Lisa got changed before they left, since the clothes she wore were more suited to training and rolling around the ground, trying to wrestle a treasure away from a helpless kid, than shopping. Not that she said that and not that Micah was helpless—except for maybe in comparison—but he could guess.

He gathered up his things while they waited and made amusing Smalltalk with Garen (“How have you been?” — “Good, good. And you?” — “Good, good.” — “Alright, nice talk.”) He guessed he wasn’t going to sell any of his loot after all. He didn’t need to anymore. That was good news because then Micah could use them all freely in potion experiments. Even the fire crystals whose essence he couldn’t even see … Yay.

Yeah, no.

If Micah didn’t get a recipe today that explicitly stated it needed fire crystals, he was going to make use of the price increase he’d caused and sell them. What had Lisa said? Two iron coins? That meant they were ten times as valuable as his flesh crystals. They’d do well in funding his day passes for the next few weekends. Plus, selling them was Micah’s best bet at making a profit.

Lisa came back stuffing a bundle of shopping bags into a small backpack and they got going. Micah hoped the bags were for him. He only had the one with him that was already mostly full, after all, and he never liked buying new ones in the market.

She was also wearing the mana ring that he’d given her, but he only recognized it by sight alone. The distortion effect that had spooked him back then seemed to be gone now. It was replaced by a faint sheen.

Micah wondered what that meant. That it was full? And why was she only wearing it now? He guessed maybe wearing a mana ring at home might feel like wearing a sword at all times if you were a [Sword Fighter]—maybe it was just awkward? When he asked Lisa about it, though, she said it was more like a full waterskin sloshing around on your hand.

Huh. So he’d been pretty close, then.

Lisa had brought his—or rather, her—salamander crystal inside with her, too. It disappeared somewhere in the house.

Before they could step outside, though, Garen made a point of addressing them at the gate.

“Just to be clear, kids. I’m not going to allow you to spend three gold coins in one day.” He glanced meaningfully at Lisa then, as if to warn her more than Micah. “We’re just going to get you some basic equipment, maybe a trinket or two, and some things you need for your alchemy, and that’s it. Any more would be a waste. You’re going to grow out of most things in a week anyway”—Micah frowned and glanced at Lisa. Was her chin closer than it had been four days ago? Probably not—“and spending that much money at once is never wise. Who knows what you might need in the future?”

Lisa looked a little dejected, but Micah nodded along, saying, “Of course.”

He hadn’t been planning on spending all of it in one day anyway. What would his parents say? But he could feel the excitement bubbling up in his chest. Finally, he was going shopping for proper climber things.

“So, where do we go first?” Garen asked, looking to Lisa as they headed out. They closed the gate behind them but didn’t lock it shut. Micah guessed someone must still be home, then.

“Kayan closes in less than an hour,” Lisa said. “If you want to get him outfitted. Alchemist Guild is further out. Anything else we can get in the Southeast Bazaar.”

Garen frowned and nudged his head at Micah.

“Kayan’s is too expensive. His outfitting fees have gotten ridiculous ever since he got that Skill of his.”

What Skill? Micah wondered.

“He does sell ready-made stuff,” Lisa commented.

“Oh. Right,” Garen said as if he had forgotten about that. He scratched his chin. “Okay, then. What do we need? Some armguards, legguards, maybe a shirt?”

“Shirt might be too heavy for him,” Lisa said. “We’re going chain-mesh, right?”

“Of course. But he’s just going to have to get used it.”

Again, two “adults” were talking over him but strangely enough, Micah didn’t mind this time. He was more interested in listening.

They started arguing about how schools didn't fully-equip first-year students with armor because they wanted them to learn that they had to be careful, and that it might be wise to do the same for him, but they all three quickly dismissed that thought. Micah had enough experience in the Tower to know that already. He had learned that lesson the hard way and remembered how safely he had fought the Salamanders yesterday. Armor could be nothing but good.

But as he walked, he wondered if that was really the only reason why schools didn’t outfit first-year students. Even if they were teaching care through pain, it seemed a little too noble to Micah. He knew teachers were required to bring middle-grade healing potions into the Tower when they went with students, too, and suspected doing both—buying the expendable potions and outfitting and maintaining armor for growing children—was simply too expensive.

