Bessie was bold, Bessie was brilliant, and above all, Bessie meant business. However, she hit a double brick wall in the guards for gaining admission to the gold section, which we'd concluded was the logical next step for finding an appropriate focus. Not even flashing my gold coins worked, to my surprise, until I considered Skills existed like [Fool's Gold]. Then I privately found this quite fair.

Our leader was less sanguine regarding our effective shutout. "What is wrong with them? I thought they wanted to take our money! And no, we're not opening a bank account!"

"What a waste of time and money," Tom agreed.

She was still breathing heavily. "All right, that's it. We are going somewhere fun. Like, er, like... oh! The Auctionhouse!"

"What? Why?" I asked. How was that 'fun'?

"Because even we've heard of it! And we're already here."

Tom also felt intrigued, though he only gave a casual shrug. "Might as well."

Blake was too busy eavesdropping on other shoppers to offer an opinion. I could not see how this would be any more enjoyable than browsing mediocre knickknacks, but I just shook my head. "All right," I said, "But don't be deceived by cheap prices. They always start out low, but they don't stay that way."

"Rena," Bessie said, "Which of us is more used to managing our own money?"

I winced. "Sorry."

"You don't need to worry about us, all right? I know you mean well, but we're not fresh from the country here anymore. So relax, stop overthinking, and try and have a good time."

I bit back more unsolicited advice and followed... that is, from the front for efficiency. The semi-famous location -- the earliest Merchant's Guildhall had supposedly also been the first Auctionhouse -- was actually, at this time, rather... boring. I supposed we were meant to feel awe and excitement over the current top listings, but lacking any personal investment, I just saw dry tables of artifacts, names, and numbers. Perhaps I should be eagerly scrutinizing the signs boasting of notable events that'd taken place here, but I wasn't learning anything new and interesting. The greatest attention was lavished on framed illustrations of various important personages winning items for outrageous sums... but I was indifferent to strangers shopping.

The sole unfortunate exception commemorated Hellsfell's Contractor winning a Developing Core. I glared up at it, surprised he hadn't just taken what he wanted, but I supposed that notorious demon summoner pretended to behave in his own backyard. And after mentally condemning the Merchants, I realized they'd probably feared offending him.

So much for having a good time. Was I just terrible at this?

Blake had gone back to skulking in the shadows, I noticed, before Bessie waved us outside to reconvene without disturbing other visitors. I felt guiltily vindicated by her evident disappointment. "The stories make it all sound so exciting," she said, sighing, "But I guess there isn't always some fabulous event going on."

"Feels awkward," Tom said, "Like we're here early before the party."

"Maybe if we came over the holidays... oh, that reminds me! Blake, are you attending the Year-End party with Hannah's family?"

The loaded incredulity in his stare made me a little envious, honestly. He added redundantly: "No."

"Are you planning to sneak in?"

"Just don't get caught. Remember?" Bessie actually laughed. Was she encouraging his behavior? "Also, you realize invited guests normally dress up for these events?"

The unwelcome reminder gave us all pause. "I thought we were going in our armor?" Tom said. "You know, the friendly local adventurers hanging with the Artisans?"

"Are you hoping they'll take pity on your cheap armor?"

"All right," Bessie said, "I better talk to Hannah. We'll try not to embarrass her or ourselves too badly. Oh, so can Rena have your place?"

"Be my guest."

"I haven't decided yet if I'm attending," I said.

Blake sent me a pitying look like he didn't really believe me. "Where to next? Since this place was a bust."

There was a beat of silence. "Inova?" I suggested. Judging from the map, they took up nearly half the sixth floor, and in fact I strongly suspected they were basically the second half of 'Artifacts & Innovations.'

"I don't know if I want to see a whole lot of artifacts I can't afford right at this moment," Bessie said. "I mean, we just did that."

"And you really want a communication crystal," Tom said.

"Yes, I am just dying to get one, but gauntlets first! And can you imagine watching a scene on a play orb, and just when it's getting good... Replay!"

