Moonlight pierced through missing tiles of the once-abandoned townhouse, now home to the less fortunate of Saner. The walls were bare as ever, and within them, little more than makeshift bedrolls and burlap sacks were scattered about the meager living space, containing all their worldly possessions.

“You came up from the Scarworld?” A thin, long-nosed man said, then turned to Lexi. “You’ve really brought home an interesting fellow this time. Perhaps he could earn coin telling tales as a bard, though you’d need a gullible audience.”

Earon forced a smile. He didn’t particularly care if anyone believed him, in fact, it might have been for the best if they didn’t.

“Well, how do you explain him appearing from the imperial catacombs?” Lexi retorted, a starry glimmer in her eyes.

“How should I know? I don't go wagging my nose around places like that." Niks huffed and crossed his arms. "And you forgot to mention Pedar, what exactly happened to him? I thought you two were working together?”

Lexi shook her head and looked away. “I could care less about Pedar.”

“But you two were..."

“Just drop it, Niks” Lexi turned to glare at the man down.

“Whatever,” he said with a dismissive wave and got up. "Tell your stories elsewhere," Niks grumbled as he disappeared into another section of the dilapidated, squatter home.

“Sorry about that. People can get protective around here, in their own weird way.” Lexi smiled wistfully. “We get used to not relying on outsiders.”

Nodding, Earon placed a hand on Lexi’s shoulder. He wasn’t the best at comforting people, but there was something about Lexi he found inviting that made him want to try. She was clearly guarded, but also open in a way he wasn’t used to. Perhaps due to the sense of longing, she gave off.

“It’s fine. And I don’t expect anyone to believe my story, nor do I care. It was mostly just an explanation for you.” Earon slumped. “What you told me before, that’s all true, isn’t it? The scars, opening across the world?”

“I can only tell you what I’ve heard from merchants and adventurers. They say Ome was hit the worst. Apparently, the kingdom barely holds on.”

“I need to get back there, anyway I can.”

“In the morning, I’ll take you to the merchant’s guild. Perhaps you can find work with a caravan. It would be the safest means of crossing. It’s the least I can do for you, saving me and all back there. Also, I want to ask, that spell you cast back there, what was it?”

“A cantrip of walk on water. Used a few more reagents than I had hoped with that one.” Earon frowned. It was a high-demand cantrip and he wasn’t sure when he would be able to stock up again.

“So, you are a caster then?”

Earon nodded. It was a strange sensation having someone talk to him like he was a real caster. He still hadn’t shaken the imposter feeling that had haunted him since changing class.

“You must be powerful, to have an entire book of cantrips,” Lexi said, staring at Earon with eager eyes.

“Well, there’s not that many in here.” Earon scratched his head. “I’m still pretty new to this, and I've still got a lot to learn if I'm being honest.”

“I’m sure you know a lot more than me.”

“Than you?” Earon's brow raised.

“Yes,” Lexi nodded. She explained how she had unlocked the Trickster caster class only a few months prior. It was a fairly unique class, with little in the way of organization, since it was usually gained by rogues and other shady individuals. The lack of mentors meant that she had been stuck trying to figure it all out for herself, and it all reminded Earon a little of his own experience; up until meeting Trudels, that is.

Earon went on to give a brief explanation of his own journey, although he left out the part about how he had come to be a Warlock. He did his best to explain learning spells, and how he had learned from the books of other classes. Earon wasn’t sure whether or not these same techniques would work for Lexi, as they had him, but there didn’t seem to be harm in trying. Especially not when it seemed she had no idea where to begin.

Unlike Earon though, she still retained her original levels like everyone else. And between her stealth, thievery, and sleight-of-hand skills, she sounded like a pretty useful person to have around.

Earon, coming from a small town had never even heard of rogue classes, at least not in any meaningful way. He had vague memories of thieves and brigands brought up in bard songs, but they were never the focus and rarely got much explanation.

The two continued to talk late into the night, sharing about their classes and struggles as they learned about casting.

In the morning Lexi led Earon through the winding streets of Saner. Instead of the cold, grey brick of Caedstad, Saner felt warm, its buildings of sandstone were tightly packed with colorful lines of laundry hung between them. Rich reds, yellows, and greens brighten the sky above. Whilst stalls extended out the front of every other home, with everything from pottery, silk, and copper kitchenware to curved weapons and ornate water pipes out on display.

