"Third Young Master, welcome to Gilded Eagle." The woman standing in front of the doors bowed low as she opened the doors. "I'll let the branch manager know of your arrival immediately," she said, guiding Solaar up the stairs. Rust stepped forward to follow them, but Troy pulled him aside.

"We'll just wait in the lobby." Reina was already ahead of them, crossing the hall briskly and sitting down on, a bored look on her face as she gazed out the window. Meanwhile, Troy quickly recognized someone, and though he offered to introduce Rust when he spoke to them, Rust declined and sat down, taking after Reina's example. Though, unlike her, he was more interested in the inside than the outside of the building.

Posted along the wall were various sheets of paper, separated into sections for news, commissions, and announcements. Two desks sat on the other side of the room, but only one was staffed at the moment, resulting in a moderately sized line. The clerk at the desk was a cold looking youth at first flame cultivation, wearing a white uniform with a nametag reading "Kit" pinned to his shirt. He spoke to the people in line with polite, efficient but apathetic speech, his expression completely unchanging, as if he had facial paralysis. Most of the interactions were pretty straightforward. The person in line would speak with the clerk for a minute or two, who would make some notes and then hand over a bag with some payment in it. The client would verify the amount and then leave.

Rust quickly lost interest in the people lined up and instead started absentmindedly looking at and feeling out the auras of the people in the lobby. Most of the people here were one flame warriors, like Troy and Reina, although there were also some foundation establishment and two flames among them. Toward a corner of the room, his eyes narrowed as he found a man standing in the shadows. This man was the strongest person in the lobby. He was another two flame warrior, although his aura was noticeably denser than the others. Carrying a thick club, he watched the people in line with a thin smile.

While Rust was watching him, at some point, his fingers started tapping the hilt of his sword. If this man attacked him, would he be able to defend himself? He imagined the scene in his head. He would only have one chance. Dodge the first hit, and end it in one strike. Like he'd done with the bear. The man would be much faster than him, so he would have to make up the difference by reading the direction of the attack beforehand. Left? Right? Vertical? It would be easiest to just dodge backwards, but that would make it harder to counterattack. He wouldn't be able to win without an effective counterattack, so it was better to gamble on a direction. After thinking for a moment, he settled on an attack from the left, aimed at his head. The attack of someone confident that their opponent wouldn't be able to react.

He started thinking about how he should counterattack, but a sudden instinct guided his attention back toward the line. A small figure wearing a black hood was speaking with the clerk. They were clearly trying to hide their identity, but doing a pretty poor job of it. Her cloak didn't quite reach her shoes, which heavily suggested that not only was she a girl, but also one with some money. Although, given the dirt staining them, maybe she'd fallen on some harder times recently. The girl pulled out a box from her robes, setting it on the desk. Standing up to get a closer look, Rust bumped into Troy, who followed his eyes to the girl.

She had taken something out of the box, and although it was hard to see, it looked like the corner of a painting. As she gave the scrap over to the clerk, her hand turned slightly and Rust glimpsed the surface. A field of red flowers blooming amidst black mud. Something rumbled just beneath the surface of his thoughts. It was something important, but it vanished as soon as he tried to focus on it. He kept trying for a few seconds, but the feeling only grew further away, so he gave up. But one thing became certain. That painting, he had seen it before. And for him to still remember this despite his amnesia, the impression it left on him could be imagined.

"Hmmmm, some people come to Gilded Eagle to get something appraised," Troy commented as he watched. The clerk turned the scrap over several times in his hand as he talked with the girl. "Looks like even Kit dosen't know much about it, though. You probably can't tell, but that's his puzzled face." Indeed, Rust could not tell. It looked exactly the same as it did when he spoke with any other client.

Kit handed the scrap back to the girl, and they spoke for another two minutes, with her growing increasingly agitated. Finally, Kit scrawled something onto a piece of paper and handed it to her, gesturing lazily to a nearby spot on the wall. Bowing her head slightly, the hooded girl hastily put up took the paper, pinning it to the wall and hurrying to the exit, nearly running into Rust on the way out.

"Ah. She was probably trying to pawn the painting to fund her request," Troy deduced. "Looks like Gilded Eagle doesn't want it, but sometimes there'll be vagabond cultivators drunk on legends willing to gamble that some mysterious object is actually a treasure." He sighed. "To be honest, though I sympathize with them, taking requests is dangerous, and—wait, you're actually interested?" Troy followed, helpless, as Rust ignored him and walked up to the wall. The poster was very short, though elegantly written, with just a few sentences and a sketch of the painting.