"If you want entertainment," Blake said, speaking slowly, "Why not try the Entertainment floor?"

We shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances. I said, "Because we will have to actually put down money?"

While Blake glared, Tom groaned. "You weren't supposed to spell it out like that!"

Predictably, we ended up on the ninth floor. Bessie was the first one out of the lift, her face brightening as she spun in place, taking in the sights. I was already feeling more excited when she said, "Ooh, mazes!"

'A*MAZE*N MAZES' took up a considerable frontage, facing off against an equally imposing 'BATTLE ARENA.' I said quickly, "Yes, mazes sound amazing."

Further down the rows, I could see a theater and airboat racing course. Nearer was a floor map alongside the full Guildhall map. But with the boys in agreement -- Blake wanted to avoid unproductively wandering the floor, admittedly a realistic possibility -- we headed in.

Both the outside and, as we entered, the inside walls were plastered with maze-related visuals. I was taken aback by the variety until reading some of the captions, whereupon I discovered the snapshots seemingly came from all around the world. 'Underwater Maze, Hurrica.' 'Monster Maze, Solarian Empire.' 'Wild Maze, Litia.' 'Warren Maze, Kingdom of Cats.' I was looking for the remaining two continents when a voice said: "Would you like to hear of our amazing mazes?"

Turning, I found only a single employee standing behind the massive and rather cluttered counter, though she was smiling cheerfully and sincerely as any Companion. Bessie beamed back at her. "Please!"

"We have three mazes here at Wilton." She gestured to three enlarged images behind her. The leftmost, which she first indicated, looked rather dark and spooky, like it had been carved into an underground cave system. "Think of the Challenge Maze as a timed obstacle course, testing challengers both mentally and physically. It can also be a great teamwork exercise."

"Do we fight real monsters?" Bessie asked.

"No, that would be against our safety regulations."

"But what of the Monster Maze?" I asked, not that I wanted to fight monsters.

"Ah, you mean in the Solarian Empire? We have specially trained handlers to supervise situations and an understanding with the local nobility. It's only a quick portal trip away if you're interested?" We shook our heads with varying degrees of regret. "Back to our Challenge Maze, you're lucky if you're interested today. We can only accommodate one challenge at a time, so it's often booked well in advance, but right now there's no one waiting after the current challenger comes out."

"Are the other mazes also limited to one at a time?" Tom asked.

"No. We don't limit the number of visitors into our Exploration Maze, which is our most popular with first-time maze-goers." She gestured to the middle illustration, depicting a miniature garden partially surrounded by greenery-covered climbing walls. "It's the largest, most scenically beautiful, and winds through the Guildhall; you can even sneak a peek into gold-- you know we're in silver? Oh, good. If you noticed tiny viewing windows in certain public areas, those might be for our Exploration Maze."

"So it's like an unguided tour of the Merchant's Guildhall?" Bessie said.

"No, I wouldn't say so. You can see many beautiful exhibits unique to the maze; the hope is that you'll find new beauty or ugliness around every corner, only some of which involves other areas of the Guildhall." She paused to take more questions, then continued: "Finally, the Meditation Maze has the most repeat visitors, is updated the most frequently, and is my personal favorite, though I don't recommend it for groups." The rightmost maze again looked like it'd been carved from rock but outdoors, with different striations on display and similar patterning on the floor. "It's intended for thoughtfulness and self-reflection. You're meant to walk it slowly, letting your feet take the twisting turns, your eyes wander the quirky views, and your mind ponder the changing words."

"Words?" I said.

"Like, hm, aha!" She snatched up a paper from the many scattered over the countertop and read: "Regret the past and the future, not the present."

When she set it down, Bessie leaned over to turn the page around and reread it. "That makes no sense. No offense."

