Jerome walked through a crowded street called Ters’n as he browsed through shops for more gifts he wanted to give to his friends at the orphanage.
“For a somewhat medieval city, Farryn is kinda beautiful,” he muttered, smiling to himself as he stared at the beautiful Victorian housing units that lined both sides of the streets.
Each low-rise building was beautifully built and had a store as an extension in front of it.
“Though the view must be way better from up there,” he mused, looking up at the sky. He wouldn’t have bothered walking and would have flown straight to the orphanage had Rihal not poured cold water on his plan.
Flying was prohibited inside the city.
But this was good too. He was able to get some gifts for Ms Tara, Moss, and Old Wen, as a result.
“God I miss you guys,” he muttered even as he unconsciously quickened his steps. These were the people who took care of him when he was at the orphanage, so he had to reciprocate and take care of them in return.
Jerome smiled as he reminisced on his time at the orphanage.
Moss and Miss Tara took turns preparing meals for the kids — well, Ms. Tara more than Moss. And only when it was available. They were also in charge of sorting through whatever spoils came in from the kids’ adventures, storing the spoils for later use or preserving them for feeding if there were consumables among them.
Old Wen’s the guard. Although he’s old, he’s built like a tree, and he’s quite good at scaring away riff-raff.
Contrary to what Rihal had said, people gave Jerome a wide berth on the streets and even in the stores he visited. Some customers and staff of the various stores he visited would bow low to him upon seeing him, it quickly became annoying.
There goes being inconspicuous, he thought. At least I still have my anonymity. He pulled his hood down over his face to cover whatever bit was still exposed. Jerome had on a hooded black robe with fitted sleeves and black leather gloves. He was dressed as someone who wanted to keep a low profile. The usual crest of the Royal family was missing from his robes.
He found himself in front of a six-story building — one of many in the street. A ten feet tall stone monolith was erected outside the building to add to its splendor. Carved on top of it was a sculpture of a man supporting a gigantic uncut crystal stone on his shoulders. The carved stone must have been 30 yards across.
The sculpted stone glistened in the sun and he could sense the pure essence oozing off it. Jerome could tell that it was just an ordinary stone though, since no one in their right mind would mount a high grade crystal stone that huge outside their front door. Right? This was all just to show that they sold the purest uncut high-grade crystal stones.
“The Crystal Gateway,” he said, reading the inscription on the stone monolith. He chuckled. “What a cheesy name.”
He quickly walked toward the double doors at the entrance of the building to escape the stares of the pedestrians on the street. Maybe he could also buy his family resources to help in their advancement. Heaven knows they need it. Or as they say in Vorthe, ‘Light knows they need it’.
One would think Vorthe was a religious kingdom. But Jerome had never laid eyes on a cathedral, or heard of a religious figure like a god. The Sovereign, though, was revered as a great leader but not to the extent that he was worshiped as an entity synonymous with a god.
“So many crystal stones,” Jerome said in awe the moment he stepped into the foyer, a grand and magnificent sight to behold. The hall was brimming with dense, pure essence. Huge sky-blue chunks of uncut high-grade crystal stones sat gallantly behind formation-protected, floor-to-ceiling shelves attached to the walls.
“Magnificent.” It was like a crystal stone gallery, except customers weren’t here to admire art but to purchase the crystal stones.
Giant crystal stones were flying off the shelves as he moved around the hall. The interior walls of the hall were literally glittering with dense essence from the high-grade crystal stones encased in the shelves attached to the wall.
Someone came rushing out of a back door towards Jerome after a while.
“Gratitude for visiting our store, young lord?” The newcomer said. “I’m Tala’an Taleed, the manager of the Crystal Gateway.”
Many customers in the hall turned to see who was so important that the Crystal Gateway would send its manager to welcome them.
“How may I be of service to you?” Tala’an Taleed asked.
The manager was a rotund man who looked to be in his forties, but Jerome knew he’d be very much older than that. The pressure he felt from the man was akin to what he felt from Kilian or Rihal, a Spirit Realm expert.
Jerome quickly schooled his features. “Yes, I’d like to purchase some uncut stone crystals.”
“How may I address you, senior?” he asked as he was led to a back room.
“You may call me Taleed, young lord,” said the shopkeeper.
“The House of Ores?”
“Yes, young lord, hahaha! The Tala’ans have been the household name for high-grade stone crystals in Vorthe for millennia, thanks to our partnership with the Royal Family of course.”