That fit more into the behavior adults had ...

He eyed Garen acting like either a child or a gossiping Grandma next to Lisa.

... well, most adults.

All the while they headed to this “Kayan” fellow, the other two bantered over his head. They talked about more rumors of the Tower—apparently, people were hearing singing in some places in the Garden. They thought it was Dwarfish, but they didn’t know the proper pronunciation so they weren’t sure. Then they talked about people. How a girl called Myra had learned the [Fireball] spell recently and now thought she was all that when she really wasn’t—Garen told Lisa he knew for a fact little Myra could only cast one fireball per day—how Lady Moure had bought a new music player and was replacing actual musicians with it at all her parties lately—people were calling her a cheapskate, but she said it was the newest fashion from Lighthouse—and how the Madins were apparently planning on sending their fourth child to the Climber’s school, to “keep an eye on it.”

Whatever that meant.

Lisa asked about that again, and Garen had to assure her that it was true.

They’re actually gossips, Micah realized then, a little horrified. The both of them.

He tried to tune them out as they walked, but every now and again, something caught his interest. It was interesting just to observe a conversation about a whole different world, or rather, of a whole different family. Because more and more, Micah realized that Garen and Lisa really did behave like one. They had the same way of talking, aside from Lisa not gesturing nearly as much, and they seemed to compliment each other. It was like how when Lang and Ryan could dribble past the entire enemy team when they were working together.

In this case, as was often during alleyball, Micah was the dribble-ee. He just trailed along as they headed down the street, both excitedly curious and nervously confused, like a new puppy.

Finally, they ushered him through the door of a nondescript building, right into the hands of a portly man named Kayan who tried to put him on a literal pedestal. Lisa quickly shook her head and pointed at a door in the corner of the room.

Through it, they stepped into what looked a lot like a shoe shop. Armor in all shapes and sizes lay on shelves that made aisles or adorned the walls. Micah wondered how could the man afford to have so many different things on display.

Garen looked a little lost as he wandered in.

“Been ages since I stepped in here,” he commented.

Outside of the windows, Micah could see a busier street. Did they always take the back entrance into places?

Before he could ask, Lisa dragged him over to the right side of the room and made him try on all sorts of armguards. They were made with a leather base and a layer of chain-mesh on top. They were cool enough, but all the while he tried them on, Micah eyed the metal gauntlets just a few steps away. When he mentioned them, Lisa shook her head and said, “Gloves offer more freedom.”

“Yeah, but the gauntlets look cool,” Micah insisted.

Eventually, they settled on a middle ground with a sleeve he could slip over his hand. It had a half-glove that stretched between two fingers and only covered his palm. Since it was thin, he could wear real gloves over them. At least, they’d offer some protection when he didn’t wear any, for whatever reason.

Then they spend another twenty minutes fitting on what felt like a hundred different legguards, until Lisa was satisfied with both how they looked, fit, what they were made of, and how he could move around in them.

… she stuffed him into a chainmail shirt and made Micah do somersaults. It was kind of embarrassing. Especially when another customer came in with some items for repair. But it did help weed out a lot of the ones that weren’t any good.

In the end, the shirt and two arm- and legguards costed Micah two whole silver coins and a silver penny. That was a little more than a third of his first gold coin gone. Garen and Lisa both assured him it was a great price for the quality, and Micah was pretty sure he got a discount because he was there with Garen, but he couldn’t help but feel a little sad about the missing money. He would rather have bought second-hand stuff in the Bazaar for cheap.

He clutched his shopping bag against his chest and mumbled, “Alright,” as they left. To show them that he understood.

“Come again soon!” Kayan called after them.

“Where next?” Garen asked. “Riverstreet? To the Bazaar?”

Lisa shook her head and pointed down the street. “Smith first.”

The smith turned out to have an open shop just a few houses down. A constant banging and ringing sounded from it and a river of heat essence poured out from its entrance into the sky. Micah saw a pale kid about his age hammering away at a bauble in the corner. He looked kind of scrawny, so Micah assumed he must have a Skill that let him work here.