I stared down at the calligraphed words too. Did she have [Scribe] or a similar Skill? "If it immediately made complete sense, would it still be worth contemplating?" she said. "You might find something that surprisingly resonates with you, or you might not. Those seeking to learn more of themselves are likelier to find it." I wondered if she was quoting something else. "All of our mazes -- again, the Challenge Maze, Exploration Maze, and Meditation Maze -- can be attempted cooperatively or separately. Do any of them appeal to you in particular?"

She looked each of us in the eye. Honestly, I thought all three sounded fantastic, but it might have been her sincere delivery that truly sold me. Possibly she was a former customer herself who started working here out of love for the mazes.

Bessie also looked around and said, "What do you think?"

"Pricing seems reasonable," Tom said, looking up from some brochure-like materials on the counter.

I nodded. "I'm for it."

"Better than wandering the whole floor," Blake said again.

"All right, so which maze? How about we each say the one we want?" Bessie said, and then added to nobody's surprise: "Challenge."

Tom shrugged. "I'm more interested in Exploration, but you said Challenge is normally hard to find an opening?"

"More like it varies unpredictably. It also has a strict time limit of one hour, if that affects your decision."

"Challenge," Blake said instantly.

Everybody looked at me. I wondered if I was supposed to advocate for the Meditation Maze. Shrugging, I agreed, "Challenge," giving us a consensus.

"You're decided? Wonderful, then that'll be one silver twenty for the four of you, or three large coppers each. If just one of you registers with the company, you can receive a ten-percent discount--"

I stepped forward eagerly. "Please sign me up."

My friends balked at the six measly pages of paperwork, which was why I'd volunteered myself. It felt odd to hold a pen in my hands when I'd grown so used to quills, but I hardly expected to be judged on my calligraphy in this case. As I was still filling out the forms, I couldn't help getting repeatedly distracted by other customers. First was a girl with her hair in purple pigtails, who walked right up to the counter and asked, "Is he out yet?" Hearing a negative, she smirked and said, "Put me down next. What? Who? Fine, never mind." She turned and glared at us before leaving.

Next, a couple strolled out from the Exploration Maze. They gave off such good vibes, so sweetly harmonious, I paused just to soak up the feelings. I almost wanted to ask to switch mazes.

Finally, a boy with spiky dark blond hair left the Challenge Maze radiating frustration. "Another one of those infernal riddles!"

I perked up as the assistant asked, "Want to talk about it?"

"My Escape Scroll can take only one other person, and I have to choose between somebody injured and maybe dying, somebody who's saved my life, and a Name I idolize. Who was I supposed to pick?"

"Sure you want to hear this right now? You don't want to think it over some more?"

He crossed his arms and glared. "I want to know the official answer."

"And complain if you don't like it, you mean. All right, since you asked, you're supposed to

give your Scroll to the person who saved your life, and ask them to take the injured person with them. Stay with the Name; maybe you can use this opportunity to meet your idol."

His boiling frustration subsided into simmering annoyance. Ducking my head, I refocused on my paperwork.

The assistant was alone again when I finished and approached. Smiling, she accepted the pages and looked them over with a perfunctory air before pausing. "You don't have a communication crystal? I assure you the company won't contact you unilaterally or give out your private information."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"I really don't have one," I said.

"But... how do you contact your friends?"

"We know where to find each other. It's been working out for us."

"Oh, I see, sorry," she said, still unable to hide her surprise. "You know Inova is offering old crystals for really cheap? I've seen them selling for a few large coppers, even."

"Thank you. I'll think about it." And I wasn't just saying that, either. We were paying as much for this one trip into a random maze! Wouldn't that money be better spent on reliable, reusable communication crystals?

As though she could hear what I was thinking, the woman gave me an awkward smile before calling out: "Everybody ready for the Challenge Maze? Oh!" She jumped and stared at Blake. "I didn't see you there. Right, well, please strap on these watches." She handed around bulky wristwatches that glowed an eerie green. "They'll keep track of your time and location and issue your challenge instructions. If you fail an ongoing one, your watch's light will turn off until it is finished. You can also use yours to contact me with a question, though keep in mind the timer will keep ticking and I'm limited in how much I can say. Finally, you can ask to exit early at any time."