Earon had thought Caedstad a bustle of activity, with shops he had never seen before. But this was something else. It was beyond crowded, with both people and merchants leading camels through streets barely wide enough for their shoulders to pass.

Eyes widening, Lexi had to tug on Earon’s arm as he stopped to stare at a man whose head was that of a cobra.

“Chimeras don’t like people staring,” Lexi cautioned.

It wasn’t long before Earon noticed more, a hog-man and then a wolf. “Why are there so many?” he whispered.

“You don’t know much about Saner, do you?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Earon shook his head.

“Some call us the city of witches. Allied with the Emperor, the covenant of the Festering Lake is allowed to live here. In exchange for granting the emperor’s abnormally long life, that is. The chimeras are their minions, or pets, depending on who you ask.”

“All the chimeras work for them?” Earon questioned. He had known Iliana for months, and never had she mentioned a word of any of this. What’s more, she had known he searched for a witch, in hopes of learning more about himself. Nothing made any sense.

Lexi’s brow raised as she glanced back at Earon. “Chimeras are made by witches. It is their mastery of polymorphic magic and runes that allow them to exist. Most are slaves of their makers, though you will find plenty of strays here in Saner.”

Nodding, Earon thought back to Iliana. What had she been hiding? She had mentioned being from somewhere near Saner, but no more than that.

“Just be careful around them. You’re unlikely to get much help if you get into trouble with them since they're likely to serve a witch from the covenant.”

“I’ve never even heard of witches in Ome,” Earon shook his head, trying to make sense of it.

“Not many trust them, and for good reason. A witch is always trying to deceive. Their promises turn to curses, and no deal can ever be fully trusted.”

“And so, why does the Emperor trust them?”

“His line is said to be the most noble in all the world. Thousands of years of unchallenged imperial rule. It is unheard of anywhere else.”

Earon nodded as if he was missing something.

“I don’t really know the details of it. But the stories say that the lines of powerful lords are how they gain their most devastating powers. And rumor is, that in exchange for access to the line of Tuman, which is the line of the Imperial House of Saner, they serve more honestly.” Lexi shrugged. “Whether or not that’s true, I couldn’t tell you. They are somewhat of an open secret here and officially, they are referred to as maidens.”

Whilst he had learned a lot about magic, and how to use his, from Trudels, Earon wasn’t any closer to understanding why any of this had happened to him. Prior to all this, finding a witch had been his main goal. He needed to get back, of course, the opening scars made him even more fearful for his comrades. But he couldn’t just leave Saner without trying to learn more from these witches.

"That doesn't make a lot of sense. But thanks for sharing."

Lexi shrugged. "Doesn't make a lot of sense to me either. I'm just telling you what I've heard on the streets."

Earon raised a finger, “say, how would someone go about finding one of these witches, anyway?”

“Why would anyone want to find a witch?”

“Just intrigued,” Earon shrugged.

“Well, they all have mansions in town, so finding their location isn’t particularly hard. But I doubt they just let anyone in. I’ve heard rumors of some desperate people seeking help from them. But it is rare since those same people usually end up in some unfortunate circumstances.”

“I see.”

The merchant guild was an expansive square building with an ornate white facade and a huge, central courtyard. In front of it, dozens of tents were set up, with camels and attendants going about their business. A wooden platform stood just in front of the entry, and from it, a crier advertised for the various caravans.

Unfortunately, after half an hour of standing around, they had yet to hear any word of caravans headed to Ome. Not surprising, since the east and north were far less dangerous, and often more profitable unless you had a wealthy patron funding your travel to Ome. Especially the north, which held several ports that took travel from across the Hollow Sea.

“I’m sorry, it might be hard. Ome isn’t exactly a location people are rushing off to.”

“It’s fine, I expected as much.”

“Excuse me,” A portly man said, creeping over to the pair. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. If you’re looking for a caravan to Ome, I might be able to help.”

“Oh?” Earon hummed; brow raised.

