“Tell me, little brat,” The drunkard said while licking his lips, “did you bring a coin?”

However, this time Lane just snorted and began walking away.

“Wait!” *Cough cough* “D-don’t you want to know where that half glare is?”

“As if you knew,” Lane said without turning back, “And even if you did, I know he will be back in a week.”

“Ho? And you plan to last that long with a curse upon you. Good luck then.”

Lane stopped walking and took a deep breath, then clenched his fists and turned back to glare at the drunkard. He found him perched on his couch, with a hand extended and grinning. However, after looking at him for a moment, Lane turned away once more.

“Y-you brat! Don’t you want to get rid of that spirit? I can help you! For only a few old coins!” *Cough cough* “W-wait there! I can tell you how to use The Codex!”

“Codex?”

“Y-yes The Codex! That one should still be unbound. Ahem,” And when he saw Lane waiting he extended his hand forward again.

“Tch! You’d better have something useful this time, old man,” Lane said taking out a coin from his purse and showing it to the drunkard.

“Yes, of course, little brat!” The drunkard said patting his chest as he followed the coin with his eyes and licked his lips, “Just give me the coin and I’ll tell you what that old bastard didn’t mention.” He finished gulping and reaching for the coin.

“Useful,” Lane repeated waving the coin without giving it away, “or I’ll tell the City Lord there is a biter in his market. I haven’t been there in a while, old man, but I recall there weren’t coins in his dungeons. Not, a single, one.”

The drunkard huffed, his eyes leaving the coin to focus on Lane’s eyes.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I don’t know,” Lane said shrugging, “I spent a really bad day yesterday, and things don’t seem to be getting any better. Perhaps, after a couple of days I’ll decide there is nothing to lose and go for it,” And he stopped, putting the coin right in front of the drunkard’s view, “But I’m not there yet. So, what do you say, old man? Information first and I’ll leave you alone to munch on your coin?”

The drunkard sneered, his breath growing ragged with each second he spent considering the offer.

“A-a small one! Give me a small one first and I’ll tell you one part so that you know it’s useful, then the big coin!”

“Hmm,” Lane thought in silence, and then closed his hand around the coin to cover it completely, “Look at me, old man.”

But the drunkard turned away.

“So you are worse today! Haha! There aren’t many old coins changing hands after the changes reached the border aren’t they?” Then he opened his hand with the palm upwards to show the coin on it, barely out of the drunkard’s reach, “We both know you won’t think of anything once you have this. So tell me, old man, what in the spirits is this codex you talked about.”

The drunkard did his best to ignore Lane, but after a moment, Lane could see him sweating and scratching his shoulders. He turned slightly, peeking for an instant at the coin in Lane’s palm. But that was enough for Lane to see the grey veins in the drunkard’s eyes. Finally, when the drunkard jumped at him, Lane did the same and saw him falling on the floor.

“Heh,” Lane snorted, “I think you are far too gone. The dungeons it is. After a couple of days in there let’s see if you don’t start singing for a dime.”

“N-no! Just one coin! Just one!” Said the drunkard clawing at the floor and dragging a pair of limp legs behind, “I’ll tell you about the codex!”

“Look at yourself!” Lane said taking a step back, “You can’t even move your legs after yesterday’s coins! Talk first, coin later!”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Ghwaaaa!” The drunkard growled, rolled, and flailed his arms without reaching Lane.

“It’s an artifact!” He finally said huffing, “An artifact from the Core lands!”

“Khorlands?” Asked Lane frowning, “As in, the Khorian Shards?”

“The Core Lands!” Grunted the drunkard while slamming the floor with a hand, “That thing’s older than the Shards, older than Khor itself! It is from the bastion of the advent! Didn’t you saw the origin already?”

“Who cares how old it is,” said Lane with a scowl, “Tell me how to use it!”

The drunkard huffed, shaking his head and stopping only to look at the coin once more.

