Isil tabbed over to a page, accidentally skipping it a few times due to the lack of page numbers. After a good about of page-turning, she made it to the pages she wanted. On the left page was a detailed, but rather crude drawing of a magic circle. On the right page was a description of the spell, its history, the School, rank, and mana cost of the spell. These two particular pages described the Master Alteration spell ‘Inventory’. Isil had previously been monotonously copying the information and failed to retain the majority of it, so she had not been excited about it when she first saw it.

It was one of the ‘new’ spells, so she wasn’t sure she could cast it perfectly, but she jumped into it. Nothing visible happened, but a tingle on the back of her neck told her something had changed. She moved her head around, looking for any kind of spatial distortions or ripples in air that might mark the Inventory spell. Her failure to notice anything caused her to scratch her head in confusion. Assuming it wasn’t supposed to be a visible spell, she closed her eyes and focused on anything abnormal. She found it rather quickly.

From what she was feeling, Inventory wasn’t meant to create a gateway to a personal space, but rather allow her to pull or put anything within a meter radius of her into her personal space. Of course, some things could not be put into the inventory, such as things larger than the affected area, or were too heavy. She wasn’t sure of the exact parameters of the spell, but from what she was feeling, they weren’t too limiting. She sent her attention into the inventory, instantly comprehending the state and location of everything within it.

There were a few items in there that made her feel nostalgic, and another few that made her feel disgusted, namely the large stack of monster body parts she had forgotten to sell. She ignored them all and pulled out a small book about the size of her palm. She opened her eyes and ended the spell once the book was in her hands. This was the royal pass she needed to get into the palace. It was based off a modern-day passport, bearing the insignia of Ashiron on its cover, its pages containing information about her physical features and multiple magic inscriptions that verified its authenticity. She slipped it into her coat pocket.

Isil removed the cloth from the entrance of the dead end and slipped it back into the pendant. She planned on transferring to Inventory within the week, but she would keep using the pendant until she got used to Inventory. She left the alley on the other side of the block that she entered in, garnering a few curious glances. She walked over to the gate, checking to make sure that the knights had already left or entered the barracks. Having ensured that she wasn’t going to be noticed by them, she presented herself to the gatesmen.

“Halt, madam. You must state your business and show proper identification before continuing on.” A gatesman called out, gripping his pike casually and puffing out his chest, attempting to show off to her..

“You don’t need to know my business.” Isil showed him her royal pass.

Instantly, the gatesman’s attitude went from confident swagger to respectful deference. “Of course ma’am. However, standard procedure dictates that we must...” He seemed reluctant to say the next words.

“Do as you must, but after you verify it, this meeting never happened.”

“I- I’m not sure I understand...” The gatesman stuttered.

“Do not log my visit. Do not mention me to anyone, not even his majesty.”

“M-ma’am, I cannot defy a royal order!”

“Just nod your head and do as your told, you can choose who you listen to after.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The gatesman nodded vigorously and swiftly ran off into the gatehouse. He came back a few seconds later, holding an unnatural smooth, ovular stone. Isil presented her pass to him, allowing him to rub the stone on the cover of the pass. The stone glowed a faint white, and vibrated, signifying an authentic pass. The gatesman shakily withdrew the stone and bowed his head deep.

“Your pass checks out ma’am, you’re free to pass.” The gatesman said with the utmost respect and fear.

“Good. I do hope I don’t hear about this again.” Isil patted his shoulder twice and walked pass.

The gatesman breathed a sigh of relief, trying his best to ignore his partner’s look of suspicion. However, he didn’t think he was going to be able to avoid his questions after his shift. Being unable to ask while on duty only made it more likely he wasn’t going to be able to escape the questions. He wasn’t too inclined to answer his partner however, especially after being threatened by someone so important.

-_-_-

Isil smirked a little, indulging in her haughty persona for a few moments. As a solo female traveler, she was garnering some strange looks, but no one approached her. As she walked, her stomach growled quietly. She frowned, realizing she hadn’t eaten much during breakfast, and it was now after noon. She looked around, wondering if there were any fruit stands she could buy a snack from. She didn’t spot any immediately, so she went over to ask a pedestrian.

“Excuse me, can I get some help?” Isil asked politely.

“Oh, yes, what might you need?” The man she asked was all smiles as he responded.

