The both of us reached the apartment building absolutely drenched.

Bonte wore a displeased expression. His fur stuck to his body and his ears pressed against his head to keep the water out. At one point he got an umbrella out to cover his mount's head from the weather.

I was smiling, enjoying the rain even though the water reached my asscrack.

The water was a little warm, too.

Sonya was just as always, the reptile not really caring about the weather. Her ears were the type that had a thick membrane as protection.

We dismounted after going into the rest post on the ground floor and used towels to dry out mounts.

Bonte took longer, the Untu being the size of a big car, though not as large as the Ratnak.

I waited for him while I playing with my over-sized lizard. I checked her feet, her tail, the spikes on her head, and her butt. All was good.

The booklet about Ratnaks insisted on checking the animal occasionally in case something got stuck between the scales that would require outside intervention.

They were a healthy red and she had no issues when moving around, which meant the scales were flexible and durable.

Still, a change of diet would be needed considering her increase in levels.

I retrieved the booklet and looked for the pages that specified diet and scale healthcare.

“What the fuck is adamurin?” I muttered after reading a few lines.

“An alloy,” the catboy replied, using a towel to dry the larger cat. “A mix of enchanted metals, more accurately.”

I nodded. “Is it expensive?” I inquired, looking at him.

Bonte shook his head. “Not really. You can get a dagger made of it for thirty silver,” he replied. “Cheap.”

“How much would a one hundred gram ball cost?” I asked next, storing the booklet and running my hands through my hair to get rid of water.

He looked at me, then at Sonya. He bit his lower lip and sucked air. “Yeah, that's gonna be a bit expensive.”

I pursed my lips and squeezed the water out of my hair. “Where can I... don't tell me Étienne sold them...” I sighed.

“Nah,” the catboy chuckled. “That market only sells finished goods. You should go to a smithy,” he continued, drying the Untu's paws. “And if I'm not wrong, you should put a request for it.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “How long would that take?”

“Not long if you pay the rushing fee,” he supplied.

I slowly nodded, then looked around the rest post. Time to delegate, I thought, looking for the staff people.

A few spots to the right, an Urkila Tigea was tending to an animal shaped like a dog with the outside of a porcupine.

So, I walked over.

The man noticed me and turned his head my way. “Dear guest,” he greeted me with a nod while brushing the animal's spines with a four pronged fork. “How can I be of service?”

[Canode, Lvl 139]

I appraised the animal and turned to him. “Sorry to bother you,” I started with a smile.

The cat man returned the smile. “Not at all,” he chuckled.

“Is there a place where I can ask someone to go buy something for me?” I inquired, retrieving a towel and wiping my face. “I'll be a bit busy in a minute and was wondering if such a service was available,” I explained.

He nodded, stood up, and turned to face the inside of the building, where the concierge was sitting behind the counter. “You can ask the concierge and they'll send someone to fulfill your request,” he supplied, pointing at the Tigea in question.

“Right, thanks,” I told him, feeling a bit silly for not asking the concierge first.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Happy to help,” he added and went back to brushing the animal.

I walked back to Sonya and turned to Bonte. “I'll go to the counter, be right back,” I informed him.

He nodded and continued drying the Untu.

I crossed the door towards the first ground of the hotel-like building and, in the instant before my foot touched the ground, changed my clothes to dry ones.

The concierge noticed me and gave me an appreciative smile and nod.

I waved and walked to her. “Hi,” I greeted.

“Yes, dear guest?” She probed with a polite smile.

I explained what I wanted and how fast I wanted it, then put a bag on the desk between us. It had 200 gold coins and the platinum plaque I got from Lady Dabrak in Riverfield inside, just in case it was more expensive than I thought.

The concierge woman nodded. “The latest will be ten in the morning, is that acceptable?” She inquired.

I nodded. “Thank you. By the way, we leave tomorrow,” I informed her.

She nodded. “Thank you for letting us know in advance.”

