Flickering ethereal lights cast the gate in wavering shadows, which proved to be perfect cover for Elijah’s ingress. He slipped past one of the guards, narrowly avoiding her by a scant handful of inches. She started, looking around in shock, but when she saw nothing, she muttered, “Must’ve been the wind.”

Her partner said, “Storm’s comin’, I think. Saw it on the horizon earlier.”

The woman shook her head. “What I wouldn’t give to still be able to check my phone for the forecast,” she sighed. “The things we miss, huh?”

“Netflix.”

“Huh?”

“I miss Netflix,” the man elaborated. “Not just the good stuff, either. Those cheap, cash-grab, one-big-star movies they used to pump out. I would get some beer and pizza, and just turn one of those silly things on.”

“If they were silly, then why did you watch them?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Guess we all need a little silliness sometimes,” he answered. “Call it a release. I don’t know. But I miss it.”

“I guess that makes sense. I liked…”

Elijah passed out of earshot as he stepped into the city, completely unnoticed by the guards. Even when he was well out of sight, he didn’t bother shifting back to his human form. He knew his appearance was distinct, and his experiences in Seattle told him that he only had a vague idea of what kind of identification abilities people could aim at him. Isaiah had known his whole status, and Elijah couldn’t chance someone with similar abilities recognizing who he was and inferring with his plans for Easton.

Or, as he discovered a few minutes later, Valoria. He’d overheard that bit of information by eavesdropping on a conversation between two pedestrians who were more than a little critical of the name change. Unbeknownst to them, not only did Elijah overhear them, but their conversation didn’t go unnoticed by a few other pedestrians. Most notably, there was a man with shifty eyes who seemed extremely interested, and he followed the pair as they turned a corner.

Elijah let them be, but he suspected that he’d just discovered the presence of the secret police Carmen had described. How fascist had the government become if people couldn’t even criticize something as innocuous as a name change without incurring the city-state’s wrath?

Shaking his draconic head, Elijah moved on, wandering through the city. A couple of times, he bumped into one of the many pedestrians, but there were enough people in the area that no one suspected that an invisible predator moved among them. However, as the night wore on, the traffic slowly dwindled, and Elijah let himself truly take everything in.

And he had to admit that the city represented an impressive achievement.

It was clean, orderly, and far more structurally advanced than places like Seattle. There was no obvious crime, and certainly, it didn’t feel like every alley might be the site of a murder. There were blue-and-white clad guards on nearly every corner, though, and plenty of plain-clothes watchers were out and about as well. Elijah recognized them easily enough, and he suspected that the citizens did as well. However, the residents clearly chose to ignore the obvious.

Still, Elijah couldn’t help but offer his begrudging respect for what Roman had accomplished. Sure, it was built on a foundation of evil, but there was no denying that the city was a safe place to live.

Eventually, Elijah passed through a large square. At first, he didn’t understand the purpose of the platform in its center, but after inspecting it more closely, he smelled the unmistakable scent of blood. Then, recognition dawned in his mind, and he saw it for what it was.

A stage for execution.

A series of blocks – ten – stood in a line on the stage. Each one was missing a rounded chunk, and the resulting divot was stained with the blood Elijah smelled. Seeing that, it wasn’t difficult to imagine a row of prisoners strapped to the blocks and being beheaded by an axe-wielding executioner.

And given the prevalence of the iron-rich scent that pervaded everything, the edifice had seen quite a lot of use.

Elijah moved on, his anger mounting. Sometimes, executions were necessary, especially in a situation where you couldn’t afford to jail a dangerous prisoner. When you were struggling to provide for law-abiding citizens, it was an easy decision to rid yourself of that sort of burden.

Yet, that situation didn’t describe Valoria.

More, from Elijah’s perspective, that sort of circumstance was, by definition, rare. The fact that executions in Valoria clearly weren’t uncommon told Elijah that there was more at play than simple expedience or the public good.

Moving on from the square did nothing to assuage Elijah’s outrage, especially when he wandered into a less affluent portion of the city. There was a clear line of demarcation, beyond which were simple, unadorned, and unimaginative buildings that looked like cubes made of lifeless brick. A few bore graffiti, some of which were messages that insulted Roman or his government, and the residents were poorly fed, dirty, and cloaked in rags.

Obviously, all was not well in Valoria.

Over time, Elijah overheard enough to recognize that the majority of the poorest caste were Scholars, which because of Carmen’s descriptions, he knew were second-class citizens in the city. Roman didn’t value their potential contributions, and as such, even being permitted to live in Valoria was a relatively new development. For the first couple of years, they were routinely turned away unless they could prove themselves immediately valuable.

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Most couldn’t.

Elijah wondered how many had died because Roman saw no value in Scholars? Thousands, at the very least. Certainly, overextending the city’s resources might have destroyed everything they had built. But Elijah found it distasteful that they hadn’t even tried to find a solution that didn’t involve turning a bunch of people away to survive in the hostile wilderness.

But at the end of the day, Elijah hadn’t come to Valoria to judge the city based on its policies. Instead, as distressing as the situation was, he only really cared about holding Roman – and his comrades – accountable. And that meant he needed to gather some information. So, he found his way to the back of a secluded alley, where he assumed his human form.

Regrettably, he donned a pair of boots, largely because, for once, he didn’t want to stand out. In addition, he focused on his Ring of Anonymity:

Ring of Anonymity Equipped. Choose Mode:

Anonymous

Robert Thane – Level 41 Warrior (Currently Active)

Deactivated

Hopefully, no one would be able to see through the subterfuge. Often, he forgot about the Ring of Anonymity, but in this instance, he was totally focused, and he had no room for mistakes. So, once he’d hidden his Sash of the Whirlwind under his shirt, he checked himself over. His disguise wasn’t perfect, but he expected it would be enough. The only issue was that, while wearing the boots, One with Nature winked out.