“I’m looking for some fruit, do you know a place that sells some?”

“You’re quite in luck, I happen to have just received a large shipment of sammor fruit. I have a bit more than I anticipated, so I’d be glad to sell it to you for cheap.”

Opportunistic businessman, or love-struck fool? Can’t tell. Isil didn’t trust the man’s intentions, but she didn’t think she’d encounter anything tougher than persistent requests to stay longer. Though the introvert in her screamed in terror at the idea of refusing someone rudely, she had good reason to hurry. She wasn’t planning on seeing him again much after her visit with the king, either, so there wasn’t any need to worry about awkward reunions.

“Here’s my store, feel free to take your time.” The man said, politely gesturing to a three-storied building near the corner of the street.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I will, thank you.” She responded instinctively.

Isil let out a puff of air through her nose and combed the aisles for something that looked like an apple or banana. Although she wasn’t normally a fruit person, there were no granola bars or to-go bags of chips that she would normally eat. She quickly spotted an apple-like fruit that was edible. After asking her memory supplier, she learnt that it was the sammor fruit the man had mentioned earlier. It was edible, and she had previously eaten it often.

“I’ll just have this sammor.” Isil said, shaking it in her hand as she walked up to the man.

“Ah… just one? Surely there are more things I can-” He began to pitch a sale.

“No thanks. I was simply hungry and needed something to eat. Not planning any trips yet.”

“Well, alright. Those are usually five coppers each, but since we have so many, it’ll just be four.”

Isil didn’t bother replying. She jammed her hand into her pocket, using Inventory to insert the four coppers into her hand without being noticed. She handed him the four coppers and turned to leave.

“Wait,” The man said, reaching out and snatching Isil’s wrist. “My name is Marco Tovoso. What’s yours?”

Isil wasn’t fond of the man, and she didn’t appreciate him grabbing her wrist. She yanked her arm free of his grasp – a surprisingly large amount of effort being needed to do so – and continued.

“You don’t need to know.” She said curtly and continued out the door.

-_-_-

Isil bit into the sammor, surprised to find it tasted almost exactly like an apple. Though, if her taste buds were different than his body, then it might taste the same. She wasn’t too caught up on the details, however, as she didn’t desire to delve into another existential crisis. For the moment, she simply enjoyed the fruit as she closed in on the gate to the royal palace. Her eyes washed over the defences, allowing herself to admire Ashiron’s manpower.

The wall around the royal palace was the shortest of all the city walls, but was by far the thickest. It also had numerous defensive emplacements, including embrasures, murder holes, battlements, and multiple other fortifications. As was standard, the portcullis was shut on both sides, and four uniformed guards stood watch in front of it. Crossbowmen patrolled the tops of the walls, maintaining a close eye on anyone that approached the gatehouse.

“Halt! This is the gate to the royal palace, you cannot enter.” A gatesman stepped out of line and called out to her.

“I do believe I can.” Isil returned casually, reaching in to her pocket for her pass.

Alarmed by her words and actions, the gatesmen readied their pikes, causing many heads to turn towards Isil. She stopped when she noticed their actions, suddenly realizing how misleading her words and actions were to them. She slowly removed the royal pass from her pocket and approached the gate at a much slower pace. She made sure her hands were up in a surrender position as she did so.

Well, there goes the plan of being unnoticed. Isil sighed mentally.

“I would like to enter the palace, here is my pass.” Isil stopped in front of a gatesman and extended the pass to him.

He snatched it from her hands and backed away, calling someone to bring out an authentication stone to check her pass. While the stone was being brought out, Isil continued to wait in a surrender position, bobbing her head to imaginary music. She once again listlessly watched the process of her pass being authenticated. The gatesman informed his partners of her pass, and the tension dispersed.

“What is your reason for visiting?” The gatesman demanded, handing her pass back to her.

“Doesn’t the royal pass mean I’m free to go and leave as I choose? Do I have to tell you why every time?” Isil asked, somewhat frustrated.

“Even the princes do not have that luxury. What is your reason for visiting?”

“To smell the roses. What do you think?”

“What is your reason for visiting?”

“… Sorry, not really feeling all that great today. I’m here to visit His Majesty.”

“We were not informed of your arrival.”

