“Signature there,” the tenured clerk, Betty, said with a thin-lipped smile.

Rhen scribbled the pen across the page for what felt like the hundredth time. Why paper was a necessary part of realm discovery was beyond him.

His attention wandered to the towering bookshelves filled with paperwork. There were labels on each for every discovery from Desedra I. The nexus node Rhen had discovered just a few weeks ago should’ve been in there somewhere.

The room was private since the founding of a new realm was a more prestigious event, for which he was grateful to be away from prying eyes of the guild staff. When he walked through the doors, despite smelling like rotten crawfish from the gigafish battle, everyone had mobbed him in congratulations.

Betty cleared her throat. “And here.” She pointed a long, blue-painted nail further down the page.

“Sorry.” Rhen smoothed back his curly brown hair and scribbled another quick signature. Gods, how many had it really been? He looked at the stack to his left, those papers already signed, and the stack to his right which still needed signatures. To his dismay, they were about equal.

Betty pulled the completed sheet out and placed it on the done pile, then grabbed the next one. “This here states that the Imperial Kingdom of Ptahli has rights to send a survey team to review the mineral compositions of the soil near the nexus node for contamination.”

“Contaminated with what?”

“A rare bacterium that can be harmful to their people. If just a little bit of it was there, it could eliminate the Taalites in a matter of months.”

Rhen exhaled slowly. He was starting to get cross-eyed from all this but realized how important his signature was for this allowance. He didn’t want to wipe out an entire race.

Rhen dragged his pen across the page, then again at the bottom for some other confirmation that it was actually him doing the signing. That bit made him a little uncomfortable. Was it actually him doing the signing if he wasn’t really Rhen?

No, those were tired thoughts that had no place here.

Betty pulled the next sheet and Rhen held in a yawn.

“Oh dear, were you not prepared for this?” she asked, taking note of his poorly stifled display of drowsiness.

Rhen winced. He hadn’t meant to be rude. “Uh, honestly no. Not this much paperwork, at least.”

Betty smiled kindly. “Well, if we can finish with the immediate essentials now, I can send you home with the rest as long as you promise to be back in the next three weeks with it.”

Rhen sat up straighter, focusing. “Yes, ma’am, I can do that.”

“Good. This one states the Imperial Crown requires safe passage up to D.O.G. standards be built to the nexus node within two months of the find or they will take charge of the dungeon operations and pass it off to the nearest competent team to complete the build.”

“Wait, they’ll take my dungeon? And nearest competent… would that be Desedra?”

“I believe the closest would be Welsh, sign here,” Betty smiled as if nothing were amiss and pointed to the dotted line.

Welsh getting control of his dungeon? Not over his thrice over corpse.

"Why the closest? Why not auction it?" Rhen asked, feeling indignant about the whole idea.

Betty sighed. “An auction would take time to organize, and the winner might be two, three, even five realms away. The additional marks we’d earn on the front wouldn’t offset the loss of access to the new realm on the back. You do know that if the new realm’s dungeons aren’t delved in the next year, we could lose that anima connection to it? Sign there,” she pointed again.

Rhen stammered, unable to get his thoughts out. Losing the connection to the realm wouldn’t just be devastating for him, but for all the realms, and the Tree of Being. It wanted to grow, it needed this connection… he needed to help it. If that meant stepping out of the way to ensure the connection could be sustained, perhaps that was what was best.

But he could do it. He could make this work. He wasn’t going to lose his dungeon.

“Is there no way to negotiate this? There’s no way two months is enough—”

“These are the rules, Mr. Zephitz. The entirety of the Imperial Kingdoms cannot risk losing a new realm just because the claim is yours.”

“But, ma’am, please. My dungeon crew is small, we’re mostly delvers, and the nexus is deep underwater. There has to be something I can do to get an extension, even a small one. I don’t want the realm to be lost, either… I know we can do this if we just had a little more time, and my crew is experienced delvers. We can be in there just as soon as we’re approved to.”

Betty sighed and moved toward another shelf. She pushed a button beside the towering shelves and a spiral staircase popped from the wood. She climbed, holding to the railing and panting a bit as she went. Rhen hadn’t meant to make the older woman work for it, but he wasn’t just going to sign away his dungeon to Welsh.

But he also couldn’t just let the new realm slip through their fingers. He would have to accept that if he couldn’t get the infrastructure completed on time, someone else would need to step in. Rhen didn’t have any confidence that Welsh could complete the build if he couldn’t, and he supposed that would be something he’d have to bring up, but only if he had no chance of pulling through.

The clerk returned a moment later with another thick stack of papers. Oh no.

She thunked them down on the desk. “These will give you another two months as long as you have good evidence which needs to be reviewed by a D.O.G. representative.”

Rhen sighed. “Thank you. Really. Two more months will—”

“Let’s get back to it. Sign here.” She pointed to the line on the paper that would surrender his dungeon to Welsh if he failed to provide a proper passage to the nexus. What even was a proper passage? More paperwork he’d have to read.