Ad hoc request: Help wanted for escort mission to Shadowrest. Rewards include a fragment of an ancient painting of unknown origin, but are negotiable. Anything is on the table. Inquire at the Spirit of Solace Inn, Room 207.

He stared at the sketch, hoping to gain some clue about his connection to the painting, but just a few seconds later, a loud bang interrupted his thoughts.

A man who'd clearly just broken through to two flame cultivation had slammed his hands down onto the desk.

"Damn, that hotheaded fool is at two flames now? I can feel a headache coming already," Troy said under his breath.

"Bullshit! Last month you said the same thing! How can it be even lower this month?" The man shouted as he leaned over Kit.

"Apologies, sir." The clerk neither sounded nor looked particularly apologetic. "The price is determined by complex factors which I have no control over. If you'd like to learn more, schedule an appointment with a representative."

"No way. I'm not leaving without the rest. You have no idea what I went through to get this!"

By this point, the ruckus had caught the attention of most, if not all, the people in the lobby. Kit's face continued to sport the same look as before, but his voice hardened slightly. "Sir, you're causing a disturbance."

"I didn't almost die so that you could steal my money and give me attitude! Get the branch manager here, right now." The man turned to the people behind him. "Listen here," he said. "This little fucker's trying to tell me that the taxes are up again." A murmur ran through the group. "And he's expecting us just to accept that crap. Well, I'm done with that shit. Who's with me?"

"He's right!" Some brave soul shouted. Or maybe she had planned this out with the man. "Tell us what's going on! We deserve an explanation!"

The man grew emboldened as the murmurs of the crowd grew louder. Letting his newly attained two flame cultivation run rampant, a thin blue glow surrounded his body as he grabbed the front of Kit's shirt, pulling him to his feet. The clerk's face remained impassive, returning the gaze without a hint of change in his expression.

"Like I said, if you schedule an appointment, I'd be happy to go over the many factors which can impact compensation. You can also file a formal complaint at the administrative bureau. Now, please step aside so that I can get to the next person."

The man seemed surprised that his attempt at intimidation had failed, given the difference in cultivation, but that surprise quickly turned to anger. "Don't fuck with me!" The man shook the clerk violently. "Don't fuck with me," he repeated. "Call the hall manager before I knock your teeth out."

"Crap. This is getting out of hand," Troy said as he stood up, striding over to where the man was and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey hey, let's not get violent, okay?"

"Who the hell are you? Fuck off!" Aura flared out from the man as he pushed Troy away, hard enough to send him sprawling onto the ground.

"Oh boy, now you've really done it." Troy sighed as he stood up, brushing himself off. "Some people just can't accept my good intentions," he muttered. Before the heckler could turn his attention back to Kit, a low voice sounded out from behind Troy.

"It's been a while since someone wanted to cause trouble at Gilded Eagle." The large man had walked out of the corner. With a wide grin, he hefted the club onto his shoulders, allowing his two flame aura to pour out. "But every time I think my job is getting boring, another fool steps up to the plate." Though nominally at the same level as the other man, the pressure he gave off was far greater, and standing upright and in the light, the man appeared even larger than before. Sensing danger, the crowd quickly retreated, leaving the heckler alone.

He quickly backed up, the color draining from his face, his previous bravado vanishing in the face of overwhelming strength. "Wait—!" A strangled scream replaced whatever he was going to say as the guard closed the distance with frightening speed, bringing the club down on the man's knee.

"Oi oi, are you done already? I thought you weren't going to take shit anymore, buddy? Sure looks like you're taking some shit right now." The man only groaned, clutching his leg as the guard sneered down at him. "Lucky you. I'm a man of mercy. Looks like your payment can still just about cover the medical costs." Seeing that the man wasn't resisting, the guard dragged him to his feet and started leading him out of the building. As he reached the door, he turned around to look at the other people, especially those that had been complaining earlier. "This is the Gilded Eagle, not some back alley. If you think you can cause trouble with just two hollow flames, my club will be happy to give your kneecaps a visit." It was an effective warning. The ones who had been so eager to stir up trouble earlier were suddenly silent. Many of them mumbled some excuse and left the hall, while the rest meekly shuffled back into line.

Kit straightened out his shirt and sat back down, but nobody walked up to the desk. After half a minute of waiting, his expression changed for the first time that day into one of slight exasperation. "I can help the next person now," he said at last, and finally normal operations seemed to resume once more.

"Ah... what a mess," Troy lamented. "Come on, let's go," he said to Rust as he returned to where they'd been seated. Reina was already standing up, heading toward the door.

"Huh? But what about—"

Troy cut him off before he could say Solaar's name. "We'll meet him outside."

"Oh... alright." Before he followed Troy out of the building, Rust memorized the contents of the hooded girl's poster. The Spirit of Solace. He would have to ask Troy about where it was later. They walked into an alley a couple of streets over and found Solaar leaning against the wall separating the innermost region of the city from the middle. His amber eyes were looking somewhere in the distance, a thoughtful expression on his face, but as Troy and the others came into view, he turned to them with a smile.

"Hey," he said, handing a box over to Troy. "Here. For the completion of the commission."

Troy's eyes widened as he opened it. Dozens of white stones shone inside it, looking a little reddish under the late afternoon light. "For real? You're the best, Solaar!"

The boy shook his head. "It was good work. This is a fair amount."

"I mean, I'm won't say no to that." Troy said, busily sorting out the stones. He placed the largest pile into a bag and handed it to Rust. "Here, for you."

"Thanks." Rust looked down at the spirit stones he'd received. He could feel a faint energy from them, flowing into his body and nestling somewhere around his heart. But, despite Troy's excitement and how fiercely the other people here seemed to covet them, the only thing that he felt when looking at them was how low quality. It'd take hundreds of these spirit stones to even provide enough aura for first flame ignition, let alone the exponentially more expensive later ones. Though, considering that he wasn't even at first flame himself, he wasn't quite sure why he felt so picky about this.

"Alright." Troy yawned as he stretched. "I think it's time for Reina and I to head back to the guild. The master's waiting for our report. What about you, Solaar? Wanna come with us? Have a drink afterward?"

"Sorry. The branch manager mentioned my lord father was looking for me, so I'm going back to the manor," Solaar said. "Another time."

"Shame. You, Rust? Wanna see our guild? Or I could show you to where the rest of the refugees are. It's pretty close to the guild hall. We could give it a look. There might be someone you recognize there."

Rust was pretty sure he wouldn't be recognizing anyone. In fact, probably nobody would recognize him either, which might be a problem, given his alleged backstory. "Actually, do you know where the Spirit of Solace Inn is? I'd like to check it out."

"Sure... but why do you want to go there?" Troy furrowed his brow. "If you're looking for a place to stay, there's much cheaper options. Don't tell me you're splurging your spirit stones already?"

"Er, no," Rust assured him. "I'd just like to ask about a job there."

"A job....?" A flash of recognition appeared on Troy's face. "Ah. It must be the one the hooded girl put up. What're the terms?"

"I don't know, really. It just says an escort to Shadowrest. The pay is a fragment of an ancient painting, but I could negotiate for more."

Troy frowned. "I wouldn't take it. Too dangerous for too little gain. Not to mention, the whole thing is suspicious. Reads like a thinly veiled attempt to lure someone into a trap, except for the part where they went through the trouble of making an official request at Gilded Eagle instead of just asking someone off the street. Why do you want the job?"

"..." Rust didn't really have a good answer. He just wanted to get another look at the painting.

"Well, I won't pry. If you're sure, I won't stop you. But. You should know that you're probably going to need some kind of proof of identification. Posting the request at Gilded Eagle means they're hoping for someone reputable. The client will want to make sure you're trustworthy, so if they don't know you personally, they're going to need something to vouch for you. A registered guild, usually. One with a reputation to uphold."

Troy hesitated for a second. "If you'd like, we can get you set up with our guild. We have a policy against taking people until they ignite their first flame, but I'm sure the guild master will make an exception for you once she sees what you can do. I don't mean to brag, but our guild is one of the best choices out there. We take requests from everyone, including the three big houses, but we can decline them if we want. And," he added with a grin, "our guild master is a five flame warrior, so nobody messes with us."

Rust hesitated for a moment, and Troy quickly reassured him he didn't have to decide now. "Someone like you will always be welcome with us, or any guild, really," Troy said. "But... just so you know, even if you head over today, it'll probably take a couple of days to get everything sorted, so it might take some time before the job will take you."

"Hmm." Rust frowned, shuffling his feet with disappointment. The feeling he got from the painting was like an itch he couldn't scratch. The sooner he could see it, the better. He didn't know why it felt urgent, but since he'd woken up, all he'd done was follow his instincts, and there was no reason to stop yet.

"I could give you one," Solaar said. He'd been quietly watching Rust for a couple of minutes now. "A proof of identification, I mean."

"Huh?" Troy's head snapped toward the boy. "But you—"

Solaar waved him off. "If you don't want to join a guild or have to endure the wait, come to the manor tomorrow morning. Just tell the gatekeepers your name and I'll come find you."

"Oh! Thanks," Rust said.

"No problem. Then I'll be heading back now. See you around, Rust. You too, Troy, Reina." With a graceful leap, he hopped over the wall and vanished out of sight.

"Whenever you're free, come hang out with us again!" Troy called out after him.

A couple of seconds passed before Reina spoke up. "If I were you, I wouldn't take Solaar's offer," she said to Rust. "In fact—" She turned to Troy. "It's past the time for you to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"Pretending you're actually friends with Solaar and using him for clout and embezzlement and what you think are gifts but are actually loans."

Troy cocked his head innocently. "But... I am friends with Solaar, though?"

"Stop playing stupid. Cloudtides are not friends with vagabond cultivators. And besides, you think he doesn't know you're just using him? Watch yourself, before you invite disaster."

"I know what I'm doing." Troy's expression hardened a little. "Solaar's pretty lonely despite how he looks. He wants friends, but his status makes it hard for him to have genuine ones. We're some of the few people who can talk to him comfortably. So I treat him as a friend, but make it easy for him to draw lines when he needs to by keeping it a little transactional. You make it sound like he's not getting anything from me, when you know that's not true." Troy huffed. "Treating people the way they want to be treated. That's the secret to making friends. Try it sometime?"

"...And how many people calling themselves his friends met a nasty end after getting too involved with Cloudtide business?"

Troy scoffed. "Only a few. And those people didn't understand the first thing about Solaar. Trying to use the Cloudtide name to extort spirit stones from others. They let their perceived influence get to their heads. I'm different from them, though. I know where I stand."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're really such good friends with him, why don't you ask him what the hell the Cloudtides are scheming right now? Why are the taxes so high? Why are they inserting their people everywhere?"

"Reina, I'm friends with him exactly because I don't ask these questions. No matter what they're doing, it has little to do with us. All we have to do is make the best out of whatever happens. Even if it weren't the Cloudtides, there would always be someone making moves, and we would have to deal with it all the same. Besides, why are you badmouthing Solaar so much when he's saved your life multiple times, including once just this morning?"

Reina snorted. "My life wouldn't have been in danger if it weren't for you. And he didn't save us because he's a good person. It's just part of maintaining his reputation. If he actually gave a damn about the people in this city, he'd actually do something about the crap his family does, not pretend he doesn't know about it."

Troy sighed, but didn't argue any further. Apparently satisfied, Reina turned to Rust. "This dunce is probably giving you the wrong idea, but vagabond cultivators like us should stay away from the Cloudtide house. Including Solaar. He won't have your eyes plucked out for looking at him wrong when he's in a bad mood, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a Cloudtide. Actually, stay away from all three big houses, but the Cloudtides are the worst. Arrogant bastards with egos matched in their size only by their fragility."

"She's got a personal grudge against them, but mostly, I'd agree," Troy admitted. "Best for you to stay away if you can. It's easier said than done, though. The three great houses have their fingers in everything, so you'll eventually have to deal with them no matter who you are, if you want a foothold here. So you might as well just pick one to associate with, and doing it through Solaar is a pretty good choice. It's up to you, though. If you're just looking for the identification, you can always just join our guild instead. Solaar won't mind."

Politics didn't particularly interest Rust, but it was probably something he should pay attention to. "I'll think about it."

"Anyway, maybe you won't even need any identification, and all of this is moot. You'll find the Spirit of Solace if you walk south several blocks and then turn right and follow the southwest path a couple more blocks. It's a little far, so if you want, we can take you there."

"No, I'll be fine." Rust didn't want to impose on them any longer. "It's not on your way, and your guild master must be getting impatient."

Troy nodded. "Alright then. If you get lost, I'm sure a local can point you on your way. It's a well-known place. Reina and I will be hanging out tomorrow afternoon at the city's center plaza, the place with the statue. Feel free to join us."

"Sure thing."

They said their goodbyes, and Rust started heading in the direction that Troy had pointed out. He'd mentioned that it was a little far, but after wandering around for so long that the moon started rising, Rust was forced to admit that the problem wasn't the distance, but that he was walking in circles. After some more meandering without progress, Rust finally swallowed his pride and decided that it was time to find someone who would know where to go. And though the three burly men standing with their backs turned to him didn't quite seem like the types to give directions, he wasn't about to discriminate on appearance.