There was something strange in the city of Noremion, Yovan just couldn't put his finger on what. Noremion, "the White City", was living up to its name. Buildings were made out of limestone, and even what people called slums were made of piled-up white rocks. In the distance, snow-covered mountains dominated the view. What disturbed the overbearing image, were the dull, gray clouds that never seemed to move anywhere, just exist in the sky above. There were fewer people than in Kamenar or Azunvale. None seemed to mind the skeletal guards posted everywhere, but everyone seemed to avoid four five-meter tall flesh golems standing still on the square.

The atmosphere was certainly unsettling, but that wasn't the reason Yovan was getting under his skin. He shook off the discomfort and patted his purse. He still had one gold, three silver, and seven copper coins. He never had this much money, so he felt very uneasy with it. He should find a good teacher to open up one of his exoaperions. Without one he could just cast spells in melee range. Which was fine when he just sneaked around everywhere but now he needed to fight dangerous enemies, so more range and power were essential. He already had one air endoaperion, and he wasn't sure if he should develop another air essence or maybe some other. The benefit of another air essence is that he would have full control over his air spells. On the other hand, if he chose fire for his exoaperion, he would have full control over spells that are a mix of air and fire, but his air spells would still have a short range, and he wouldn't be able to target his new fire spells without an endoaperion.

Maybe he was overthinking all this. If he manages to find a great air magic teacher he'll develop that, if he finds someone who can teach him fire or water, he will use that instead. He was in too of a precarious position to be choosy. The only essence he shouldn't develop was earth since it was antipode to his air essence. Hunger interrupted his thoughts. Ordinary, mundane hunger he almost welcomed as it reminded him he was still human. He approached the food stalls and started browsing what to buy when he noticed the merchant watching him suspiciously under his eye. He left and purchased some eggs from another merchant, he just preferred to avoid drama.

A foreboding sensation ran down his spine. Yovan looked around the marketplace and he noticed that all of the merchants were men. You would expect a couple of women if not some merchant's daughter should be helping her father. He always enjoyed flirting with them so this was an ugly surprise for him. Then it hit him. There were no women in the streets at all. Scratch that. There were old women. Women that could be his grandmothers were there, but no young women or even little girls. Yovan returned to the merchant from whom he made a purchase seconds ago.

"Excuse me, this might seem like a strange question, but why are there so few women here? And why are there no young women at all?"

The merchant raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"If you want to buy something buy but I don't talk to strangers about things in our country."

This was going to be a problem as if merchants didn't want to gossip then he wouldn't get an answer from ordinary people either. Unfazed, Yovan approached the next best place for rumors and gossip.

It was a huge inn. Almost every table was filled with guests, drinking, loudly talking, and exaggerating their stories with their hands. In the center, minstrels played their instruments in a soothing tone. The innkeeper was already watching him under his brows. This place really needs to learn a thing or two about hospitality. Yovan paced around the tables until he found what he was looking for. A lone, older man, drinking quietly and staring at the wall. If there was a place called "Abandoned" this man was the only resident. Yovan approached the table and sat on the opposite side of his target.

"Oh, man, this place is packed! Mind if I sit here with you."

"Don't care," grumbled the man.

Yovan motioned to the innkeeper and yelled to overpower the noise around.

"Innkeeper, please bring two beers for me and my friend over here!"

"I already have a beer."

"Yes, but it's almost empty. One should not wait for another round."

The drunk just looked away, not even grunting. The innkeeper appeared with two mugs of beer and placed them in front of the customers. Yovan paid and immediately grabbed his mug and took a large swig. After he stuffed his belly with liquid, he ahhed in satisfaction

"Sooo, the name's Yovan, I've just come here from Kamenar. Boy, are things crazy down there. Couldn't take it anymore so I decided to bolt. And since the Mentalist is now at war with the Warlock, my choice was pretty nonexistent."

The man finished his beer, took the second mug, and watched at the foam waning away. Yovan exhaled with slight frustration but put on a smile and continued.

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"This adventuring life isn't really for me. I was thinking about settling down, you know, get a wife, have some kids… A nice, quiet life. Do you know where I could meet some women my age?"