I winced. “Sorry about that,” I apologized.

The concierge's eyebrows knitted. “Pardon?”

“I forgot to inform you of our departure,” I specified.

The woman blinked a few times. “You did... just now,” she slowly said.

My own eyebrows knitted. “Yes, but I should have done it before, right?”

The woman slowly nodded, understanding the situation. “One day is more than enough to notify us, dear guest. Our policy is to inform us at least an hour before leaving. I believe the staff that received you should've said so.”

I wasn't paying attention, though, I thought, smiling at her. “Right, I think I forgot the specifics. Apologies.”

“Not at all,” the woman waved it away. “I understand how busy a guest such as yourself can be. Your Excellency had pressing matters to deal with, after all.”

I nodded. “Can I pay now or should I when we leave?”

The woman blinked again. “Pay?”

I tilted my head in absolute confusion. “Yes... for our stay,” I slowly explained.

“Gentleman Alastor covered that as Minister of Higher Relations,” the concierge supplied. “Was Your Excellency not informed?”

I squinted my eyes, trying to remember. All that came back was me signing the registration, but no talk about paying for the lodging. “I wasn't,” I muttered.

The woman's smile tightened and she nodded.

I smiled back and tapped the table twice to break the awkward silence. “Anyway, thank you for taking my request.”

She nodded.

I turned around and saw Bonte walking into the reception hall.

His fur was all puffed up and he let out a long sigh as he reached me. “Let's go, I need a proper dry,” he grumbled.

I chuckled and walked up the stairs with him.

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

“...because of this, Pakh'Ilde thought there existed a sort of dimension separate from ours but linked to it in which knowledge exists,” Lapia lectured me about E'er, sitting across the dining table in the apartment. “Through this dimension, stimuli travel and reach us, informing us of the effect our spells and skill have on our surroundings and other people. This theory would then be challenged by Hillis, a scholar rival of hers. Hillis opposed the existence of a different dimension in which stimuli traveled since the energy expenditure would be too high for us to not notice, and presented evidence of the lack of it. So, if stimuli does not go through a different dimension, and still reach us no matter our speed, location, and obstruction... how does it work?” The Elf gave me a look that suggested I had to think about it.

Fucking hell, I sighed in my mind. And children learn this in school? I wondered in amazement.

“Thing is,” Lapia continued. “Integration of skill is, to a certain extent, based on cold logic. If, say, your stats allow for you to run at the speed of sound, your mind understands the ramifications of that event because your skill allows for it to happen in the first place. If action A, facilitated by skill 1, allows B, then C is the logical outcome. In other words: If moving, facilitated by Charge, allows running faster than sound, then a sonic boom is the outcome. This, however, is not our minds filling a blank like when your brain adjusts depth perception when you lose an eye. It's not biological, but logical in the mind space.”

My eyebrow twitched.

“For example,” the Elf produced a sheet of paper and placed it on the table. “If you run,” she drew an arrow on the paper, “faster than sound,” she wrote above the line, “and there is no sonic boom,” she crossed the end of the arrow. “What would that mean?”

“That I'm not running faster than sound?” I tried.

“No, you are,” she corrected me. “But not in air,” she said with a smile. “Why? Because our minds calculate that as well, and give proper feedback. If you run at 1500 kilometers an hour, in a medium in which sound can go at 2000 kilometers an hour, you would not be running faster than sound. See?”

“But then why would the input of faster than sound be there in the first place if it's not the case?” I probed, understanding better.

“Because you are used to running faster than sound,” Lapia explained. “That is your adaptation to circumstances that happen constantly. The fact you always break the sound barrier is ingrained in your mind because that's what the skill does as a permanent consequence so far.”

“Ahh,” I breathed out in understanding. “And when there's no sonic boom, I'll be confused?”

Lapia gave me a big smile. “Precisely. Which is why understanding the existence of this feedback is important. And what we'll be doing today.”

I nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.”