Master Healer Zeran looked up at me from over his fingers, steepled in front of his face. With a vacantly pleasant grin plastered in place, I ignored my feet, screaming for me to shuffle, and kept my body rigid instead. I couldn’t let this man see my anxiety or how badly I needed a yes from him. Rejections had trailed me since graduation, and I couldn’t take another one. Not today.

Zeran flattened his hands on the desk, taking a deep breath, and I knew I wouldn’t get what I needed.

“I’m sorry, Novice Eriadren. Your qualifications are more than adequate,” he said, “but I have no need for another assistant at this time.”

He’d repeated nearly word for word what every other healer in the city had told me, and for a moment, panic threatened to send me, begging, to my knees. If Zeran refused me, I’d have no other options for training. I wouldn’t advance beyond the rank of a novice healer, and no one went to see a novice unless they were desperate. The desperate didn’t usually have much coin either.

Before I could humiliate myself, however, a blanket of icy calm fell over me, and instead of screaming my need at Zeran, I bowed.

“Thank you for your consideration,” I said.

“Of course,” Zeran said. “Good luck to you.”

Straightening, I headed for the door, but before I opened it, I glanced over my shoulder, daring a final question.

“Are you following Councilman Reive’s orders as well?”

His flinch was the only answer I needed.

Outside, Arivor was waiting for me, tapping his jittery hands on his thighs. The bright expression that he turned on me fell as soon as he saw my face.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

Hoping to move on from my failure, I joined the flow of street traffic with no destination in mind, letting my feet wander. Arivor, however, wasn’t ready to let the subject drop.

“Was it my uncle again?” he asked.

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“When is it not Councilman Reive?” I said.

My feet apparently wanted to take me toward the slums, seeing as how the buildings around us were getting steadily dingier. I corrected them, pointing myself toward the home of my newest host.

The only good thing to come from the revelation of my parentage was that I’d suddenly become a hot commodity to the wealthy. Everyone wanted to welcome the displaced noble’s son into their home, but I knew this fascination wouldn’t last. If I wanted to avoid sleeping on the streets, I had to find a way to support myself. Soon.

But how?

Of course, this conundrum lay partially wrapped in how I could learn the healing arts without a teacher.

As my feet slowed down, I considered those words. Without a teacher. There was something in that.

“I wish you’d let me help you,” Arivor said. “I may not carry as much weight as my uncle but-”

“No. I won’t ruin your reputation,” I said. “Not more than it already is by your association with me.”

“Why should I care what the vultures think?” Arivor growled. “My whole life, you’re the only one who’s been my friend for me, not because of my family.”

“And that’s why I’m telling you to keep your distance,” I said. “Besides, I have an idea.”

“Really?”

Nodding, I said, “Why would I have one healer teach me when I can learn from the best?”

“What do you mean?” Arivor asked.

Flipping to face him, I continued on, walking backward.

“I mean that I’ve always learned best from books. Having graduated and become a novice healer, I have access to our school’s library as well as the city’s. I’ll study in these places and take my advancement tests when my knowledge meets their requirements.”

Arivor screwed his face up as he considered what I’d proposed.

“The guild won’t like it,” he said. “If you operate outside of their norms, they won’t let you practice in one of their healing houses.”

“Then, I’ll have to establish one of my own,” I said, facing forward again. “It’ll take a lot of coin, though.”

And I was already struggling to find a means of supporting myself. Given that, how would I earn enough to open my own shop?

“Eri,” Arivor said.

Glancing at him, I noted his smirk and raised finger. Following it, I cocked my head at the crowd gathering outside of a building ahead, but on observing the crier at the door, I clicked my tongue.

A brawler’s den. In the last year, these places had grown quite popular among the merchants and nobles alike, which I found funny. Fights like this had been funding the slum’s gangs for as long as I could remember.

“A bunch of idiots congregating to watch people beat each other up,” I said. “What about it?”

“Do you know how much money those brawlers take home at night?” Arivor hissed. “You’re fantastic in a fight, and coming from the slums, you’d have plenty of tricks that the others won’t. Plus, if you fight, whoever organizes these brawls might let you practice your healing arts outside the ring.”

That… wasn’t a terrible idea, much as I hated it. I could at least start from there.

Pounding on Arivor’s back, I said, “I knew I kept you around for a reason. Feel like braving this den of violence with me?”

Arivor flashed me a smile.

“Most definitely.”

Together, we pushed and prodded our way through the line of spectators trying to get inside.