It made Micah wonder if [Lesser Strength] gave you actual muscles or if it just made you stronger.

“A little bit of both,” Garen told him.

He handed in his mother’s hunting knife and got a receipt that told him he could come to pick it up in four days. They also bought him a nondescript looking dagger before they left, which was a little too long for Micah’s tastes, but Garen said he would grow into, along with a set of things to care for it. It had a sheath that Micah could strap to his belt, but when Micah tried to do it, Garen took one glance at him and said they also needed to buy him a new belt.

They also suggested buying a short sword, but Micah had seen the price tags on some of the showcases and quickly shook his head. He preferred daggers anyway.

“Wanna give it some swings later?” Garen asked as they walked over the bridge into Watertown. It was north of Riverbend and bordered on both the Tower and the Southeast portion of the Climber’s Bazaar.

“What, like in the Tower?” he asked, surprised at the suggestion.

The man nodded.

“I have to go in later anyway for some errands, I can stamp you in,” he said.

“Oh.”

Micah’s hopes fell. He’d thought Garen would come with him. He glanced at Lisa, but she already shook her head, knowing what he wanted to ask.

“I have to lock up after Mave,” she confessed, “and I also really kind of want to summon that Salamander today.”

“Right.” Micah nodded.

So he would be on his own again. Nevermind, Micah still wanted to try himself out. He told Garen as much as they stepped into the busy streets of another part of the Bazaar, one that Micah had never even visited before. He put all of his stuff in his shopping bag and tied its ropes around his wrist, in case of pickpockets. He knew you were supposed to disperse your stuff instead, but he didn’t like the idea of having anything stolen from him. Even just a little bit.

Garen and Lisa, on the other hand, seemed suddenly two times broader as they squared their shoulders, set their jaws, and strutted on through the crowd. They walked as if they owned the place, which, considering how little Micah knew about them, might even have been true.

They bought him a backpack, two thick shirts, and a belt at one stall, and a new pair of pants and a different, really broad belt at another. Apparently, Micah was supposed to wear that second belt around his waist and over the chain-mesh shirt. It felt a little weird at first because it was so tight, but at least it kept everything together.

He briefly wondered why they hadn’t bought that stuff at Kayan’s, but when he heard the price that Garen had haggled the wares down to, he began to understand. Some things were probably worth buying expensively and some just weren’t.

Micah didn’t really care. He was just thankful that Garen and Lisa were there to help him. While those two looked through other things for themselves, Micah spotted a stall selling herbs, potions, and other stuff and made his way over. It looked like a real apothecary’s stand.

They had sheets of beeswax, too, which were really cheap.

Micah wanted to buy some, but Garen appeared behind him all the sudden with a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. He asked the nice lady selling them a bunch of questions, stopped midway through one of her answers, and took the sheet out of Micah’s hand. He put it back and dragged Micah away.

“What was that for?” he demanded, glancing back at the scowl on the woman’s face. She’d been so nice, too.

“They weren’t any good,” Garen just said.

Micah wondered how sheets of beeswax possibly couldn’t be any good, but it was too late to protest. And he trusted Garen. If he said they weren’t any good, they probably weren’t.

Micah guessed … he kind of just wished he’d been able to see why for himself.

Two streets later, Lisa pointed out a small shop to him and Micah’s slight scowl lifted again. They went in together and bought some of the same stuff there. They came in the shape of bars that had the word “Bee” on them. It was a little more pricey, but it made the two Chandler’s at his back happy, so Micah supposed it was worth it.

He also got some empty wooden jars there.

“What do you even need it for?” Lisa asked him as he put them away with his other things.

“I want to try making some healing salves,” Micah said.

It was time. And he could always stir the pot with a really long spoon and wear gloves to keep his hands safe.

“Cool,” Lisa said.

Next, Garen dragged them to another shop just a few houses over. At first, Micah assumed they were going for boots. He still needed them and the few stalls they’d tried some at had never had any that fit him. Or those that did always had other faults that ruled them out, like them being too worn, or the wrong sort, or too high. One had a sole that fell off when Garen picked at it.