That left Elijah feeling a little blind, but he’d expected it, so he didn’t panic.

Regardless, he applied his various buffs, took a deep breath, then headed out of the alley. He kept his staff out, mostly because there were few people who traveled the city completely unarmed. It would have been stranger if he was one of those few. Besides, he didn’t have far to go.

He joined the sparse flow of pedestrians, keeping his head down as he made his way to his destination, which turned out to be a tavern called The Swift Hiccup. It was a rowdy place – not quite low-class, but not exactly swanky, either – which was perfect for what Elijah had planned.

He stepped into the building, and he was immediately assaulted by a wall of noise. Raucous laughter mingled with a bawdy song sung by a scantily clad woman on the other side of the room, and an undercurrent of conversation filled the air. Elijah staggered a bit as he crossed to the bar, then unsteadily sat on a stool.

“What’s your poison?” asked a gaunt-faced barman.

“Whisky, if ya got it,” Elijah slurred dramatically.

The bartender nodded, then went to fetch the drink. By the time he returned with a shot glass and a bottle, another man sidled up to sit next to Elijah. The barman filled the glass, then slid it toward Elijah.

“You new here, buddy?”

Elijah downed the drink. “New-ish,” he admitted. “Been out in Silverado for the past few months. Just got back this afternoon.”

“Ah, you work for the government?” the man asked.

Elijah glanced at the fellow. He was average height, with only a bit of fringe on his head and quite a large paunch around his middle. Elijah nodded, saying, “That obvious?”

“Not really, in that getup. But most everybody with your level works for the government in some way or the other. Especially Warriors.”

Elijah saw an opportunity. “Ain’t that the truth,” he said, tapping the bar. As the barman refilled his shot glass, Elijah said, “How’re things ‘round ‘ere?”

The man spat on the floor. “That jumped-up thug is causin’ trouble again,” he said. “Actin’ like he runs the joint. He’s holed up in that hotel over on the other side of Justice Square. Some folks say he’s on the verge of rebellion. Uppity asshole. His kind should know their place. King Roman will deal with that, though. Everybody knows what happens to anybody who messes with the king.”

Elijah raised his glass, “Long live the king.”

That, more than anything, loosened the man’s lips, and he went on to describe the situation in great detail. Laramie, the warlord who’d betrayed Carmen, had been rewarded with a very important position within the city. At present, he was Roman’s most senior general, and he’d spent the past year fighting Easton’s – or Valoria’s – wars. The rumor was that, as a result of his success, he’d begun to get ideas about his place in everything.

“Ain’t like he’s gonna actually rebel, though. He’s just posturin’ so the king’ll give him somethin’ or nother,” Elijah’s new “friend” said. “You know how it is. He wants ethereum, probably. Natural treasures. That sorta thing.”

“The rich get richer,” Elijah said sagely.

“If that ain’t the truth, I don’t know what is!” the paunch man exclaimed before clapping Elijah on the shoulder. “You’re built like a brick shithouse, kid. How high is your Strength?”

Elijah shrugged. “High enough to survive, not high enough to thrive.”

That brought a laugh from the increasingly drunk man. For his part, Elijah had already gotten what he wanted. The Swift Hiccup had been chosen for a reason. From what he’d overheard while exploring the city, it was frequented by low-level guards and other government officials. And in Elijah’s experience, those were the sorts of people with the loosest lips. They had enough authority to take pride in it, but they were weak enough to feel a need to prove themselves to strangers.

And in a bar, that usually meant spreading gossip and rumors.

It just so happened that Elijah had found exactly what he sought from the first person he met. He’d expected to spend most of the night hanging out in the bar, but now, he felt that he had everything he needed to do what was necessary.

“Well, it’s gettin’ late,” slurred Elijah. “I think I’m gonna get home and see my wife. Maybe we’ll meet again, friend.”

Elijah followed that up by gripping the drunken man’s shoulder. For his part, the bald fellow asked Elijah to stick around for another drink, but Elijah wasn’t having that. Instead, he paid his bill, then headed out.

He didn’t intend to hit Laramie yet. It was too late to start that kind of mission, and he was tired – both mentally and physically – after the day’s travails. So, after wandering around a little more, he found a mid-tier hotel where he rented a bed for the night.

Once inside the third-story room, he removed his shoes with a long sight of relief. He could function without One with Nature, but not having it was disconcerting in a way he hadn’t expected. Perhaps he needed to work on that, because he expected it wouldn’t be the last time he’d be forced to travel incognito.

Regardless, Elijah cast Soothe on himself, then found the basin on the nightstand. There was no bathroom, so he just used the ceramic bowl to wash his face. He’d just rinsed the soap away when he felt someone in the hall outside.

No – not one someone. Many people. Ten, to be exact.

Elijah calmly crossed to the window, then looked outside. There were dozens of men standing in the street, but he only had eyes for one of them. Pacing back and forth was a tall, athletic, and armored man who wore his hair in thick dreadlocks.

“Laramie,” Elijah whispered.

Then, he made a decision. He was tired of sneaking around and asking questions like he was some sort of spy. He wanted to get on with the task he’d come to Valoria to accomplish. And the first step was to rid the world of the man who’d betrayed his sister-in-law.

So, with fury dancing in his heart, Elijah grabbed his staff, took a deep breath, then strode toward the door.