Part of the information Anetta relayed to me, back in the woods, had to do with currency. As one might expect, the entire world of Galassia does not adhere to a universal system of coinage. In fact, the variety of currency across the world is far more extensive and complex than anything ever seen on Earth, whether in the present day or throughout any period of human history.

While many countries and private fiefdoms rely on coins made of precious metals, others use other valuable materials as their mediums of exchange. Like carved bones of magical beasts or even standardised measurements of rare and valuable spices. And that is before even considering the specialised currencies used among various societies of mages, who have little use for precious metals they can rip out of the earth with little effort.

At the heart of this intricate and multifaceted network of trade and currency is the Sovereign Coin Guild. This ancient and formidable organisation transcends national borders, acting as the linchpin that binds the diverse economies of Galassia into a cohesive whole. The guild plays a crucial role in regulating the standards for coinage, ensuring that every piece of currency—regardless of its place of origin—meets rigorous criteria of weight, purity, and authenticity.

Despite the broad and fascinating scope of knowledge I had gleaned from the ‘library’ in my head, much of it initially appeared to be little more than academic trivia. Yet, as with many things, there is valuable and immediately useful information buried beneath the surface of seemingly esoteric facts, waiting to be uncovered by those who know where to look.

One such insight involved the coins in my possession. The coins given to me by little Velisza were known as “Big Northern” coins, a regional currency that, despite its local origins, had been endorsed by the Sovereign Coin Guild. This endorsement ensured their acceptance not only in the Ekerian Kingdom but also in several neighbouring countries. The currency came in three denominations: copper Gildings, silver Neris, and golden Aureons.

As the highest denomination of currency in several kingdoms, Aureons were rarely seen and almost never used by common people. Strongly associated with the social elite, their use was virtually non-existent among the general populace. The strict control over their circulation, coupled with their immense value and their association with the wealthy and powerful, has granted them a semi-mythical status. Possessing even a single Aureon became a potent symbol of status, often flaunted in mundane transactions to assert one’s importance and prestige.

To me, as someone from modern Earth, holding what is essentially a very large bill didn’t seem particularly impressive. However, Jarkon’s open-mouthed, stunned expression suggested that there was a cultural significance to these coins that I, as an outsider, had failed to fully grasp, despite my knowledge of them.

“For the reasons I won’t go into, I have reached the charming village of Southbrook ahead of my entourage, so I will have to request that you provide me with the level of service I am accustomed to in their absence. I trust you will be up to the task?” I said.

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When he didn’t meet my gaze, I let an icy edge slip into my voice. “I also expect to be looked in the eye when spoken to, not ignored for a shiny bauble.’”

Yalla, that was standing a step behind Jarkon, still holding a tray containing a hunk of bread, and a couple of bowls, fidgeted uncomfortably at my assertive tone.

Jarkon flinched at my reprimand, visibly unsettled. He wavered awkwardly, unsure whether to maintain a half-bow or stand straight at attention. Although he met my gaze directly, his discomfort was palpable under my impassive stare. If his previous demeanour, when I was introduced as Vianna’s cousin, had been merely apologetic, now it was unmistakably servile.

“I…Um…So ya’ want Yalla ‘ere to take care of you Lord Ryder?” He said, gesturing at the young woman, his voice cracking a little.

When Jarkon saw the bowls of mush we were about to be served, his eyes widened in shock, as if they might pop out of his head. “What in blazes are you doing, girl?! Serving the young lord this slop?!” he scolded her sharply. “I specifically told you to bring the venison from the smokehouse! Radiant One, save me from—”

“Stop!” I thundered as he went to grab the terrified young witch by the shoulder.

He froze, his entire body locking in place, as if he’d been struck by an invisible force.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, cousin,” I spoke to Vianna, that was standing a step behind me, with her head bowed low. “But from the moment our host, and your prospective father-in-law accepted the payment, Yalla has entered my service. And will remain so for the duration of my stay.”

She nodded silently in reply.

I worried that Vianna's marks and bruises would be difficult to explain away. But, as it turned out, they needed no explanation at all. In terms of family hierarchy, Ekeria was somewhat reminiscent of medieval Europe—or most places in medieval times, really. Older male family members were not only allowed, but expected to maintain discipline within the family. Disciplining a female relative of marriageable age in a way that leaves marks is considered poor form, but accidents happen, and it’s apparently impolite to call attention to it. My modern sensibilities cringed at the entire concept, but if their backward customs worked in my favour, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Is she wrong?” I asked the innkeeper that was starting to work up a gross amount of nervous sweat.

“Wrong?” He gave me an uncertain smile. “’Course, she’s not wrong. Yalla’s at your disposal. I was just going to—”

“Leave? Yes?” I inquired, affecting a tone of haughty disdain at the prospect of his departure.

“Yes, yes, leave. I’ll go down to the smokehouse—”

“And while you’re at it, bring the girl’s instrument,” I added. “Also, don’t interrupt us; just knock and leave everything by the door. I still have much to discuss with my young cousin, and though it’s not even noon, this day has already been exhausting.”

“Yes, young lord,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly. He bowed deeply, his eyes darting nervously between the coin in his hand and the floor. Without another word, he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him with a final, soft click.

“God, you would have made a killing as an actor!” Anetta sounded thrilled. “You folded that ass nugget like a cheap suit.”

“Not really,” I said, frowning slightly. “It’s just a temporary fix. The clock is ticking, and there’s much to do. He’s momentarily dazzled by the gold and my little performance, but soon he’ll start poking holes in my story—probably faster than he would otherwise, considering how many gaps Vianna’s flimsy tale likely had.”

“So…what now?” Anetta asked.

“What does one normally do after recruiting the two most talented young witches in the area?” I prompted.

“Make magic happen?” She ventured.

I glanced from Vianna to Yalla. Vianna was shooting hopeful glances at her sister, barely holding herself back from approaching. I had made her promise to leave any dealings with Yalla to me, having proven she couldn’t reach her. Yet Vianna seemed to struggle with keeping her word.

On the other hand, Yalla stood frozen, as if a prey animal surrounded by predators, hoping against hope that she would remain unnoticed if she just stayed still enough.

“Yeah,” I said to Anetta. “I’ll need some real magic to make this work.”