When Micah saw the tell-tale chairs facing mirrors and glint of scissors in hand, though, he realized they weren’t at a shoe shop at all. They were outside a barber’s.

Lisa turned on them before they could step inside.

“Wait, what are we doing here?” she asked.

Micah wanted to ask the same thing.

“To get him a haircut, of course,” Garen said.

“But I like his hair long,” she insisted.

Uhm, thank you? Micah thought, but he was more worried about whether or not he got a say in this.

“And so do Golems,” Garen said lightly. “It gives them something to pull.”

Lisa scowled and squinted at Micah. Or rather, at his hair.

“Just let me try something first, okay?” she asked.

Suddenly, Lisa was behind him and combing his hair back. Apparently, she was trying to pull it into a bun? Micah couldn’t see her. When he tilted his head back so he could, she pushed him back again.

“Ow,” he mumbled.

By the way she was pulling, it really did feel like a Golem yanking his head back.

“Golems really pull your hair?” Micah asked, a little confused. That seemed somehow … childish to him. And wouldn’t a bun just give them an easy target anyway? Micah thought a helmet was probably best.

“Yeah,” Garen said with a grim look on his face. “And since most of them are made of stone, trying to get free means losing more than just a chunk of hair.”

Oh. Micah gulped.

Not childish then, he corrected himself. Terrifying. He made a mental note never to fight a golem with loose hair.

Behind him, Lisa sighed and gave up. It must not have been quite enough, then. That was … regrettable? Micah wasn’t sure.

“Fine,” she said.

Garen chuckled a little. “What were you expecting? It’s like he was going to want to wear a hair tie.”

I wasn’t?

The barber apparently knew Garen, because they hugged and slapped each other on the back, scissors still in hand, and then gossiped while they led Micah to a chair. It was a much more lively version of the Smalltalk Micah and Garen had shared earlier that day and involved a lot more friendly insults.

He sat down and five minutes later, Micah had a short cut that reminded him of most [Guards] he saw, and the stories they heard about [Soldiers] in the classroom. He hadn’t even had time to grieve before most of it was gone. What would he tell his parents? This was the first time Micah had gone to a barber without them knowing about it.

Lisa had a scowl on her face when they walked back out.

Micah was distracted with running his hand through the stubbles at the back of his head by then. It felt like of weird, but nice. He felt lighter now. He still wasn’t sure if he liked it.

His shirt started itching as they made their way out of the Bazaar. That he definitely did not like.

They picked up some over-sized pretzels with cheese at a stall and meandered for a bit as they ate.

“What next? Boots?” Micah asked, chewing.

“Oh, no. I’ve given up on finding you boots,” Lisa said.

Micah smiled. He guessed that was fair. He’d almost kicked her trying one on, after all. He’d just have to buy some for himself on his own some other day.

“Next is the Alchemist’s Guild, right?” Garen asked.

Only then did Micah realized they were headed into Southstreet, one of the massive streets that led through the city, right up to the Tower’s Guild. The Alchemy Guild was supposed to be only just two streets off from it, he knew.

“Oh,” Micah said and took another bite of his pretzel. Then he wolfed the rest down, swallowed, and yelled, “C’mon, hurry!”

It only took them a few minutes to reach the right street and his excitement was rising. Micah knew he was now a little more than an hour’s walk away from home. He had never made the trip here before. It had always seemed kind of daunting. Plus, he’d had other things to distract himself with. But now that he was here, Micah couldn’t help but feel like he was screaming on the inside.

Finally, the Alchemist’s Guild. What would it be like?

“Hang on there, champ,” Garen said when they saw the building, and tugged him back before he could run off.

It looked rather nondescript actually, made of dark stone about four stories high. Micah wouldn’t have recognized it at first if Lisa and Garen hadn’t been leading him right to it. There was a metal plaque next to the door, though. It was probably a sign. Micah imagined he would have found it on his own … eventually.

“We can’t just run on in,” Garen said. “There are some things we have to discuss first.”

“Huh?” Micah asked. “Like what?”

Lisa had an amused look on her face as slowly, the two of them herded him to a nearby alleyway.

Micah didn’t like where this was going.