His head throbbed and he scribbled.

Scribbled.

Scribbled.

Scribl.

Scrb…

Ugh.

When the necessary stack was completed, Rhen sat back and massaged his hand.

“Now, just a few more things,” the evil clerk Betty said, setting another stack down in front of him.

Rhen was ready to die instead of sign one more paper. But he had to. Everyone was back at the resurrection node, waiting for an epic tiki party.

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The tiki party would get him through.

Scribble.

Scribble.

Scribble…

Just when Rhen thought he might pass out, Betty smiled. “All finished, with the immediate necessaries. I’ll be sending you home with these”—she slammed a fat stack down beside him. “And Arannet. Arannet!” Betty shrilled loudly and the door at the end of the hall between the tower of bookshelves opened.

“You called me?” a timid profile appeared in the doorway to match the timid feminine voice.

“You have an assignment,” Betty said in a stern voice.

The slight profile approached, revealing a Shin’Baran girl with brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, wearing a white, button-down business shirt and black slacks. Her feet delicately clickity-clacked as she walked; a timid step to match the girl. She couldn’t been more than twenty—but maybe it was in the way she carried herself that made her look so young.

Rhen wasn’t interested in having a guild dog at his heel in the dungeon, in fact, he loathed the idea, but it was probably in some other paperwork he already signed. The sooner he got everything done, the better for everyone.

“This is Mr. Zephitz—

“Oh, I know! You just discovered the eighteenth realm. Everyone is buzzing out in the…” she trailed off as she noticed Betty’s harsh stare. “Sorry.”

Betty tugged down on her clerk’s apron. “You will be surveying the state of the nexus node, and assisting Mr. Zephitz with anything else he needs.” She continued, muttering under her breath, “Which is practically everything.”

Arannet’s eyes sparkled and her hands balled into little excited fists. “Really? You’re giving Zephitz to me?”

“Anymore dallying and it’ll go to Connor!” Betty said with a whip-snap of her hand as she pointed to the stacks of paper.

Arannet moved like lightning and jumped to, coming around the table to shake Rhen’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Zephitz.”

“Same,” he said, taking her hand and gripping it firmly. She winced at the strength of his shake and he released her, mumbling a quick, “Sorry.” He wasn’t used to people who couldn’t take a firm handshake.

“He’ll need forms zeta two nine seven and bravo victor eight three four back before the end of the week. Understood?” Betty asked, an incessant tone to her voice.

“Yes, ma’am, very good. We’ll have it all done…” she heaved to pick up the paperwork.

“Let me help,” Rhen offered, standing to assist her. While he didn’t want her around, he didn’t want her breaking her back.

“No, no, I’ve got it,” she grunted, then turned a ring on the middle finger of her left hand. With a whump of white sparkles, the paperwork disappeared into nowhere. The ring shimmered briefly, and she turned it back around. “Ah there, see, got it.”

“What was that?” Rhen scowled at her hand.

“It’s an enon ring!” Arannet shoved her hand out to show him. “The gem there stores everything in a between-realm stasis. It’s powered by my syntial”—she went to roll up her sleeve and Betty loudly cleared her throat.

Arannet stopped short and regained her timid, professional demeanor, clasping her hands in front of her. “Every professional D.O.G. attendant has one. In any case, shall we go, Mr. Zephitz?”

Rhen nodded. It was quite a way back to the dungeon, but there were still a few trains running out that way if they hurried. He scooted his chair in and headed for the door, noting that Betty caught Arannet’s arm as she went to follow. He heard Betty whisper some angry hush to her, and she replied with a terse, “Yes, ma’am.”

Her shoes clip-clacked quickly as she ran to catch up with him. “So, is Zephitz I far?”

“Hmm, not too far,” he lied, knowing that his definition of far was likely not the same as hers, a prim and proper D.O.G. assistant. “A few hours by train, and if we make good time, just half an hour through the forest.”

“I’m excited to see it,” she said, her joy subdued. Betty must’ve told her to keep a lid on it.

“Have you seen many?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Oh, a few,” she said, then chuckled nervously. Rhen didn’t like the sound of that nervous chuckle. Did she even know what she was doing? She seemed surprised to be getting the assignment…

They walked in silence out of the building, Arannet always staking a pace or two behind him while he led. He was hungry, so on their way out he stopped at a vendor propped up against the D.O.G. building.

“You know, regulation fifteen C of the street ordinance states that no vendor can be within one hundred yards of the building.” Arannet commented meekly.

Rhen and the vendor both glared at her and she shrank back.

“Two kebabs of whatever’s fresh,” Rhen said, dropping three imperial marks on the counter.

“Right away, sir!” the vendor said, scooping up the overpayment.

Rhen knew dra, the Desedra currency, was more common around here, and about a third the value of marks. But he was feeling generous.

