The buildings in town were made of red-gray stones instead of wood. Well-defined walkways parted the space between buildings and were tiled with smooth stones. All plant life seemed to abruptly stop on the other side of the moat surrounding the town.

The lack of greenery put all the filth and dirt on display, standing out as dark patches against the pavement, but realistically it was probably cleaner than the forest. The air was a little dusty and stale, though.

People were busy walking every which way, looking quite busy as they went. T’faide startled as a bell suddenly chimed, its toll reaching every corner of the town.

Standing completely still and staring from their position just inside the gates, their family was a textbook example of country folk seeing a city for the first time.

Niasha recovered first, looking at her stunned son and lover and clearing her throat. “Let’s hold hands. It looks easy to get lost in that crowd.”

Arwin bobbed his head and clung to her hand like an anxious puppy, and T’faide took her other hand, still gawking at the foreign sights.

Lulura, sitting safely in her self-made bubble in T’faide’s staff, muttered, “I’ve only ever seen fish and insects packed so closely together…”

“Never wander alone here,” Niasha warned her, and the faerie bobbed her head.

As a group, they slowly made their way down the street, trying not to get jostled around as much as possible, but there was just no way to avoid bumping shoulders with strangers. When Lulura pointed out the first building with a bed drawn on its sign, they slipped inside without a second thought.

The small family released each other’s hands and took a moment just to breathe, casting off the tension of being surrounded by tides of strangers.

T’faide came back to himself and instinctively stiffened when he looked around their new surroundings.

This was an inn: a place where travelers could stay while they were in town. The walls and floor were stone, but the ceiling was wooden, indicating a second floor, and there was a large desk standing close to the entrance where a worker was stationed. To the side, there was a series of long wooden tables with benches for chairs. Many of the seats were filled with people eating their first meal of the day.

It seemed like everybody inside had turned to see who had entered when the bell above the door chimed, and the looks they were giving him made T’faide uncomfortable.

They were the intense, curious stares of someone seeing a rare beast for the first time. There were both positive and negative cues worked into the gazes, but it wasn’t the sort of look you turned on a peer or a friend.

T’faide and his family were strangers to the plains, but he suddenly felt strange in general.

The boy caught movement out of the corner of his eye: his father’s ears twitching. T’faide strained to hear what the people were whispering about them, but it was too faint for him. He only vaguely caught the word “elf” tossed once.

T’faide peered up at his parents for support; at his mother’s strong, stony face and his father’s surprisingly composed expression.

Arwin caught him looking, smiled once for him, and patted him on the head.

“There are a lot of people here,” he said. “I hope they have rooms left.”

They approached the front counter as a group, and Niasha spoke to the receptionist.

“We heard this is a place where travelers can stay. Can we use one of the rooms here?”

The spindly woman manning the desk glanced at T’faide’s mother as she spoke, but her eyes kept wandering back to Arwin and T’faide. Her eyes widened when she noticed Lulura, small and mostly hidden in T’faide’s staff.

“… We have some rooms left. Each one costs six bronze a night, or forty bronze for the whole week. Meals are an extra three bronze each day and include breakfast and supper. You can rent a candle or a washtub for two bronze apiece.” The spindly woman recited the inn’s rates with the stiff fluency of a crow taught to say just that one phrase.

Niasha nodded and lowered the magic bag off of her shoulders, crouching down and digging through it for the money they had. Arwin soon joined her and pointed out the difference between the bronze and silver coins.

“How many bronze makes a silver?” he asked while they were calculating how much to purchase.

“T-ten to one,” the woman stuttered, her eyes fixed widely on the handfuls of silver coins mixed in with the bronze that they were sorting through.

“Thank you,” Arwin smiled politely at her before turning away again. The woman’s face flushed, and she pretended to do something with the shelves behind her, still peeking over her shoulder to catch glimpses of the first elf she’d ever seen.

Something about the look on her face while she was peeping at his father made T’faide’s stomach churn.