“The coin…”

“Not until you answer. It won’t be late to get it after I get what I want…”

The drunkard licked his lips, rubbed his hands together, and looked at Lane’s eyes. And this time, Lane could see the glow of metal, shining clear despite the gloss in them. He sneered, but still nodded and took another coin from his purse.

“Two coins, old man,” He said putting the coins together, “Just a simple answer, and they will be yours to feast on…”

“T-tell it to write the commands,” the drunkard blurted before trying to crawl at Lane again, “Just tell it to write dammit! I told you already just give me my coins!”

“Here,” Lane said throwing the coins at the floor, “Just remember, old man, no coins in the dungeons.”

And he walked away without looking back. Behind him, the drunkard was already stuffing the first coin in his mouth without looking anywhere else.

As Lane walked, he didn’t look up nor talked to anyone. The sight of the drunkard’s unfocused eyes kept showing in his head. He turned on a corner and entered a dark alley, staggering until he reached a wall and put his arm against it.

He trembled, his fists clenched with his knuckles white.

“Fuck!” He said and gagged, “fucking junkies fuck, fuck!”

He punched the wall, gagged again, and threw up.

*cough cough*

“Bah!”

Spitting, Lane put a hand in his purse and took out the last old coin in it. When he lifted the coin, he shivered; the air making him feel weak and cold, and yet, the coin in his hand felt colder. But he stopped before throwing it away and bit his lips. You still need it, Lane, He thought; it’s his fault for using them, and even if I didn’t give him those, he would still get them somewhere else.

He chuckled, his throat begging for water as he did. Then he laughed until he fell again in a fit of cough. When he finally calmed down, Lane looked at the coin with a grimace, but in the end, he put it back in his purse.

He looked up, washed his mouth with a bit of water from his bag, and rubbed his eyes clean. On the roof, Lane saw a black cat looking down on him with yellow eyes. He snorted, Look at you, even a stray waits for the coins you have. Then he picked up a stone and threw it at the cat to chase it away.

When he exited the alley with his eyes still reddened, but this time he walked straight and looking forward.

Instead of walking back to the castle, Lane left the market and made way for the western side of the town. Around him, the bustle of the morning commerce faded into the background with each step. In its place, Lane heard a familiar silence that was not so as occasional noises broke the peace.

At his right, a dog drank from a channel leading to the sewers, stopping only to bark at a curious rat. Passing an alley, small shadows hid, leaving behind echoes of footsteps. Turning a corner, Lane saw a pair of teenage girls reeking of rum and kissing in broad daylight and sitting above a third one far too gone to care. None of their hairs showed the streaks of reveal nor reacted in any way to his presence.

He ignored them and strode forward until he reached the end of the street. At his right, a two-story building painted in bright yellow stood proudly despite the tacky cartel above its door shoving ‘Sweet Dreamy Days And Bittersweet Nights’ in bold red right over a painting of a huge pair of naked breasts.

From it came a mixed stench of cheap perfume, expensive cologne, and overwhelming incense that somehow didn’t manage to mask the distinctive scent of its business.

Lane walked to the left, towards a building with only one story. It's front a gray wall with only two big windows framing a weathered door. The windows, however, sported each a nice set of boards, fixed with rusty nails and blocking them without a fault.

Lane did not enter. He walked to the side and got in another alley filled with trash bags and broken, rotting furniture. He stopped before another blocked window and started counting in his head.

When he reached nine, he clenched his fist and punched towards the window. However, his fist never reached the window because it opened, revealing a mousy boy with widening eyes at the sight of the approaching fist.

“Ah! Lane w-wai…”

*Bang!*

The boy crashed on the floor and rolled in pain rubbing his bleeding nose. He didn’t get much time to lament his state though, as a looming shadow covered his view.

“Why, how fancy meeting you here, Runny,” Said a smiling Lane lifting him by the collar of his t-shirt, “And just when I was wondering where you got that tell on the Grinner…”