“Oh, yes, indeed. It’s a deadly journey though, and they won’t be taking just anybody. You’ll need to earn your spot.” The man stepped closer, raising a hand against his mouth, and whispering. “Husklanders, spirit hunters. They go in search of whatever has caused this pox upon the land. Fierce warriors and religiously devout. But they travel with a heavy load and need manpower.”

“And they’re recruiting?”

“Not here, they’re not. In the lower city, hiring scoundrels. They prefer subtlety.”

“Earon, spirit hunters aren’t to be trusted. There’s a reason they hire thugs from the lower city instead of adventures or signing caravan contracts with the merchants' guild. If trouble comes, know that they’ll sacrifice you without a second thought.”

“Thank you for your time.” Earon smiled at the man. “I will keep it in mind.”

“Well, if you have a change of heart, you know where to find me. I can introduce you. Make sure you get a good deal.”

“He’ll be fine,” Lexi interjected, waving the man away. “Everyone in this city is after easy coin. Best to stay on guard, and don’t trust a word these beggars say. If they are offering a favor, be sure they are earning something for it. I’m sure we can find an alternative route to Ome for you.”

“Lexi,” Earon said, turning to her. “You don’t need to do all this for me. Whatever debt you may feel towards me for saving you. Consider it paid.”

A hint of red blushed Lexi’s cheeks and her face darted away to avoid Earon’s eyes. “A night on a hard floor is hardly payment for saving someone's life. Let me help you find a means to Caedstad, at least. It still wouldn’t be payment enough, but at least I’ll have felt like I did something in return.”

Earon nodded. There was a problem though, he had developed other plans.

Truth be told, he was enjoying her company and figured the chance of finding a caravan to Caedstad would be better with her help. But he wanted to look into the witches and wasn’t sure if Lexi would understand. She clearly didn't trust them.

“Okay, where to next, then?”

“How about we take a break, have you ever tried Sanerese tea?”

The teahouse was a large open terrace that looked out over the market district. Brightly colored cushions were laid out for patrons to lounge on whilst they drank a variety of flavored teas. Most tables came with their own water pipes, and sweet, floral smoke drifted through the teahouse.

“What’s Ryeland like?” Lexi asked as she drank tea with bright, vivid eyes.

“A lot greener than this place. Simpler too. And you know everyone.”

“So, you’re friends with everyone from your town?”

“I wouldn’t say everyone. But I know them at least. Hard not to have shared a passing word at least once when you live in a town as small as Ryewood.”

“Fascinating,” Lexi’s head bobbed. “What do you eat and drink?

“Stew mostly, potatoes, beets, and just about everything you pull out of the soil. Eggs, lots of eggs. Mutton and chicken, sometimes. Beef on special occasions. Plums and apricots. The best pies in the land; sweet and full of flavor. Roasts crispy skin and peppery gravy, served with onions and pumpkin. Soup of course, and porridge for breakfast.”

The smile that crept across Lexi’s face looked genuine for the first time as she listened to Earon tell stories of drunken foolery, and playful gags amongst his townsfolk. Bets that went unpaid, but didn’t result in fights, and instead were resolved over flagons of ale and light-hearted mockery.

“Ryewood sounds so pleasant. I wish it was possible for me to visit one day.”

Earon flashed a curt smile. “I used to talk like that. I used to think that my lot in life had already been decided. That I was destined to no more than a farmer's life, not that it was necessarily bad. But I was selling myself short, and it took a tragedy for me to look past that.” Earon's eyes hovered upward to greet Lexi’s. “I hope you don’t feel the same. You don’t have to sell yourself into a life you don’t want.”

“You’re kind, Earon. But we’re not cut from the same cloth, even if we are both peasants in the eyes of lords. I don’t even know who my parents were. A kid so worthless, they were left on the street of Saner to fend for themselves.”

“That's not true, and you know it." Earon shook his head. "You know, the truth is, I don't know my real parents either. Maggie was as much a mother as I could have ever hoped for, and I love her more than anything. But she wasn’t my mother, at least not by birth. And now she’s dead" Earon forced a smile. "And I never got a chance to learn any more about my origins. And likely never will.”

Lexi’s hand reached out and brushed Earon’s but flinched and retreated as he moved.

“Let's go, the day's running short, and we still need to see if we can replace some of your missing reagents,” Lexi said, awkwardly changing the topic.