She paused to check we'd all put on our watches properly and didn't seem confused, and continued: "About the challenges. These are randomized and unavoidable so long as you're on the right path. You will start off with a map of the maze, but you can also judge if you're on the right track by whether you encounter obstacles other than dead ends. You must pass challenges to move forward. If you fail one, you will be forced to take a different path, which might require you to pinpoint your new starting location and re-solve the maze... unless you're stumbling around without a guide. Any questions?"

She was clearly anxious to have us start already, since the maze had been sitting unused while I finished my paperwork, and a second person after the purple-haired pigtailed girl had asked after it. We shook our heads, and she smiled. "Great, in that case, I'm starting the time!" The next second our watch faces displayed '00:00' and then ticked up to '00:01.' She waved to the open entrance. "Finally, good luck! And most importantly, have fun!"

Stepping into the maze felt like entering a stage-prop version of Duni. Obviously, the first difference (or lack thereof) was the mana density, which was completely unchanged. Secondly, there were no lights in Duni and yet there was inexplicably enough to see by, whereas ominous torches flickered on the walls in sconces here. Thirdly, a map of the maze rested like sheet music at about eye level right in front of us. I hurried over and cast, "[Scribe]," replicating it.

"Oh, good idea!" Bessie said. She and I stared at my map while Tom and Blake eyed the original.

I was still hitting dead ends when Blake said, "Solved it." Under his direction, I carefully drew out our optimal path, and we started off. According to my watch, a whole minute had already passed!

On encountering our first obstacle, the last resemblance to Duni fell apart. We were faced with some sort of fake eye-monster across a narrow checkerboard space. Each of its eight eyes projected a beam of light that kept moving irregularly, sweeping back and forth, up and down, while a voice from our watches urged us to reach and hit its one vital weakness, its big red belly button, without any "fatal eye beams" landing on us.

Despite the rather comical obstacle, the challenge was real. Bessie failed first, boldly moving forward just as a beam swept back, and she leapt sideways into another light changing directions. She groaned as her watch stopped glowing and returned to the starting point and me. "Oh, at least give it a shot, Rena! This is just for fun, you know. Don't take it seriously."

I thought she felt awfully agitated for somebody having fun. But I still nodded and then gulped as another eye-beam passed not two feet from me. Blake had already reached the halfway point, and Tom wasn't far behind. Sighing, I stepped out and tried to stay as far from the moving lights as possible. The keyword here was 'tried.'

One suddenly swung in my direction, and I froze until it stopped right in front of me, reversing directions. I heard Bessie loudly breathe out in relief. See, she was taking it just as seriously! I scampered forward another few steps... and screeched to a halt as I saw a light heading directly for me, like an oncoming collision.

"Jump to the side!" Bessie shouted encouragements, and I made my legs move... just as the light glanced over me, turning off my watch light.

Bessie clapped me on the back as I trudged back. "Good try. Five coppers on Blake."

I glanced back and said, "No bet."

Sure enough, he pressed the button while Tom was still watching the lights swing around and before him warily. Thankfully, this particular challenge only required one success to pass, and we headed through the newly unlocked wall, which slid open with a faint rumbling sound.

I did equally poorly on the next physical challenges, but not all obstacles were like that. In one room we were shown three large potions labeled: 'Red,' 'Blue,' and 'Red/Blue.' The same voice gravely informed us these had all been mislabeled, but as the contents were volatile and resources tight, we would be allocated a single bottom-tier [Scry], or in other words allowed one peek into one bottle before we were expected to correct all three labels. "And good luck. Lives may depend upon your swift and accurate action."

Silence fell as we stared at the three stationary bottles, the pointer labeled 'Scry,' and the big red button we were supposed to press after swapping around the labels.