Unlike the traditional houses and clans in Vorthe who put their first names before their family names, there were some families, perhaps those whose ancestors came from the Eastern continent, whose family names came first before their first names. Tala’an Taleed was from one such family. His accent was a dead giveaway as no one Jerome had met before spoke like him.
“Senior Taleed, I must say, I am not anyone of importance in Vorthe. And I wish to keep a low profile. I can’t understand why everyone around here’s acting with respect toward me, I’m really not anyone important.”
Tala’an Taleed chuckled, “Oh, I see. I’m afraid that is going to be impossible, young lord.”
“How so? I’m not dressed in a way people can tell who I am.”
“Nobody needs to know who you are, young lord, your boots gave you away! Hahaha!” Taleed’s jowls jiggled comically as he laughed loudly.
“Huh?!” Jerome exclaimed in confusion. “My boots? How so?” He looked down to examine them for signs of the Royal crest but there were none.
He loved his boots. They were new and shiny. But how could they give away his identity?
“That’s because they’re only worn by Royalty!” Taleed chortled loudly.
Jerome’s brows rose in surprise as he never expected that even his boots would have such uniqueness. He had made sure not to wear clothes with the Royal Family’s crest so as not to attract attention, but things didn’t go the way he wanted.
This must be Rihal’s doing, he thought to himself with a frown. He could imagine the smug look on Rihal’s face for having pulled one on him.
They entered a small room and Jerome noticed it was bare, save for a fairly wide stone platform attached to the wall opposite him. Taleed mounted the two feet high platform and Jerome followed suit.
“It’s going to be a bumpy ride, young lord. Do forgive our inadequacies.”
Jerome only had a moment to realize what the platform was. He felt essence pour out of Taleed and the platform began to quake, vibrating as if the whole building was about to come down on him. He wanted to reach out and brace himself on the wall but that would be very embarrassing.
The platform slowly lifted into the air, still attached to the back wall. Now that he looked at it, he could see the joint where the platform met the wall and slid upwards. The roof over their heads seemed to move with them too. But unsurprisingly, the shaking of the platform did not stop.
It was a very turbulent, uncomfortable, and noisy ride. After the ordeal, Jerome felt like he had ridden a horse for at least a whole day. The amount of strain his muscles were on from the pressure of the formation was tremendous; as if gravity tripled on the stone platform.
“Next time, Senior Taleed, we should use the stairs,” he said as they got off the elevator.
“Er, sorry about that, young lord,” Taleed said sheepishly. “Sometimes I forget that the elevators of the royals are as high as the heavens compared to what can be found elsewhere.”
“You don’t say,” Jerome deadpanned, looking up at him. Taleed reddened but cleared his throat, acting as if nothing awkward had just happened.
“I have heard tales from those who have had the honor to visit the Royal Estate once. They say the elevator built by Elder Duten is as smooth as a ride on the back of a phoenix. Haha! I can only imagine going on one of those. It must be an experience of a lifetime!” he bubbled with excitement, droning on. “Oh, what I’d give to visit the Royal Estate for a day!”
Jerome had to follow quietly, enduring the rant as they walked. But soon after they came to a small, secluded hallway. Taleed walked him up to a door and opened it with a key on his person.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Jerome took in the room as he walked in with a critical eye. The room was small, and decked in shades of beige, orange, and white to give it a homely feel. There were a few cushion chairs around a small polished wooden table and nothing else.
One could let down their guard in such a homey place, he thought.
As they sat down, Taleed rang a little bell that was on the table and a maid walked in shortly after to serve tea. The maid walked out afterward and he pulled back his hood to reveal his face. Now that the manager knew — or thought — he was royalty, he was probably very safe.
“As the young lord has seen, Crystal Gateway sells one of the most important items sacred artists need. High-grade crystal stones take a lot of effort and money to mine, and also a lot of money to purchase…” Taleed droned on.
Jerome shut him out a little as he slowly drank the tea in front of him. He understood that he was being given special treatment, so the manager took the opportunity to market his goods to him.
“How much?” Jerome asked. He couldn’t afford the time to listen anymore.
“You are a prudent and straightforward man, young lord. We sell for three hundred mid-grade crystal coins per dervanis, that’s the—”
“The equivalent of a pound in the old tongue. I do know a few words in Aramanai, Senior Taleed,” Jerome said with a smirk.
“That’s impressive young lord, most younglings these days do not concern themselves with the old tongue. It’s good to know it won’t die out with my generation,” Taleed spoke with labored breath. He had probably talked for too long. The man needed to check his weight and diet.
“I’ll take four hundred pounds,” Jerome declared. He took out a storage bag and began counting out 1200 high-grade crystal coins on the table.
