Bustling with life and overwhelmingly noisy, people pushed past me as if blind to my presence. Squeezed and bumped, I struggled to stay close to my two companions. They walked on, unfazed and unbothered by the buzzing townsfolk, as even the most absent-minded fool had enough sense to stay clear of a near giant and a cloaked mystic. Though I had been looking around in wide-eyed wonder at everything and everyone while passing through the gate, the town became gradually less impressive the deeper inside we went. The smell of horse droppings and sewage fumes lingered, and did not add much to the sweat and musk of milling townsfolk. All in all, a disappointment.

"Where are we going?" I nearly shouted, as to not get drowned out by the scrambling of wagons, and the desperate, fanatical haggling of merchants resounding all around.

But my question fell on deaf ears. Luckily, to my relief, the crowd began to part as we neared a large tavern-like building, two stories tall, and with a steady stream of haggard travelers coming and going. Here, the smells were less prominent, the people more controlled, and the road wider.

I dodged out of the way of a man and the screaming mule he had in tow, before stumbling on the cobblestone straight into Urax, who stood unbothered. He flung the thick, oaken door to the tavern open, and barely had we made it through before a woman's voice hailed us from across the room with explosive vigor.

"Urax, din think we'd see ya furly nog fer least a few dayer!" she blared.

Pushing aside a few drunken thugs, the woman came tumbling with the grace of a drunken ox. Urax laughed deeply, the dark cloud hanging over his head since the morning seemingly blown away. He met her with arms stretched wide, and she responded by reaching bulging arms around him in a crushing hug. She didn't quite reach his height, and lacked some of his width at the shoulders; still, she was without a doubt the largest woman I'd ever seen.

"My cousin!" he introduced proudly. "Biggest drinker in all of Karham, and the second best fighter around!"

I could feel an inadvertent smile sneak its way across my face.

"Who could have guessed..." I mumbled, perhaps a bit too sarcastically, and apparently loud enough for Urax to hear, because he grunted in return.

"Yarelic sure has rubbed off on you quickly, lad," before reaching out and rustling my hair.

"What a cute lil one!" The woman cried out with delight. "Gifts already, me birthin' day ain't in 'nother moon!"

She took a steady grasp of my hair and lifted my face up into the dim light coming from one of the glowing braziers hanging nearby.

"Anyone fucked ye proper yet, boy?" she asked while staring straight into my eyes with an honesty that left me both flustered and shaken.

"N...no!" I stuttered, blood shooting to my ears at a rapid pace.

Urax laughed. "Watch it, lad, or Harra here is going to eat you up whole and spit out the bones!"

Still feeling the heat radiate from my cheeks, I weaseled my way out of her grip and looked to Yarelic for guidance, but he cared little for my predicament.

"Mind if I give 'im a washin'?" She slurred, seemingly dead set on using me for some twisted fun. "He be aw...awfully dusty the whelp!"

To my relief, Urax ignored her drunken ramble and boorishly led her towards an unoccupied table while shouting for ale. Once he'd sat down, and rested his heavy axe and backpack on the floor, he reached within, bringing out a small sack crusted with dried blood. He chucked the sack to me and decidedly pointed at Yarelic, before turning his attention towards his cousin and the approaching tray of ale.

I followed Yarelic closely through the tavern, the air filled with smoke and brawn; the stench of wet leather and metal permeating throughout. We walked up the stairs, past a girl close to my own age, dangling her feet from the railing. Her face, worn and skeletal, her eyes hollow as she silently observed the lively rabble making a ruckus below. She looked up at me as I passed, a fleeting glint of hope in her eyes, then her gaze fell onto my muddied, and tattered clothing. She sighed and resumed her desolate watch, the feeling washed from her face. I turned to look at her once more before turning a corner, her face, harrowed as it was, unmistakably pretty.

There were rooms on both sides of a long corridor, but Yarelic ignored each one until he got to the last door at the end. Inside, partly hidden by mountains of books and sheets of parchment, scribbling away at a document, sat an elderly man. His hooked nose had stains of ink on it, I noted, as he looked up cross-eyed, from behind the piles.

"What now?" He grumbled. "Oh, it's you."

He didn't bother to stop his scribbling as one eye kept watch over his work, while the other turned to look at us.

"Didn't expect you back quite so soon, Yarelic. A good hunt I take it, unless the big man's finally gotten himself killed?"

With a nod and subtle motion of the hand from Yarelic, I reached to place the bag at the desk, but halted myself at the last moment as the old man gave off an angry hiss.

"Atata... boy! Not on top of my work!" He hastily cleared some space at one side and slapped a bony hand against the dark wood. "Not rich in thought, this serf of yours," he grumbled as I handed him the bloodied sack. With a rustling, he took out a few partly dried bundles of flesh and hair, still moist with blood.

"And I see Urax hasn't improved his cutting either, messy as always!"

He inspected each ear as he took them out from the sack, counting them and taking short notes with his feather pen, ever so often dipping it in a small, black jar.

"Thirty-seven... that's eighteen males, and a half, what happened, one made off with half its head amiss? Oh, never mind there it was, stuck to the bottom. Nineteen it is then!"