Niasha was focused on her task. She carefully counted off sets of ten bronze coins and exchanged each stack for a silver coin.

Arwin watched for a short while before patting her gently on the shoulder. “How much do you want to pay for?”

“One room for one week, so we can rest and look around. Maybe plan a new destination. Meals each day.”

The elf separated six silver coins and one bronze coin from the batch without pausing to calculate.

I should ask dad to teach me how to do that, T’faide marveled.

Math was one of the many things elves had time to play around with and get good at.

Niasha’s pride wasn’t hurt; she just closed the bag and stood up, dusting off her knees. Arwin patted the dust off his robes with his empty hand, then offered the fee to the innkeeper.

“One… one moment,” she said, taking the coins and some kind of tool out from under the counter. She moved around some wooden rings, looked between the tool and the coins, and finally nodded. “The amount is correct.”

T’faide felt a hint of smugness; that his father was better at calculating money than people who used it everyday.

The receptionist took a small iron key from a peg on the wall, glancing strangely at Arwin for the umpteenth time, a hint of pink on her tan cheeks. She stood there rigidly, not passing the key over.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

“Oh! No,” the inkeeper quickly passed the key over, looking somewhat disappointed and embarrassed when Niasha insisted on being the one to take it from her. It seemed she had also noticed how strange this woman was being and didn’t like it any more than T’faide did.

The receptionist folded her hands in front of her waist and asked a question. “I was just wondering… are you possibly an elf, sir?”

“Yes?” Arwin tipped his head, a little confused by the question that he thought had such an obvious answer.

“A real elf?” she pressed. “Not a halfelf or anything like that?”

Arwin frowned and replied flatly, “Is there something wrong with halfelves?”

The woman’s eyes flickered over to T’faide and back, and the boy made sure to glare at her while he had the chance.

“I’ve just never seen a pure-blooded elf before!” she hurried to explain. “You’re… very handsome.”

T’faide rolled his eyes while Arwinthall showed the woman an inscrutable (but certainly not happy) smile.

“May I ask why you came to visit our town?” the receptionist tried.

Arwinthall made a point of smiling brightly at her, “You may not.”

As if his stance had finally been hammered into her head, the receptionist hung her neck quietly. “Yes, well… please enjoy your stay.”

The room they had purchased was on the third floor of the inn, up two flights of stairs. Unlike in the lobby, there was nobody else just loitering here. Now that they had some privacy, Arwin glanced down at Niasha. “Am I handsome?” he asked her.

“Well, yeah,” she shrugged and smiled a bit.

Arwin showed a glowing expression that would’ve made the inn receptionist swoon, but it just made Niasha chuckle. She reached up to pat him on the head like a small animal. When she was done, he took her hand to hold and didn’t let go until they were in their room.

The room was modestly decorated. There was a small window with wooden shutters to keep the wind and rain out, as well as a set of thin linen curtains. Below the window was a small wooden desk. There was a dresser with drawers to keep their things in, a coat hanger next to the door, and a single bed, wide enough for a family of five to cram into.

“So,” Niasha set the magic bag gently on the bed. “We made it to town, and we have a place to stay for the week. There are tall stone walls and a moat here, and plenty of sunlight on the plains.” T’faide and Arwin nodded along to what she was saying. “We should be safe from demons here, so what do we do next?”

“Oh oh!” Lulura stuck her dusty pink arm outside of T’faide’s staff and waved it around. “I want to find a Cleric or a Bard to heal my wings!”

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Druids were capable of the same kind of regenerative magic, but Arwinthall wasn’t powerful enough to use it. Healing Lulura’s wings meant finding someone more skilled than he was at magic here in the city.

“They use money here, so it’ll probably cost a lot,” T’faide mentioned.

Arwinthall lifted his hand, “I’m planning to sell some of the artworks I brought to see what they’re worth.”

Niasha held her chin and muttered, “Should I find a job? There’s not much for me to do now that we’re here.”