“It’s a surprise visit, you’re not supposed to.”

“… Very well. Your documents are in order. Do not cause trouble while you are inside, should you do as such, your punishment will be severe. Raise the gates!”

“As if I didn’t already know that...”

The portcullis creaked up, opening roughly a third of the way to allow for Isil to enter. She briskly walked in. It rumbled shut behind her while the inner gate opened for her. She palmed the pass, thumbing the pages to hear the rustling sound before disguising it as putting it in her pocket while actually putting it back into her inventory. The guards inside the gate kept a close eye on her as she walked past, the stares making her somewhat uncomfortable.

She stepped into the garden that surrounded the North entrance to the garden, the gate slamming shut alarmingly quick behind her. The noise caused her to wince and whirl her head around, but the guards at the gate were unmoving. She shook her head and continued forward, heading directly towards the bridge over the castle’s moat. It was not a moat to prevent siege weapons, but rather a man-made stream meant for decorative purposes. The fact that it would prevent siege weapons from getting close was an unintended benefit.

“Pretty.” Isil remarked, taking a minute to lean against the bridge railing and admire the garden.

“Indeed it is,” A deep, regal voice announced itself from behind her. “It was as how We desired it.”

Isil turned around, immediately assuming a casual position by leaning her back against the railing and crossing her arms. She smiled in a self-satisfied manner upon seeing who it was. A man dressed in fine robing, a crown that appeared to be more of a golden headband, inlaid with jewels, sat atop his head. He wore no smile on his lined face, and his green eyes carried no youthful flicker as he kept his wary gaze. A thin sword rested in a scabbard at his hip, unadorned, but made of great material. His age appeared to be around the late 50s or early 60s, as evident by his graying chestnut brown hair. This was the man she was planning on meeting, King Samil Darvos II.

“Majestic plural? Really? … Doesn’t suit you.” Isil remarked jokingly, which only seemed to cause Samil’s face to turn sterner.

“Does not suit me? Since when were you, someone I do not know, an expert on me? Moreover, how did you get in here?” King Darvos seemed to grow more infuriated with every sentence.

“… I expected this, and yet it still hurts. Damn,” Isil remarked stiffly, pulling her royal pass out of her pocket without bother with the pocket trick. “Might want to take a look at this.”

She tossed the pass to him, and he caught it with ease. His eyes remained on her, as he brought it to a reading position. His eyes flickered to the cover of the pass, causing him to furrow his brows. He looked around, spotting his guards close enough nearby to intervene should Isil try anything. He tabbed through the pass, utterly confused at the information within it. Royal passes could only be issued by the king himself, so how did this person have their own pass without him knowing.

“A forged pass? What about it?” The king remarked, unimpressed.

“Forged?” Isil pushed herself off the railing and began pacing as she spoke. “That’s weird, because I just walked through four gates to get to your courtyard and had to present my pass for two of them. Both of them checked it, and it was authentic both times. They even used an authentication stone. So how come you think it’s fake?”

“I have trouble believing you. This pass was issued only seven years ago, and I was still king back then. I think I would remember giving this to you. More importantly, I think I would remember you.”

“Yes you really should, I tried to leave an impression.” Isil chuckled, stopping and spreading her arms out and shrugging.

“Tell me, who are you?” The king asked, tossing the pass back to her feet.

“...” Isil frowned, annoying that everything she was saying wasn’t jogging his memory. “Battle of Hilder Heights. We were surrounded on all sides, and there was only fifty-two men left. You stood on a stack of boxes and declared that you would happily die if it got the ‘survivors to do something more than survive.’ Moving speech, really did touch me. Tell me, after you, who was the first to charge down the hillside?”

“How did you hear that?!” The calmness of the king’s demeanor completely disappeared when Isil mentioned the event.

“I was there when the Coward King turned and ran. I was there when dawn broke and the priests failed to come to our aide. I was there when the Ulblaadaan army told us there was no help. I was there when you took the survivors and escaped. I was there when you reach the walls of Futak and were denied entrance. I was there when you gave in and lost all hope. And I was there when you found it again.”

“… Who are you…?” The king asked, sounding almost threatened.

“Isil von Caligo. The Hero of Dawn, Savior of Life, Dynast Mage, Mana Sage, and more. It is good to see you again, old friend."