The old man took a final note, scribbled something on a piece of parchment, then carefully melted a few drops of red wax atop the note. He pressed a large ring with an intricate pattern into the hot wax, before reaching it towards me.

"This is for your master!" He said, one eye focused on me, while the other watched as he put the ears back into the pouch.

"The young one is not a servant, but a traveler and a fledgling of the arts..." Yarelic interjected.

The old man scoffed. "Sure doesn't look like much more than a serf to me. Since when did you take interest in street rats?"

Yarelic ignored the question while I handed him the note, but once he spoke, he sounded irritated.

"Barazar, considering the rattar-ilk we disposed of, along with their nest, there should be another twenty silver on here. I only see it marked to an even forty!"

The old man blinked, both his eyes turning to Yarelic. "Well, there was no mention of a nest, nor proof in that bag of yours!" he retorted, voice raised and nose twitching. "A few heads of their young should have sufficed!"

Yarelic didn't say anything, instead, as the old man had half risen from his chair in agitation, a blade of ice shot through the room and neatly burrowed its rounded tip in the wooden shutter behind.

"I do not sink to levels of such degree," the words escaped Yarelic, muffled through cloth and gritted teeth while the familiar blue encircled his cloak.

Barazar's wrinkly and already pale face turned ghostly white, and he slowly sat back down while one eye twitched, tried and failed to look back at the icicle behind him.

"Always about the silver with you! Can't an old man get a moment of tranquility once in a damned while?" He slammed his aged fist into the desk in protest before continuing. "I can't pay out without proof, but for old times sake, I can waive the kid's registration fee with the guild. You do intend for him to join us, I presume?"

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He quickly put together a new note, stamped it, and reached it towards me. Yarelic scoffed and the blue subsided. I handed him the new note and he sighed.

"And a room for the night, on the house."

The old man didn't reply, but simply waved for us to leave "atata...", and once we had closed the door behind us, I could hear angry voices from the other side, as if the old man was talking to someone.

"Who was he?" I asked as we headed back through the corridor, a tiny sting of disappointment as I noted that the girl in the staircase was nowhere to be seen.

"Barazar?" he replied. "He's our guildmaster and treasurer, and as greedy and nit-picky as they come."

"And what was it that he called me, a serf?"

Yarelic chuckled. "Don't mind that senile grump, a misunderstanding that's all..." He took a good look at me from head to toe before we continued down into the hall. "But you sure could do with a bath and some new clothes."

We passed by drunkards and small groups engaged in deep discussion. I could see Urax and his cousin cheering in the midst of a rowdy bunch, but we passed by them as well, to get to the bar. Well there, Yarelic spoke to a rotund man who I presumed to be the innkeeper, and after a conversation involving the words grump, room, and bath, the man gave us a quick nod and sent a barmaid hurrying up the stairs. I was instructed to follow.

Her quick steps led me back up to the second floor and to one of the many doors lining the corridor. She handed me a key and told me to wait inside as she would be right back with hot water. But while she disappeared around the corner, and I put the key inside the lock, a voice reached me from behind. I jumped with surprise as just a moment ago the space had echoed empty.

"Ssuch an easy prey. Left to your own accord sso soon?"

The woman that spoke had short brown hair almost as dark as mine, though most of it was hidden by the black cowl she wore. Dark, softened leather tightly fitted around a slender figure, and knives at her sides, her steps completely soundless as she approached.

"Sso what has gotten into old bones, taking in a whelp like yourself?"

I assumed she was referring to Yarelic, but even though she spoke in a soft, friendly manner, something felt off about her and I hesitated.

"Cat got your tongue?" She snickered, clearly enjoying herself, but as I could feel a light heat climb up my cheeks, I forced out a response.

"He is my teacher... in the arts," I added.

Her curiosity seemed tickled further, because she blinked with surprise and tilted her head.

"Sso he wasn't joking? Not that one thought he ever could... joke that iss."

She smiled, an alluringly warm smile, as she reached out a hand towards me.

"Sseeing as you'll be one of us soon, the name is Jalany..."

I answered the handshake and awkwardly replied, "Euran," with a quick bow.

"And he does have mannerss, who would have thought?"

She gave off a chiming laugh and stepped towards the stairs.

"Ssee you around, Euran," she said before turning around, but as she did, I noticed a small rounded hole in her cowl, just by the neck. Then between me glancing at the lock and then back to where she had stood, she was gone.

It's just one strange person after the other, I mumbled as I turned the key and went inside.

The room was simple, four beds, one in each corner. A small table and a chair by the covered window, and on one end, next to an unlit fireplace, sat a wooden tub. Guess that's where I'm going, I thought to myself, noting how I looked forward to ridding myself from the many layers of grime that had built up within my very soul. Even with the occasional splash from the rill, dirt had seeped in and nested deep.

The maid soon returned with two large copper buckets of steaming water, and after emptying them in the tub and starting the fireplace, she left me a small brown soap and a towel, before leaving with rapid steps. Mid bath, as I sat in the warm water, vigorously scrubbing my hair, I heard the door open and close. Blinded by the soap, I assumed the maid had returned, but I was without clothes and had preferred to remain alone.