Niasha did very important work like cooking and keeping watch while they were traveling, and she was the emotional and psychological backbone of their group that consisted of a child, a childish fey, and a sentimental elf.

Her role in the city, where their needs were met by money alone, had been reduced just to being their rock. But she wasn’t a woman who liked or was used to sitting around doing nothing all day.

Niasha stroked her chin for a few moments longer, glanced at her lover, child, and faerie tagalong, and hummed.

“For now, I’m going to figure out what it takes to live in this town, how to get a house and some land, and learn the common sense around here.”

“A house?” T’faide asked. “I thought we weren’t even sure if we would stay in this town.”

“Niasha nodded. I’ll look into that too, but if this is a place we like, we’re going to need a house and some land. I don’t know how long your father can put up with this sort of environment.”

T’faide looked around, noting the wooden floor, ceiling, and furniture, and the linen textiles: all things made from plants. It was very possible that his father’s eyes were picking out signs of “abuse” in the workmanship that bothered him. But probably more stressful would be the complete lack of living plants in the vicinity. That was surely why his mother had emphasized obtaining land: so they could grow things on it.

Arwin, meanwhile, smiled awkwardly. “I told you, I’m fine. And anyway, we’re getting a little too far ahead of ourselves here.”

“You’re right,” Niasha nodded. “Let’s just start with the basics. I want everyone to meet back here by the middle of the day.”

***

T’faide held his staff tightly, wondering if maybe it was a mistake to go on an errand in such a large town alone. Technically Lulura was with him, but he wasn’t sure how much help a wingless faerie would be if something went wrong. And now that his father wasn’t around, he could feel more stares pointed right at him. They weren’t all bad stares, but they still made him uncomfortable.

“Don’t just stand in the middle of the road, Tiff.”

“I told you not to call me that,” he whispered back, forcing his feet to start moving again. “And I lost track of the temple with all these people in the way.”

“Hold me up; I’ll take a look.”

T’faide lifted his staff higher than the heads of the adult humans around him, and Lulura called down. “It’s in front of us and to the left!”

T’faide sighed in relief and brought her back down so he could move comfortably. It was relatively less crowded immediately around the temple as people respectfully kept their distance. The building itself was made of some kind of sparkling white stone, and the roof was tall and sharp, topped with a glittering metal ornament shaped like three intersecting circles. The double-door entrance was wide open.

“My heart is pounding,” the little fey muttered, holding her chest and peering into the temple.

T’faide took a deep breath and started up the steps. The inside of the temple had a peculiar but beautiful look. Long wooden benches stretched across the room, leaving a single aisle in the middle to walk down. The walls were painted with some sort of story art, and close to the ceiling there were windows made of shattered glass in many bright colors. The ceiling was carved into different sections, and those were painted with images of humans with wings.

Sitting here and there on the benches were what looked to be ordinary townsfolk, but there were others wearing peculiar white and black robes who stood out to T’faide. He approached one of the robed people.

“Excuse me, are you a Cleric?”

The robed person, a plain-looking man with long graying hair tied back behind his head, smiled gently and got on his knees.

“Sadly not, child, I am but a humble priest.”

“Can you use religious magic?” T’faide tried again.

The priest shook his head. “Not all of the gods’ faithful servants are gifted such power. What do you need a Cleric for, dear boy?”

T’faide moved his hands up his staff to draw attention to the small wicker bulb with the little glowing faerie inside. “My friend lost her wings. Do you know anyone who can heal her?”

The priest peered at Lulura, his narrow eyes blinking a few times in surprise.

“Ah… Only our High Cleric is capable of that here. Because of that, many people call on him. If you’ll wait here, I can go and ask when the next time is that he can see you.”

The boy nodded. “Thank you. We’ll wait here.”

While the priest stood up and walked away, T’faide found a place to sit on one of the benches, then he whispered to Lulura, “That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

“I know, right?” she whispered back. “I guess that’s the good thing about a town with so many people.”

