Levy did not stop or wait to check his surroundings as he continued to walk through the large market square with purpose and direction. Ethan got the impression that the little boy, a child, knew this place like the back of his hand and navigated it better than any of the merchants, let alone shoppers.

“Say, Levi,” Ethan started after several uncomfortable minutes of silence, trying to keep up with the boy’s quick pace, “What happens to the children on the streets? Are there no institutions that take care of them? Like orphanages and the such?”

The boy scoffed, “As if! Not that my friends or I know of. Maybe for the noble brats, but not for us common folk. It has been like this since the late duke perished, last I heard. If anything was different, it was before I was born.”

“What? Was it different somehow?” Ethan asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

Looking back at Ethan, Levy shrugged and said, “The older timers say it was better then. Lots of noble-supported homes in various districts. An initiative from the duke or something to keep the children fed and taken care of. That changed, however, once his wife or whoever took over. So many things changed; however, losing the orphanages was felt across the city.”

“Yes, heard something about this duke today,” Ethan said thoughtfully.

“M? You new to the city then?” Levy asked.

“Me?” Ethan looked up from the road and glanced at the boy, who had slowed down by now. “Yes, I traveled from Willow today. This is my first time in a town as large as this one.”

“Oh, apologies then. For trying to pickpocket you,” Levy clarified. “I do try to keep to a creed of sorts. Take from those who are able but unwilling to give. So many have it hard in this city for me to be robbing of the wrong sort. Where are you from then?”

“Eh, that is a long story,” Ethan answered, scratching his head with a laugh. “The short version is that I am from the north of here. A bit further away from Willow. You know of the village, right?”

“Yes,” Levy nodded. “Would not want to be in their place. Further north than I would like. People come and talk, you know. The guilders, I mean. So many families I know in these parts lost a friend or an acquaintance they know. Not only a guilder but guards or simple merchants. The monster activity has been picking up over the past few years.”

“But the city is safe, right?” Ethan asked.

Levy shrugged, “I guess. They divided it into three rings. You passed the outermost wall already. Two more such walls enclose the ducal manor in the middle. You need to be a noble or someone of importance to get there. Or pay a pretty token. They are the safest, while we will be the first to deal with monsters.”

“Oh, is that so? How many people live in the sections then?” Ethan asked.

“Who counts that stuff?” Levy asked, surprised, not seeing Ethan grimace at the memory of notes counting the random stuff he found in the castle. “Anyway, if I had to estimate, it would be like a hundred thousand in the outer circle, maybe fifty thousand in the inner, and then around ten thousand in the very middle. Naturally, though, most of those in the middle would be servants and the sort. Not that many nobles, to my mind. Either way, much fewer souls in this forsaken place than the monsters outside.”

“You have seen one? A monster, I mean,” Ethan asked, curious if they managed to get inside.

“Me? No, thank the heavens! They do not spawn in the cities. At least, that is what I heard from some guilders in a pub. Neither have I seen one in the sewers. That is not what the priests continue to spew, however. Every single day they yell that the day of the reckoning is coming,” Levy said with a chuckle.

“Yea, heard about them as well. Saw a cathedral on the way in. So, are they for real? The priests, I mean,” Ethan asked.

“Not that I know of,” Levy answered. “If their gods were real, would so many suffer in these walls? I do not believe so. At least some have the magic to make something of themselves in this city. Does not stop them priests from yelling on every corner they can afford, asking people to come and join them on the seventh-day.”

“Seventh-day?” Ethan asked.

“Yea, the last day of the week,” Levy clarified. “Or what? Where you are from, you do not count the days?”

Ethan chuckled nonchalantly, “We do; just call them differently. Say, how do you call them here?”

Levy stopped dead for the first time and looked at Ethan, narrowing his eyes, “That is a weird question. Although, come to think of it, you yourself are weird. Dress like a noble, though not one of them. Too tall for these parts. And what are those on your arms?” Levy asked, pointing at Ethan’s tattoos.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“These?” he raised his hands. “They are called tattoos. Where I come from, we use them to show our personality and for the art, of course.”

“Hmm, weird,” was all Levy said as he continued their walk, their surroundings visibly improving as ornate stone buildings replaced the market tents. “As for the days, it is simple. There are seven of them, and we just named them after the order they come in. So the first is the first-day, then the second is the second-day, and so on. Thirty of them in a month and twelve months in a year.”

Ethan nodded, “Yes, that makes sense.”

“You a guilder then?” Levy asked.