"Hah. You've picked the wrong place to settle down. Go to the Necromancer. He kidnaps women all the time. If you can free one everyone would hail you as a hero."

Yovan furrowed his brows at the remark. After crossing paths with the Warlock and the Mentalist, he expected another megalomaniac, still, this was strange.

"He kidnapped all of the women?"

"No, not all. But every time he noticed a woman he would take her away. People started locking away their daughters and wives so that the maniac wouldn't get his hands on them." His lower lip trembled slightly, then the man continued with the same voice. "My oldest, Rowana. He took her yesterday. Don't even know where he saw her."

"That's… I don't even know what to say. Why don't people rebel against him? I am getting sick of all of this."

The drunk grabbed Yovan around the collar and pulled him over the table. His spit rained down on Yovan's face as he yelled.

"Do you think you are the only smart-ass in the whole country? Have you seen those flesh golems at the square? From who do you think he made them? When we rebelled, the first in line finished inside those things. You go ahead and fight him if you think you can fare better."

The face across Yovan's changed. Like he suddenly realized the futility of yelling at this poor boy. The man released him and withdrew to his seat. A face of a man without faith or hope.

"It is a man's job to protect his children. If he can't do that, then what is he even for? She was to get married, give me grandchildren. And now she was taken by that sicko. I've even heard rumors that he kills them and then… And then he enjoys…"

Nobody in the tavern turned when sobbing and crying started. Like everyone knew the man's trouble and left him to grieve as if he was only one in the room. Yovan's face paled at the implication that was presented to him. The guy was a necromancer after all.

"I'm sure those are just exaggerations. When people are vile as that necromancer, people like to make up even more ridiculous things about them. It doesn't really make sense when you think about it."

But his words fell on deaf ears as the man cried into his hands. Yovan leaned back and shut up. Nothing he could say would make things better. So he did just that. Nothing. The man cried for ten minutes without stopping, and when his tears subdued, he grabbed his forehead and returned to his former, near-catatonic self.

"As you can see. You've picked the wrong place to start a family."

"I see. Well, I guess I'll have to search for some other place. But I need to become stronger for that. Do you know where I could find a teacher to develop magic skills?"

"All of the mages have been taken to the Necromancer's tower or someplace near. They said 'security risk'. I can only think of master Lutar. He was the Necromancer's teacher at first but they had a falling out in the meantime."

"Interesting…"

They continued talking for a little less than an hour. Yovan learned nothing of value, except for the man's name, Clain. Clain burst into tears once more, but by the end, he seemed better. With a new location in his hands, Yovan thanked the man and exited the inn.

Finding the right house was a tall order though. These rock houses all seemed the same to him. After trekking through the outskirts and banging on quite a few wrong doors, he had a feeling his luck has changed. It was a dirty, decrepit house, which no one would mistake for a residence of one of the greatest masters of air magic. But appearances can be deceiving. He knocked several times and a man his fifties opened the door.

"What?"

"Master Lutar?"

"Yes?"

"I am Yovan, I came here from Kamenar to learn about magic from you. Can I come in to discuss further?"

"No."

Yovan was stopped in his tracks after the unexpected answer. He coughed a couple of times, to regain composure and then continued.

"All right. I would like to become your apprentice and learn more about air magic. Would you consider taking a student?"

"No."

"I have money to pay."

"Still no. Is that all?"

Yovan twitched his lips up and down. This was a too long of a journey for him to just give up this easily.

"I've heard you had students before. And that you tutored no other than the Necromancer himself."

"And look where that led me. I wasn't only his teacher. I saved the psycho's life when he arrived in this world. Taught him everything he knows and this is how he repays me. Kidnapping women, killing anyone who dares to oppose him… I will never right the wrongs I've allowed to happen."

"I understand. But could you make an exception? I promise I will not become like him."

"No."

"I will not stop until I get a different word than 'No' from you."

"You are really annoying aren't you? Listen carefully, go kill a fire giant, and then we'll talk."

The door slammed in Yovan's face. Considering everything, it wasn't a surprising turn of events but at least he had a way in. Now, where could he find a fire giant?