They settled down to wait, and T’faide ended up eavesdropping on a couple of other priests that walked by: two young human women who looked just as clean and plain as the man earlier. Since his halfelf ears had failed him in the noisy inn, he decided to train them a little with this.

“Brother Roland is out on another demon-hunting mission with the others, isn’t he?”

“This is his third one, I think. It’s been two days, so they should be back soon.”

“He’s so young, but so hardworking. It’s no wonder the gods blessed him with their magic.”

“I’ll be praying they all come back to us safely again. It would be terrible to lose even one Cleric, let alone someone so young and talented.”

The priests left earshot after that.

Clerics and Wizards should have the same problem with attracting demons. They must know the best way to fight them. If I have the chance, I should ask about how they do it.

Whether or not he could apply their methods was another matter for another day.

The priest returned shortly with unhurried steps, and T’faide stood up to greet him.

“How is it? Does he have time to see us?”

With a faintly apologetic smile, the priest spoke to him. “The next time the High Cleric can see someone is two months from now, since your friend’s injury isn’t life-threatening.”

Lulura hung her head sadly, and T’faide nodded. “Okay. We’ll be here.”

“I’m sorry to mention this,” the priest added, “but there is a fee for such powerful healing. Ten gold coins. I hope you can acquire it during these two months.”

The boy blinked. “How many silver coins make a gold coin?”

“That would be fifty.”

T’faide thought back on how many silver coins he saw when his parents were picking out the inn fee. He doubted they had that much silver. They probably had a hundred silver at most, which was only… two gold.

He gripped his staff tightly and said, “We’ll manage. Please make time for us in two months.”

I don’t want Lulura to wait longer than two months to get her wings back.

The priest smiled and nodded. “I’ll schedule you for now, but let us know if you can’t make it as soon as possible so that others in need can take your place. What’s your fey friend’s name?”

“I’m called Lulura!” she said.

“Lulura. Please be here with the fee on the fourteenth day two months from now. High Cleric Aldean will heal you good as new.”

***

As T’faide and Lulura exited the temple, they paused on the steps to chat.

“Ten gold coins are worth hundreds of silver,” Lulura said. “Do we really have that much?”

T’faide pursed his lips, “It’ll be fine. We’ll let my parents know how much your healing costs, and they’ll figure something out.”

“I hope so…” Lulura sighed and let her legs swing through the gaps in her perch. “Hm? Hey, Tiff, look. It’s another Elf.”

She pointed out into the crowd, and T’faide curiously followed her finger. He saw a group of five people, all wearing white robes and bronze armor that gleamed like gold. Some carried staves, while others held shields and hammers. At the front of the group, chatting pleasantly with the others, was a young man, with short, curly blonde hair and fair skin.

However, as the group approached the church, it was obvious that this young man’s skin was too pink for an elf and his ears were too round.

“Er, or not,” the faerie scratched her head awkwardly.

T’faide was curious. It was his first time seeing someone who was neither a human, an elf, or a halfelf like he was used to. He didn’t know what this person was, but he forced himself not to stare too much, since he knew he didn’t like to be stared at himself. He did peek a bit, though, and apparently the pink-skinned person noticed, because he sent his companions ahead into the temple and walked up to T’faide alone.

“Morning,” the stranger in white and gold smiled brightly. “Is there anything the temple can help you with?”

“We already talked to one of the priests inside,” T’faide answered.

The man in gold blinked, his welcoming smile still firmly in place. “Aha, seems like I’m just butting in then. Is this your first time seeing Clerics on their way back from an expedition?”

The stranger was bright and glittery, and he was more handsome than most humans even if he wasn’t quite as good-looking as an elf or halfelf. T’faide realized he was being treated like a little kid, but he had to admit that he didn’t hate it. With his cheeks slightly flushed, he lowered his head and nodded.

“So you’re a Cleric?”

“That’s right, I’m a Cleric here. My name’s Roland.”

