the first half-blood to work for him, nor the last. That he gives you insight into the foundation of his wealth fascinates me more. You, who come from Anland, a country he despises."

Realizing that Liv had nothing to contribute, he lapsed into silence. The only sound for some time was the soft jingling of coins as they flowed through the man's fingers. 

"If it's not money, what is it you truly desire?" she finally asked. "What do you want out of life?" 

Tristan gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders in response. "I used to dream of all the things my mother promised me as a child, but as I've grown older, those fantasies have faded away," he began. "Nowadays, I'm content with not knowing what I want out of life. What about you?" 

After a moment of reflection, she replied with an unconvincing answer that she herself was unsure was valid. "Change. That's what I want."