~~~
The crystal coins whether high, mid, or low grade were all cut into shape from raw ores mined around Vorthe. They’re preserved for years with the help of runes — the expertise of the Royal family. No one else could do it by law. The highs were the most precious of them all. And now 1200 of them were being counted out in front of him like it was nothing.
Taleed’s eyes filled with reverence — and a little greed — as he saw the growing heap of highs the young lord was counting out on his table. “Gratitude, young lord,” he said with a slight bow after the young lord was done counting. “You have truly made my day!”
“Huh?” the young lord asked with a puzzled look. Ah! Taleed couldn’t fault him. Privilege was invisible to those who have it. The young lord clearly didn’t know how rare the highs were.
“If I may, young lord. High-grade crystal coins are rare and not just anyone can possess one.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I do transactions with them but have never held this much. I’ve never had this much in my hands. You can imagine my commission on this young lord,” he said suggestively. He picked up a handful as he chortled lightly.
“Vorthe is the largest distributor of high-grade crystal stones on the continent! They own all the mines in their Territory. And the Great Clans own their own mines too. Albeit, there is no information of them ever mining high-grade crystal stones. There’s very little I can do to get clients of esteem like you, you see!”
“Well, I’m glad I could be of help, Senior Taleed.” The young lord bowed from his seat.
“Not at all! Not at all! I’m the one who should be paying you obeisance! Hahaha!” He quickly rang the little bell on the table to call for an attendant.
“So the highs,” the young lord suddenly said. His perfectly oiled and combed hair glistening in the low light of the room left a deeper impression on Taleed than even his small visage. “What more can you tell me about the highs? About their commercial importance and use, that is.” He added two more to the pile with a smile.
“Oh,” Taleed quickly pocketed the two highs. “Ahem. This is a ‘not so public knowledge’ but it’s still public. The high-grade coin isn’t a currency one used in day-to-day transactions. Instead it is used in transactions between nobles and kingdoms. I would advise the young lord not to openly flaunt them so as not to end up… you know what I mean, young lord.”
Taleed searched the face of the young Blank to see if he took offense. The young lord was nodding in concentration but there was not a single sign of anger in his eyes. He sighed in relief and went on.
“It can be used in auction houses and the purchase of land leases and precious treasures. But never for anything that would cost less than the price of ten highs. Vorthe also monitors them,” the young lord’s eyes lit up in surprise at that. He dropped another high on the heap and Taleed quickly pocketed it.
Taleed leaned into the information some more. “They do it once or twice a moon. You’d see the inscribed rune flash a few times before going back to normal. There might be other times but this is what experts that track the monitoring say.”
“Why is the monitoring being tracked?”
“Young lord, you may not know that there are many who seek to pirate Vorthe’s coin.” The young lord’s brows rose at that.
“That would cripple Vorthe’s economy!”
“Yes, it will,” Taleed agreed, nodding solemnly. “But thankfully, they have never succeeded. Vorthe catches up with them from time to time. The ones that are caught are brought to justice and life goes on for the rest of us.”
The young lord nodded slowly in thought, digesting his words. Where was the attendant?
Taleed was beginning to worry when someone knocked on the door. He flicked a finger to open the door. The attendant would have seen the pile of highs on the table if he hadn’t quickly sucked them into his storage ring. Taleed also noticed the young lord pull his hood back over his head.
Privacy was key when dealing with the nobles and royals like these. If they could trust him with their finances, they would want him to keep it a secret.
“Get me 400 pounds of the newly supplied highs. Use the best of our special storage boxes! Hurry!” the attendant scrambled out of the room.
Most noble scions couldn’t buy a quarter of what the young lord before him just bought and they did move around with guards. This one who happens to be royalty didn’t even come with one. But appearances could be deceiving.
He may have guards in the shadows. Who knows? Taleed looked around the room just to be sure. May the heavens have mercy on anyone who thinks to rob a Vorthe, because they wouldn’t, he thought to himself as goose bumps rose on his skin and he shivered lightly.
~~~
Moments after the attendant came and took his purchase order away, a group of attendants came into the room carrying heavy crate-like boxes. Jerome examined the craftsmanship of the crates with admiration.
“These crates were specially designed to preserve high-grade crystal stones for up to a decade! They are the specialty of Grandmaster Fesir Vorthe, the most notable artifact refiner in all of Vorthe,” Taleed praised.
“Hmph,” Jerome hmphed soundlessly, unconsciously expressing his resentment towards the Elder. The others in the room may not have noticed it but he was sure Tala’an Taleed did. He felt it in the way the Spirit Realm artist quickly changed the direction of his words.