The vendor grabbed a thin sheaf of parchment and reached into the hot pot sitting on a low coal fire. He returned with two smoky sticks with thick, juicy brown cuts of meat. Definitely not horromoth, to his delight.

“Thanks,” Rhen said, bobbing his head to the hard-working man. He offered one to Arannet but she politely declined, a grimace on her petite face. Rhen shrugged and dug into the meat, continuing on his way to the train station. It was salty to hide the bitter taste of gamy monster flesh, but it was decent enough.

Arannet paid her way with Desedra currency from her id syntial at the train station and Rhen dropped some extra marks again. Arannet scowled at his behavior and Rhen wasn’t sure if it perturbed her or confused her, but either way was fun for him. He knew the ticket attendant would take the extra and put it to good use for themselves. Rhen knew they were all underpaid, and just wanted to offer a reprieve from the usual grind for people. Even if they just turned around and used it on drinks, or drugs, or whatever else distracted them from their grind, it would help ease the pain of their lives.

Rhen found a two-seater room like the one he’d shared with Jakira not long before and they got situated. They were quiet for a while, and Arannet opened her mouth as if to say something a few times, then finally spit it out after they got going. “Did you come straight from battle?”

“I did. The request from the D.O.G. said with haste so, I made haste.”

“I see. Very respectful of you,” she said, looking a little green.

“You’re free to sit in your own cabin if my presence is so disgusting,” Rhen offered spitefully.

She flustered. “That’s not it... I, uhm, I get train sick.”

Her skin was getting pale and Rhen felt a tug of pity.

“Switch me,” he said, then got up and opened the window.

Arannet sat close to the window and the breeze blew against her face, returning red to her cheeks. She sighed and leaned her head against the wall. “Thank you.”

The journey was quiet and Rhen wondered for a while if she’d nodded off. Good. She was going to need her energy for the hike into the forest. Rhen nodded off as well, because in no time at all, he was jerked awake by the three-horn-hoot arrival to Yu.

They stepped off the train platform onto the horse-excrement dotted dirt road into Yu city. Rhen spared a sideways glance at her face. It was exactly what he’d hoped for and more. Horror. Sheer horror. She’d never been outside of Desedra, never went without electricity and clean water. She’d never had a taste of a real working life. This would be fun.

“Straight to the dungeon, then?” Rhen asked.

The sun was getting low. At the pace Arannet was sure to keep, they wouldn’t be home until well after sundown.

“How much farther?”

“About four miles that way,” Rhen said, pointing to the trail leading out the south side of town into the forest. “It’s a lovely walk, not too many defilers.”

“Defilers?!” she practically shrieked.

The others stepping off the platform turned back to look at her.

She swallowed hard and smoothed down her slacks nervously. “There’re monsters in the forest?”

Rhen nodded. “I had to defeat one before getting into the dungeon. It’s not too likely there’ll be another since there’s been so much activity there recently.”

“Should we maybe get an escort?”

Rhen pulled his crescent blades from the holsters at his hips and whirled them about theatrically. “I think I’ve got it.”

She was looking pale again.

Rhen smiled kindly. “I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise. Though, you did save an anima profile before you left, right?”

Arannet turned white. “Not for weeks…”

“Well, let’s be extra careful on our way there. Come on.” Rhen headed down the slope toward town and Arannet followed on wobbly legs.

Rhen stopped at Gwhan’s on his way and grabbed a pair of used, simple leather boots for Arannet. She looked at the weathered leather with disdain, but donned the boots, storing her petite black heels in her enon ring. Rhen was going to need to get himself one of those…

“And here’s your order, Mr. Zephitzss,” Gwhan hissed, pulling the necklace from her pocket.

Rhen held the shiny crystal up to his eyes, looking to the sliver of horn within. Jakira’s promise. “Thank you, it’s perfect.” He looped it over his head and tucked it safely under his shirt. He paid a nice premium for letting them in well past closing time.

They pressed on for the path out of town. When they reached the tall, white waiting tree, Arannet requested a break. She was sweating, and her tight bun was falling apart. Seemed like she’d never been outside in her life.

Rhen offered her his waterskin. She drank from it with a puckered expression but reserved her comments. They continued, Arannet tripping over sticks and rocks that Rhen easily dodged. It was getting pretty dark, though…

He sucked down a deep breath. “Light,” he whispered, and exhaled hard.

The light spell filled up the space with sparkling silver and dispersed into the forest.

“Wow,” Arannet breathed, her eyes glittering.

The light settled on the plants and gave them enough illumination to go on another few hundred feet. Rhen blew out bursts of light here and there to keep the path bright enough so Arannet could keep pace with his very slow walk.

After an hour and a half of stopping, tripping, helping her up, and sniffling about skinned knees, they made it to the charred ashen wasteland.

Arannet gasped with horror. Rhen smirked to himself. He’d have a little more fun.

“Oh no… My inn!”