"I'm not dressed!" I called out, splashing water in my face to rid my eyes of stinging bubbles.

"I don't mind," a voice answered with a giggle, but it belonged not to the maid, this was a girl speaking.

Finally rinsing my eyes from soap, I peered around to see my visitor. Brazenly studying me from one of the beds, sat the girl from the stairs.

"So you're not a serf then?" She asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

"I... what, no, I don't think so?" I answered confused.

She rolled her eyes at my response, then spoke again. "I thought you were, you were awfully dirty you know."

I tried my best to stay covered in the shallow tub, and answered with a short - "It was a long trip," before throwing a question back at the girl.

"What are you doing in my room?"

She looked almost surprised by the words, but jumped off the bed, my towel in hand.

"Jalany said you ogled her like a calf longing to suckle his mother, and could use the company."

Baffled by what she had said, images in my head of swaying hips and light steps, made themselves reminded, and I blushed greatly.

"I never—" but she interrupted me before I could defend myself.

"I'm not as much woman as she, but I am adept enough to help your..." she leaned closer and looked into the tub, and I could feel myself blush even further, my face taking on a deep crimson hue, "...cravings."

"Enough!" A stern voice interjected. It was the maid who had just returned, and she put a quick stop to the girl's harassment. "Give him the towel Mali, and leave him to his bath. He has no silver for you anyway!"

The girl's eyes shifted empty, and she shrugged.

"I was just goin' to give him a quick tug, he's bound to find some coin sooner or later around here."

"Door, NOW!" The maid ushered the girl out the room and promptly slammed the door behind her. "I'm sorry, she has bad manners about her, that one, here..."

She placed a pair of clean garments, brown, simple and neatly folded, on the bed. I hadn't even noticed that my own had gone missing, but that was of little concern. Once the maid had excused herself, I hastily dried and dressed myself, feeling refreshed and clean for the first time in what felt like forever. A lingering thought about the promise of 'a tug' nudged at the edge of my mind, but I did my best to push it away, traces of heat still on my cheeks.

I pushed the heavy shutters, blocking the window, open and let the evening breeze in. Staring out across the roofs and the calming streets around, only a few nearby buildings stood tall above the others. But lit by moonlight and torches in tandem, something arose at the eastern edge, like a mountain of heavy rock. Whoever lives there sure isn't a farmer, I reasoned, as I dwelled on the grand outline. Somewhere in the distant dark, a dog barked, before a ruckus broke out followed by whining and then silence. Earlier it had not seemed like much more than a chaotic mess of people and houses, but from above, the sprawling town of Karham filled me with a sense of awe and wonder. Just recently, I had been a farm boy, a slave to my father's will, a subject of ignorance and despise. Already had I begun to feel things change, the scales of faith shifting with my every step. Again, the image of tightly fitted leather nestled its way in to interrupt my pondering, and I shook my head to clear myself of them.

"I didn't look that much," I muttered.

A hard knock on the door stole away my attention.

"Open up, lad!" Urax bellowed from outside, and I rushed over to turn the key.

Into the room staggered a visibly drunken oaf, shouldered by Yarelic, who fought with all his strength to keep the big man at balance. I quickly gave him a hand, and together we managed to lead Urax into one of the beds, into which he fell like an axed tree.

"What about his things?" I asked as loud snores instantly began streaming through the drunken one's beard.

"Don't mind it, young one, I'll get them. You go rest." Yarelic replied.

It was a welcome suggestion as I felt the day's events wash over me. And no sooner had I put my head to the straw-filled beddings, before sleep took me.

Silky curves, thinly veiled, danced in the void as I watched with great interest. The sweet smell of honey dripped from a non-existent roof and filled my being with curiosity, an enticing desire to lift the veil and see what treasures lay hidden within.

"You really should think about something else..." a critical voice resounded throughout the dark landscape, as I stilled my raised hand. "I know your body is just beginning to mature, but is it truly all that interests you?"

I could sense someone watching me as the alluring imagery dissipated into nothingness. A vague shape, and a faint voice like the whistle of the wind, or bells ringing in the distance.

"Who are you?" I asked, squinting to get a closer look. "Where is this?"

The figure remained unrecognizable, veiled in black, but in its lap lay a familiar creature. Cat looked up, her yellow eyes like little stars in the dark, and with a soft meow she began to purr. It filled the space around me with warmth, resounded inside my head as I tried to speak, attempting to again ask the figure for answers. But I could not get a word out, instead 'it' continued.

"Don't worry, I take good care of her, though she does sneak out from time to time. Truly a naughty kitty aren't you!"

The figure petted Cat with great enthusiasm, buried elegant fingers within the black fur in cheerful bliss.

"You shouldn't be here, I shouldn't let you in, but the living make me..." The figure stopped to look up, and I could see long silvery hair fall from underneath a hood, within which appeared a face so divine it stole my breath away, and threatened to stop the beat of my heart in an instant, "...curious, so very, curious!"

Cat meowed again, and the echo bounced endlessly into the forever dark around us before I felt myself fall, deeper, and deeper still.