That name instantly rang a bell in T’faide’s head. He remembered the priests gossiping about a Cleric named Roland just a minute ago. To think his chance to ask this question would come so soon.

Tightly gripping his staff, T’faide asked, “How do you kill demons? What’s the best method?”

“Killing demons, huh?” Roland straightened his back and dropped the service smile. “My first advice would be ‘don’t try it.’ Unless you’re a warrior or a caster with training, you’ll probably just get yourself hurt. It’s safe in the city, so you should just stay inside the walls until you’re older.”

T’faide shook his head. “Even if I’m still a kid, I’m a caster. I’ll have to fight demons some day unless I stay in this city for the rest of my life. I won’t go looking for trouble, but please teach me how to defend myself.”

Roland smiled faintly and put his hands on his hips. “So you’re a little Bard, I guess? Alright, I’ll tell you how to fight them, I just hope you meant what you said. This is just for self-defense.”

T’faide nodded seriously.

“Right, so do you know what a demon’s weaknesses are?”

“Water and sunlight?” the boy said.

“That’s it, yeah. They can’t move if they get caught in either. Learn some magic to create water or sunlight, then beat them over the head with a rock or something while they can’t move. I know it’s lame, but they’re really sturdy and they can throw fire, so that’s the safest way to fight.” Roland showed T’faide another sunny smile, “Always fight to your advantage.”

The halfelf nodded his head, deep in thought. The strategy Roland gave him was simple, but very effective. I’m sure I can make a spell that creates sunlight.

“Thank you. I’m glad I got to ask someone who’s actually fought demons before.”

“Yep! They sound easier to kill than I thought!” Lulura chimed in.

“You’re welco—” Roland cut himself off and looked left and right. “Um, did you hear a girl’s voice just now?”

Lulura puffed up her cheeks and unwound the wicker bulb she was sitting in. “Hey, I’ve been here the whole time. It’s rude not to notice.”

Roland blinked and leaned in close. “Wow, you’re a faerie? Sorry, I thought it was just a glowing staff. But your friend must be a pretty talented Bard if he’s already got a faerie following him around.”

“He’s not a Bard,” Lulura huffed.

Roland looked to T’faide for confirmation, and he nodded.

“She’s right. I'm a Wizard.”

“What’s a Wizard?”

The boy played absentmindedly with his staff, prompting Lulura to seal off her little wicker bulb and hold on tight. “I’m not sure yet, since it’s a new kind of magic…” Feeling awkward that he couldn’t explain his own profession, the boy forced a subject change. “W-what about you? What are you?”

Roland smiled softly. “I guess you’re not asking about what a Cleric is. I’m not a mystical creature or anything, just a human from far away. I came from across the sea with my parents when I was little. Where I’m from, it snows for half the year, or so I’ve heard.”

T’faide nodded, prompting Roland to laugh.

“Usually I have to explain what snow is. Have you seen it before?”

“A little. Since I grew up in a Druid village, I was taught about different climates.”

“I bet Druids can make snow, can’t they? I’m a little jealous. I was too young to remember what it looks like, so all I have is the stories my parents told me.”

A female priest stepped out of the temple and called gently down, “Brother Roland, the baths are ready. I can help this person while you change into your vestments.”

“Thank you, Sister Rosalie. I’ll be right there,” Roland gave a slight wave. “I got caught up in our conversation, but I’d better get going now. What were your names?”

“I’m Lulura!” said the faerie, unwilling to be forgotten again.

“I’m T’faide.”

“Next time we meet, I’d like to hear more about the village where you grew up and about what a Wizard is,” Roland said, offering a final smile and wave as he returned to the temple.

The halfelf quickly made his way down the steps so that more priests wouldn’t come to him thinking he still needed help.

“He was cool,” the boy murmured, but it was lost in the din of the crowd.

Maybe that’s what a big brother would be like?

“What’d you say? Tiff, you’re making a weird face.”

“Shut up, I am not!”

“Are too!”

Feeling a variety of new emotions, T’faide walked them both back to the inn.