"Well," Tom said, "I think

we should obviously pick the Red/Blue, anyway, since it's the odd one out."

We all agreed and discovered the bottle's contents were blue.

"That's it, then!" I said. "This one must be

Blue and Red really Red/Blue, since it's mislabeled and can't be Blue."

Adjusting the labels accordingly, we pressed the button and beamed when the back wall slid open.

Though the trials were randomized, I couldn't help but notice the difficulty tended to increase as we overcame challenge after challenge. By now they were regularly requiring two or three successes to pass. One room required all of us to scale a tricky rope ladder with a tendency to flip us upside down, but I clung onto Blake's back and made it through.

Another required throwing balls through hoops to hit a moving (big red) button underneath, and we needed to succeed five times in under a minute. During the pre-timer countdown, Bessie coordinated us so we didn't foul up each other's shots and were in charge of different spread-out hoops, with Blake covering three to my one. After repeatedly aiming at the same hoop, I managed to occasionally land one in and just barely missed the button. I was so focused on my goal I had no idea who succeeded or how many times, only that we passed with time to spare.

"We need your help," the familiar voice said as we entered our next challenge room. "A time distortion field has taken over our station, centered on this room. We do not know how long a time-unit is, but we need you to measure out exactly forty-five time-units to save us all. Our only clues are the alien artifacts you see before you." We studied... some kind of rope? It was formed from separate links of different lengths and colors strung together recognizably like a rope, anyway. "Set one end of either artifact alight and it will burn for exactly sixty time-units. When it's finished burning should be unmistakable. Be warned the two artifacts do not burn evenly or identically. Using only the objects in this room, the two artifacts and lighter, please press the button for exactly forty-five time-units."

Yes, there was once again a big red button.

"What kind of bizarre riddle is this?" Bessie said. "Can't we just burn one of those things three-fourths through?"

"They don't burn evenly," I reminded her.

"Or I know! Burn one and measure the seconds, then use three-fourths of that!"

I stared at her in astonishment. "That could work? Except if it doesn't divide by four, do we round up or down?"

"Bigger problem," Tom said. "Our watches stopped showing seconds."

We stared, and sure enough, mine was showing '28:EE.' "What, is that supposed to be because of the 'time dilation field'?" Bessie said. "Whatever, we could still count out the seconds?"

"I don't think that's how the riddle is supposed to be solved," I protested.

"Doesn't matter so long as it works," Blake said. "But it isn't that easy to count time perfectly. You don't happen to know a cantrip or something?"

"There is one," I admitted. "[Stopwatch]. But it's so frivolous even I never bothered to learn it, so I would need to draw the casting circle and... don't you think it would be faster to solve this properly? We're trying to obtain forty-five from sixty. I think the first step is realizing

we can burn an artifact from both ends, which should finish in exactly thirty time-units."

"Oh! You're right," Bessie said excitedly, "We're practically halfway there already!"

"Second clue," Tom said.

"Why are there two ropes?"

Yes, why? Unless we were supposed to use the thirty time-units from the first artifact for the second, somehow?

My eyes widened. "I think I have it!

We light both ends of one artifact and one end of the other. Then after thirty time-units have passed, when the first artifact finishes burning, we light the other end for the remaining artifact so it burns twice as fast. It should burn in total for exactly forty-five time-units."

So we did just that. The ropes burned prettily like sparklers, and when they finished they made a flashy little display that was indeed unmistakable. Tom pressed and depressed the big red button as agreed, and after a pause in which we held our breaths, the wall slid aside, which was as good as victory bells. Except, of course, up ahead was likely yet another challenge.

Finally exiting the maze, I felt more exhausted than exhilarated, but Bessie ran right up to the counter, exclaiming: "We did it! Thirty-four minutes!" and proudly brandishing her watch as proof.

Our assistant laughed. "I see that. Congratulations! You came close to making this week's records, and your first time too!"

"Records?" Bessie said. "We didn't win?"

Tom pointed out a displayed time I'd ignored earlier for its absurdity: 16:58. "You don't mean that?"

"Oh, no, that's the standing record for the whole year. Here we are." She showed us a page with ten times printed, ranging from 28:47 to 32:03. "And it's ready for you now."

The same spiky-haired boy from earlier was there, eyeing us with competitive interest. His watch lit up, and he hurriedly brushed past us to reenter the maze we'd just left.

"He must be jealous. You made all the challenges! And didn't get turned around at all?"

Bessie was staring after him. "You mean other people go in there multiple times?"

"Of course. Some people have even gained Skills for their efforts."

"Wow. Do you think..."

"No, Bessie," Tom said. "Didn't you say you can manage your own money?"

She stuck her tongue out, and I giggled. This was such a new and... fun... experience, I couldn't help thinking she was probably right. I should give different things a chance, maybe even parties.

Meanwhile, the saleswoman wasn't done making money off us. "Would you like a souvenir? How about a picture?" She showed us different options, including two laminated drawings that strangely inspired a burst of hopefulness from her.

They were remarkably similar but different, depicting the same team and same background, except that in between images a beautician might have worked them over and directed their poses. In other words, one seemed more honest and the other more flattering. My breath caught. Weren't we supposed to prefer the unvarnished truth? But a bit of makeup wasn't misrepresentation... was it? It felt like another labyrinthine challenge, a hard choice to determine our own fundamental characters...

"The second is prettier," Bessie said. "What do you fellows think?"

...or maybe I was overthinking it. "How much do these cost?" Tom asked.

"Twenty-five coppers for the first, thirty for the second, plus an extra eight per copy. Since you're registered, you have a ten percent discount. And the customary reward for making the records is another ten off, which you didn't quite make, but I can offer you a total of fifteen percent off if you pick the second."

Bessie looked at her askance. "But not the first?"

"That one's artifact generated." She said with an attempt at casualness, "I drew the second."

"Oh, you should have said!" Bessie beamed. "Of course we want your personal drawing." She even added the attendant's name, which I didn't remember ever hearing.

But I was a little distracted. "Why are the copies so expensive? Can't I just use [Scribe]?"

"Sure you could, but you wouldn't have this quality stick-pic."

Our assistant demonstrated by pulling the opposite ends of a laminated drawing like she was trying to stretch it and flattening it to the wall, where it stayed. After pressing inwards on those same opposite ends, the picture came right off, and she slid it easily across the table for us to inspect. I ran a finger over the smooth surface and watched my friends marvel at the lack of stickiness. Blake was even eyeing and poking it with clear suspicion of a trick.

Smiling to herself, she continued, "It also works on your shirt, bag, towel, or wherever. It'll eventually stop sticking so cleanly, especially if you keep unsticking and re-sticking it, but it makes for a great souvenir in my opinion."

We agreed, so the next step was deciding on a background, which could be anything from the maze map we'd used as a guide to a close-up view of us tackling a challenge. We could of course pick more than one... if we were willing to pay extra. (We weren't.) I was pleasantly surprised by Blake's continuing agreeableness, but I supposed this must be an even rarer experience for him, or possibly he counted a souvenir as part of his 'penance.'

As we were reviewing our options, a sombre woman with her hair in a long side braid walked up to the counter as though we weren't there. "Seven, please."

We watched in confusion as the attendant offered her two handfuls of pebbles. Dropping these into her large front pockets, she headed into the Meditation Maze without another word.

"She didn't pay?" Bessie said.

"She has an annual membership. And before you ask, those don't cover the Challenge Maze, though they do offer a steep discount."

"And the stones?"

"Some people sometimes carry them to represent troubles or thoughts weighing on them. Bowls are set along the path to set stones down or pick up more, as can happen during self-reflection."

Blinking, I glanced after the evidently burdened woman. I was glad we'd chosen the Challenge Maze; I could see why that path was better walked alone.