“For example,” Garen said. “Your age. How old are you?”

“Thirteen,” Micah said, slowly catching on. There was some kind of an age requirement, right? They wanted him to lie about how old he was.

“Fourteen?” Garen asked, ignoring him. “Fourteen is good.”

Yep, they definitely wanted him to lie about how old he was. Usually, when his parents had wanted him to lie about his age, though, they’d wanted him to say he was younger than he’d been, so he could get into places for free. During festivals and the such. This was the first time Micah was supposed to lie about being older than he was.

“You don’t look like fourteen,” Lisa said.

“Why don’t you put on your new gear?” Garen asked. “It’ll make you look the part.”

“Sure.” Micah sighed.

They stared at him while he got his things out of Lisa’s shopping bag. When he had everything out, though, they kept on staring.

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

Micah stopped and scowled at them.

“What?” Lisa asked.

“Turn around,” he insisted.

“Oh.”

They both chuckled but did as he’d said. This was all just one huge joke to them, wasn’t it?

“When’s your birthday anyway?” Lisa asked.

“In about a month,” Micah said, his voice somewhat muffled because he’d gotten his chin stuck in the collar of his shirt. A bunch of trimmed hairs stuck to it as well, so he shook them off before stuffing it in the bag with his other things.

“So close,” Lisa said.

“Why?” Micah asked. “How old do I have to be?”

“Independent age,” Garen said. “Meaning fourteen.”

So close, he agreed. At least, Micah consoled himself with the knowledge that coming here earlier would have been a waste. But it still felt stupid.

“Why is there even an age restriction in the first place?” he asked.

“Because you’re only really allowed to buy things when you’re fourteen,” Lisa explained. “Otherwise, your parents could show up and void any contracts you make or demand refunds.”

“Oh.” Micah hadn’t known about that. Did that mean there was an age requirement to signing up with the Climber’s Guild, too?

“One more thing,” Garen said while he put on his chainmail.

It still felt weirdly heavy on his body, but he kind of liked it. It made him feel heavier, somehow. Like he was stronger.

“Yeah?”

“What’s your name?” Garen asked.

“Micah Stranya … ” he said slowly, his trust long gone.

“Micah Chandler,” the man corrected him. “You’re a far-off relative who is visiting for the summer and just got your Class. You’re seeking orientation in the city. Let’s say you’re a cousin of Lisa. Another nephew twice-removed of mine?”

“Wait, what?” Micah asked. “Why do I have to be a Chandler?”

“Cool, I have a cousin,” Lisa commented, ignoring him. They both were, but Micah had his pants off by then, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. He hurried to put his new pair on.

“What level are we going to say he is?” Garen asked.

“Hm,” Lisa thought it over. “Two? It shows potential, but not so much that he might register as a threat.”

Garen nodded.

“What about Path? Path or no Path?” Lisa asked.

“No Path,” Garen said. “We’ll say he’s hoping to get it from the books. It’ll make him seem more hopeful. Who could resist a starry-eyed kid? Plus, you said he has puppy-dog eyes.”

“Hey!” Micah said. “Don’t gossip about me.”

Lisa chuckled, but her voice was unhappy when she said, “More hopeful, but also more desperate. It gives them more power.”

“Yeah, but if we say he has the Path, they might think he doesn’t even need the books,” Garen argumented. “It’ll make our trip here seem more like a fancy.”

“Why shouldn’t it be a fancy?” Lisa asked. “They’re doing us a favor. It should be an honor for them.”

“Hrm,” Garen grumbled. “Hard to argue with that.”

“Why do I have to lie about being a Chandler again?” Micah called while he tried to fasten his armguards properly, but then he thought better of it. “More importantly, can we even lie about this?”

Ever since he’d been found out by Linda and then that [Guard] asked him whether or not he had a combat Class, Micah had been a bit weary of lying at all. Not just because he regretted it and knew it was supposed to be bad— Ryan never lied, so he felt like he was somehow less when he did it—but he was also worried people would know.

He didn’t feel safe about it anymore.

“Don’t they have Skills for that?” he asked.

“Probably not,” Garen said. “And even if they do, