Foul, stinking horses protested pulling Quill’s cart, often stopping to rest. If Vesper had his way, every single one of Quill’s books would be plopped into the mud, the wagon hacked to pieces, and their journey to the capital would be on horseback. Horses stolen from bandits didn't make for a good ox replacement.

Vesper's mood was understandably foul, possibly even as foul as the horses. Both Quill and Vesper’s feet hurt as they hiked along the path to the capital. The finer stone brick, and the wider path the merged with other paths, was a sign they were getting close.

The more prominent path was filled with many merchants, many of whom were filthy. That was understandable and even somewhat common when traveling over long distances. Then there was Quill and Vesper, their filth was unusual in that they were filthy enough where even a dog wouldn’t go near them, and most dogs liked skunks.

In the distance, the capitol walls could be seen. Slowly Quill and Vesper made their way to the city gates.

“Get your sausage rolls here! They’re hot and fresh, perfect for any traveler trying to pass the time to enter! Best sausages in the kingdom! It’ll make your mouth water!” hollered a salesman. His sausage rolls were perfectly balanced on top of a sheet of wood. They would indeed make people’s mouths water.

“I bought your fucking sausages last time! The only thing they’re the best at is tasting bland and having the texture of fucking sawdust!”

The salesmen ignored the angry traveler. “Best sausages in the entire kingdom, with a money-back guarantee!”

“I want my money back!"

Vesper watched as the angry traveler pushed his way towards the small salesman. He was big, built like an ox, and not like the frail, sorry for an excuse, ox that had pulled Quill’s cart.

Like any good entrepreneur, the salesmen knew when he was unwelcome and disappeared into the crowd away from the angry customer.

“They do taste like sawdust!” shouted another unfortunate buyer. It took him a minute of chewing, just to make sure, but by the time he finished chewing, it was also too late for him. The sly sausage salesmen had struck and retreated far faster than an elite assassin.

As much as merchants, travelers, and most importantly, gullible fools pestered the guards, they calmly ignored the complaints. They weren’t there to protect those outside the gate. They were there to regulate who entered the city, to make sure worthless people were acting worthless somewhere else. The city was too crowded for the low leveled and nonclassers. Of course, there were exceptions, but exceptions were given to locals, not strange untrustworthy outsiders.

“Next!” roared a city guard. His armor was ornamental, and he heaved a large bastard sword over his shoulder. He was a bald man with a prominent chin. His brown eyes alluded to the fact he was born from common stock. It was likely that he was at least a level 20 [city guard].

“Levels and Business?” asked the guard. In his hands, he held a small device. It was a class scanner.

“I’m a level 25 [managerial scribe], and this is my [bookworm].”

The guard turned to face Vesper. “What’s your level, boy?”

“I’m a level 5 [bookworm],” Vesper said.

“Uh, on the lower side. Are you sure this one is worth keeping? There are plenty of [bookworms] more qualified than this one. Toss him to the side, and I’ll find you some [bookworms] worthy of the name. Capital has plenty of local talent.”

“I’m afraid the boy is essential with my work.” Quill smiled the best he could.

“Nonsense. He’s too low of a level for me to be letting him through these gates. Unless he’s got some special skill, I’m afraid I’ll have to bar him entry from the city. No one covered in that much dirt is gonna make for a good [bookworm].” The guard waved his hand as if dismissing Vesper.

To say Vesper was livid was an understatement; all this trouble, all of this death just to be denied entry? Well, it didn’t sit too well with Vesper. Who gave the guard the right to deny people entry, anyway? Probably the King, but that didn’t matter one bit. Vesper was going to give the [guard] a piece of his mind.

“Listen here,” Vesper slurred before Quill grabbed hold of Vesper and kicked him in the shin.

“Look, I meet the city requirements on value to be exchanged. I’m afraid you’ll have to let us through.”

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“I can do whatever I please. I control the gates, not the King, not the City Council, not the uptight nobles. Seems to me that you’re putting a lot of stock into a nobody. We don’t harbor freeloaders in this city.” The guard sheepishly grinned and flipped his giant sword.

"How dare he make fun of my, mortal! That’s my job! Let me at him, Vesper." thought Alry.

Vesper ignored the Fae. Their relationship was at an all-time low. Vesper, more than anything, wanted nothing to do with the violent creature.

“Listen, go talk to the city planner of the east wing, and they’ll get both of us sorted. You’re testing my patience, guard.”

“That’s Ferrin to you. I told you, I don’t care who you know. You’re not getting in.”

Vesper snapped. He flung his fist, burying it into the guard’s chest. He stumbled backward, his ornamental armor slightly dented. Instant regret overtook Vesper. They wouldn’t let him in now. Punching a guard, that was two days in the dungeon back in Lucridge.

An advanced class [guard] could take a punch or two. The guard looked surprised but recovered in seconds. A sheepish grin overtook his face.

“How’d [bookworm] like you learn how to punch like that? Tell me, you got [minor strength] or [consolidated punch] as skills? Ah, I guess I was wrong. Look, boy, if you don’t wanna waste time hanging around losers who read, the guard will take you in with punches like that. Seems like you’ve got some secrets, I reckon.”

Vesper was taken aback. He’d punched Ferrin. Why was he gushing over him like he’d found some new toy? He nodded and stepped forward, afraid that the guard would change his mind.

Their light grey stone towers shot far into the sky, smaller buildings greeted Quill and Vesper. It was a jungle of sorts, just without the trees, or the plants, or even the animals. Chaotic towers and houses of various styles and materials were haphazardly crammed within the city’s walls. City planning wasn’t something found in a place so ancient.

“What was that about?” Vesper hissed.

“That guard was classist. Clearly doesn’t respect knowledge-based classes like he should, bullying us like we aren’t the ones to make every great discovery. Respecting strength? What a musclehead.” Quill clenched his fists as he continued to rant. Vesper stopped listening.

For someone so worked upon equality, Quill was also quite classist, Vesper reckoned.

If Quill noticed the scowls and stares from the people from the capital, he didn’t let on. It was their stench. Vesper was sure it was their stench. The cart was guided through the city upon reaching the second set of gates, presumably leading out of the more impoverished area. This time, the guards didn’t pay Quill or Vesper any attention.

This section was, well, more organized, with houses spaced evenly, leaving plenty of room for a broad road to accommodate overstuffed wagons.

“Where are we going?” Vesper pestered Quill.

“To my horrid mentor. We’re close. It’s the best library you can find in the merchant district.”

“And the guards let us in, looking like this? What will your mentor think?” Vesper pointed at his dirt-covered clothes and ruffled hair.

Quill turned to scan Vesper.

“They only do level checks in the front gate and towards the noble estates. You’ll need a pass if you want to talk to anyone noteworthy. Our wagon is full of books, and that means business. The merchant district doesn’t impede business, or they’d risk losing their craftsmen and vendors to other districts. Don’t worry about my mentor.” From Quill’s tone, Vesper knew it would be unwise to bring up Quill’s mentor again.

“Other districts? I thought this was one city. Wouldn’t the King designate an area for merchants?”

“The city is broken up into six districts. Each one is run by a different City Lord appointed by the King. The King has them compete to motivate them to work.”

Vesper nodded. That made some sense. At his time at Lothar’s Farm, Vesper would compete with his fellow slaves over a weekly prize of one succulent chicken foot. It increased productivity and backstabbing. Vesper bet the City Lords also backstabbed each other.

The shops Vesper passed neatly displayed battle-hardened armor, to jewelry, to exotic herbs and spices. No questionable sausage rolls lined the food stalls, only tasty cookers guild-approved food. While the goods exuded into the streets, all vendors had large stone buildings, presumably where they lived. Most buildings contained multiple stories and windows with iron grates preventing intruders.

Most people didn’t stink like Quill or Vesper. Or even like those in the more impoverished district they’d come from.

Vesper shifted uncomfortably as the wagon trembled over each stone bump. He dared ask the question,” Are we there yet?”

Quill narrowed his eyes, his annoyance palpable. “We’ll get there when we get there. If I remember correctly, two more left turns, and we’ll be there.”

Vesper nodded.

Quill was wrong. It was only one left turn and a slight right one until they stood outside the library.

It was far grander than the Lucridge library, newer, and significantly better maintained. And to think Vesper had thought the Lucridge Library was anything but a dump. Large stained glass windows showed images of war, history, magic, and demons. Majestic Griffins were carved into the two front pillars that held the heavy arched dome that topped the library.

Grande wooden doors were imposing with heavy metal handles bolted into them. Nothing about this library was small.

Quill walked up to the door and knocked on the door. Something behind the door whirred, and the doors opened.

“Are these doors enchanted?” Vesper asked.

Quill rolled his eyes. “That’s what he’d want you to believe,” Quill muttered to himself.

“No, the doors open with gears and ancient dwarven power cells.”

Quill stepped in, and Vesper followed.

Bookportation. Vesper gasped. It was like watching traffic, except with books. Each one floated in the air, forming a long line that eventually led to a glowing purple portal the diameter of a pizza. It was evident to any book connoisseur that if the books could speak, they’d yell unsavory road rage words. Occasionally, books bumped into each other and shook violently, presumably in anger.

The library was filled with few readers, sitting in luxurious chairs or bent over ornate wooden tables.

“Nothing has changed,” Quill remarked, his disdain evident.

“This is amazing!” said Vesper, ignoring Quill’s disdain.

“You say that now. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him. I’m telling you this place is the absolute worst.”