In the end, we decided on a setting where we seemingly stood atop one of the walls with more of the maze spread out into the background. "[Copy Art: Sketching]." Our artist's fingers flew over the page, and in less than ten seconds she'd rendered a rough representation exactly as requested, finishing by printing our completion time on the bottom. "How's this?"

We stared down at ourselves. It was the whole team, all except... "What's wrong?"

I blinked up at Bessie, who'd been watching us more than the picture. "Um, I'm just a little worried Hannah will feel left out."

She considered this before turning back to our assistant. "Do you mind adding, like, a silhouette of our friend? She's an archer, short hair. So, for example..."

The other woman was already nodding and agreeing while I stared at Bessie in amazement. How did she always do that? Just think to ask people for help and make it seem so simple?

Soon we had an additional archer-like shape in the background atop a distant maze wall. Then with our consent, our artist moved onto the actual illustration. "[Copy Art: Drawing]."

We watched, uniformly mesmerized, as the details took shape before our very eyes. At one point, another visitor approached the counter, and it was like we were all released from a spell, blinking and looking around before the person was dealt with and the drawing resumed.

I loved seeing each of the details appear one by one: the confident sparkle in Bessie's eyes, Tom's broad chest and grin, Blake's murky features under his hood. And my smile, sweet and a little shy. She not only captured us physically (and flatteringly), she conveyed a sense of our personalities, captured in an unmistakably happy moment. There was just a hint of Blake's quirked lips, or maybe that was a trick of the shadows. And Hannah seemed mysterious and elusive, crouched with her quiver of arrows visible against her silhouette, fitting right in with the atmospheric faux-dungeon maze background... I could even fancy Duni was represented in the picture.

Our artist finished and took a moment to breathe, feeling a flutter of nervousness. "What do you think?"

Bessie looked up with a smile. "And an extra copy, please."

----------------------------------------

Late that night, when I meant to retire to bed, I instead found myself thinking of Bessie's boldness. She didn't always succeed, but she never failed to impress me. And her advice lingered in my mind.

With a word from a certain merchant, even the platinum doors could be opened to us... and she made it sound so simple, reaching out to him. My feelings regarding him were turbulent, to say the least, but the act of communication could be easy.

I doubted he'd spared me a single significant thought in return. And why would he? No, despite Bessie's optimism, it was extremely unlikely he would respond to anything from the likes of me, not when I no longer seemed likely to be useful to him. But in order to check, he'd have to skim my missive before tossing it away. And the thought of inconveniencing him that slightest bit made me simultaneously want to cringe in shame and crow in delight.

Lowering my shaking quill, I sighed to myself. Returning to the Merchant's Guildhall had made old memories feel fresh. My parchment was still blank. A clean slate. A forfeit.

It was generally better to do anything than nothing, but I couldn't be sure this was one of those times. It felt awfully specific to me. Surely, I could have summoned my courage if he were a perfect stranger, if I couldn't so easily imagine the exact pinch between his brows as he frowned at unwanted correspondence, the disappointed flicker when yet again somebody failed to meet his expectations. Perhaps I really ought to retreat back into the sweet simplicity of my books... even if that was the opposite of what Bessie would do.

What if? Such dangerous thoughts rarely led anywhere responsible. He was a powerful person I didn't dare offend. Still. What if...?

I looked at today's takeaway picture, staring down at my smiling face beside friends with a backdrop almost seeming to mock the horror of dungeons. Perhaps I needn't send him a straightforward request. Regret the past and future, right? But not the present. Copying the image, I turned and wrote on its Scribed-paper back. Surely he wouldn't mind a personal update. And I could casually slip in I was searching for a focus, made difficult by my [Advanced Appraisal]... yes. If anything, I thought my attempt at subtlety would amuse him. He'd probably smile to see my impromptu postcard before binning it, but he would be a little proud of me.

Even better, I was proud of myself. No more time for regrets. Standing, I went to send my mail, to deliberately reach back to my old life for the first time... to continue walking forward with my head held high into the new.