“No,” Ethan shook his head, “but I would like to join at one point. Who would not? From what I hear, they do good work and earn well enough as well.”

“I would not,” Levy said flatly. “Better have my chances in the city than go outside and try to deal with the things lurking out there. People are simple. Say this or that, depending on the situation, and run away if all goes south; monsters are not, from what I hear. One wrong move, and you lose your head or a limb. Hence, I would better deal with humans than try my chances on the Guilder quests.”

“Well, you are not wrong,” Ethan answered. “But how does one become a guilder? I met some people today, but they did not exactly point me to the hall or whatever they have.”

“Oh? Are you seriously considering it? Mad - that is what you are. Either way, to become a guilder, you need an aspect seed, which is the first dead-end people usually face. Next, you will need to apply to their hall in the second circle of the city, where their guild hall is located. Pay some tokens, fill some forms, and you have your training and test coming up.”

“Test? Seriously?” Ethan asked, dreading his school days.

“What? You thought that just because you were fool enough to survive the aspect ritual, you would be the great adventurer everyone sings songs of? No way. Too many people like that have already died, wasting resources and everyone’s time. So now they started doing these tests to see how you would handle decision-making, teamwork, fighting, and the like. Usually, the higher grade guilders carry them out, hence the hefty fee to even try and join them.“

“That is likely why not many try and join then, right?” Ethan asked, seeing that the money concerned people in Veer, the same as back on Earth.

“Yes, exactly. That and the fact that not many people find aspect seeds just lying around. Some do, then, to scrape the money to join or, better yet, just sell the seeds outright,” Levy answered.

“And that is why some turn to robbery? Say, why are you robbing people besides the obvious?” Ethan asked.

“Simple. To repay the debts my parents landed in. It turns out that if you take money from the wrong guy, you still have to repay it, even after death. If you cannot be raised by necromancy and the sort to work it off, some people find a living candidate. In my case - me.”

“What? That is awful!” Ethan said. “What do you mean necromancy? Undead is a thing?”

“I am joking,” Levy said with a laugh. “That stuff would get you killed real quick. The guilders have a list of restricted stuff—lots of rules to this magic business. As for me, no, it is quite simple. The local crime boss, Azurael, lent some money to my parents, and now I am working it off. I could try and run away - but where to? No way I could make it to the next village unnoticed. So I gotta do what I can to work this thing off besides tending to the stables.”

Ethan shook his head, understanding that whatever the world, even as magical as Erde, people still struggled with the same problems. Then, feeling they had been walking for a while, he asked, “Say, how far do we still have to go?”

“Right here around the corner,” Levy responded. After a few steps, they passed a corner of yet another adorned stone building, and as promised, Ethan saw a shop with a large silver sign above it, the Cosmic Couture.

“Here we are, sir,” Levy said, stopping and looking at Ethan. “Come to think of it, I never learned your name.”

“Oh, right. The name is Ethan,” Ethan said as he extended the other half of the promised payment to the boy. “Thank you for not trying to steal from me again. Or better yet, lead me to some ambush.”

“No worries, it was my bad in the first place,” Levy answered, snatching up the tokens. “And if you need more of my services, find me in the market again. Just ask around; they will point you the right way.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said and nodded to the boy, who returned the gesture and quickly vanished around the corner in the first hours of the night.

“What a weird fellow,” Ethan thought as he turned to the shop front, examining the large windows displaying various garments and costumes. At least, that is how he viewed the weird jackets and pants reminding him of Victorian-era court clothing. God, I hope no one is wearing this stuff, Ethan thought and went to the door, knocking on it.

As the hour was late, Ethan did not expect anyone to be in, but to his surprise, a voice called out from the shop, “Oy, George, that you? Come in!”

Ethan shrugged and pulled the sizeable tinted door open. He stepped inside the shop, surprised at how loud it was there. But, just as he entered, the voices cut off, and he was met by a group of young men dressed in precisely the type of clothes he dreaded anyone to wear. Even worse was the fact that they looked to be wearing what seemed to be wigs if Ethan’s eyes did not betray him. And as luck would have it, the one who met his gaze had the biggest wig of them all, as he sneered and called out, “Who the hell are you? Look whom we have got here, boys! A commoner pig!”

The group turned, laughing with drinks in their hands, as their attention was redirected from a man on the ground. Ethan turned to the man they stood next to and examined him. He wore tattered clothes, messy silvery hair, and broken glasses. What stood out, though, were a few things. First, the man was tied up, gagged, and had pointy ears.

What the hell? An elf? Ethan thought and closed the door behind himself.