“Er, er, I hope you’re pleased with our selection young lord. These are the best and latest of the mineral veins that have been mined,” Taleed said, almost stuttering.
Jerome had to give him props for noticing the slight change in his mood. He wasn’t a Spirit Realm artist for nothing. He could discern his customers’ expressions and would do everything in his power to keep them content.
“Hmm,” Jerome nodded and stored all the boxes in his storage bags. The new pouches he was given were better versions of the one Rihal gave him at the start of Pilgrims’ Keep. The boxes were animatedly sucked into the pouches as he opened them, positioning them close to the boxes he wanted to store away. He thanked the manager and left promptly with his merchandise.
He was lucky today. The value of high-grade crystal coins could not be overemphasized. This was a currency, not just anyone could have or carry around, hence, he was grateful he was putting on Royalty-issued boots, if not he may have lost everything, even the clothes he was putting on to thieves.
Jerome pulled his hood closely over his face as he walked down Ters’n Street. He quickened his steps as the sun was already setting over the horizon. By the time he got to the slums, it was night already. He passed through the barrier that separated the slums from the rest of Farryn and felt the change in the air.
Jerome ignored the strange sensation of passing through the barrier. He turned corners as his body remembered the shortest routes to get to the orphanage, excitement burbling in his gut. But as he got closer to the orphanage, that excitement began turning into something else. His heart began beating faster and he felt dread welling up in his gut.
What’s this feeling, he thought to himself. He’d never had such feelings before, and it was contrary to what he should be feeling. He didn’t know why he was feeling dread in the pit of his stomach, but he quickly pushed down on his emotions.
When he got to the front of the orphanage he was dazed. He could tell there was not a single soul inside the building. He walked in carefully, thinking someone was playing a prank on him. Jerome chuckled to himself as he walked past the front entrance.
The place looked like it had been abandoned, and almost immediately at that. There was a light sheet of dust covering most of — if not all the surfaces. Running a finger across one of the walls, Jerome became very convinced that something had gone wrong. His finger came back covered in dust.
Ms. Tara was a clean freak because ‘the slum was a special place for all the dust in Farryn to gather’ like she used to say when she cleaned.
What’s going on? Why is my home empty? He thought about many different scenarios as he walked from room to room, but there weren’t many rooms, to begin with. After searching for a while and finding nothing, he left and headed to the closest homes around the orphanage.
“Cowhide!” Jerome called out as he closed in on the shack. He could hear the rough breathing and snoring of a man inside the shack. He knocked lightly on what could be considered a door and the whole thing grumbled as if, anymore and it’ll fall apart.
The shack was haphazardly put together with everything from weathered tree branches to broken mud tiles.
“Cowhide, get up!” he said, getting agitated. The feeling of dread he felt before was beginning to rise again and he couldn’t help but think something bad had happened to his friends and family.
Cowhide was one of the recipients of Jerome’s and his friends’ mischievous acts back in the day. They had frustrated the life out of him. The man was called Cowhide because he always claimed that he hunted magical beasts in his younger years and wore their hide as clothes.
Nobody believed him though, as his foundation was nothing to write home about. Only at the Essence-Gathering Realm — a Drudge. But even being a drudge, Cowhide never cared at all. His aptitude was the worst of the worst after all.
Cowhide shouted himself out of his sleep as though he’d had a nightmare. He quickly got up and came out of his home only to meet a stranger he didn’t recognize.
“Who are you?” Cowhide asked.
“It’s me, Jerome, how’ve you been?”
“Jerome? You’re Jerome?!” Cowhide asked in amazement, “Well look at ya! All grown up and shinin’ like a jewel, eh?” he snickered.
Jerome cleared his throat. “Cowhide, I was wondering if you know the whereabouts of everyone from the orphanage. The whole place seems to have been deserted quickly.”
“They all been tak’n away from here, y’know? Some rich ass kid and his guards came here ‘bout a tenday ago and dragged ‘em all off, y’know?”
Jerome’s heart dropped. Goosebumps rose on his skin as he began to sweat, but soon he caught himself as he realized he had a backer too. The best backer one could have in Farryn.
“What family was the kid from?” He demanded.
“Slow down, slow down, eh?” Cowhide quickly went back into his shack and came out with a box. “He dropped this. Said to give it to ya when ye come around?”
Jerome grabbed the box. The moment his hand touched it, it fell apart and a piece of paper fluttered downwards from inside it. He quickly grabbed the piece of paper and scanned its contents.
This was Hedon Alvric’s doing.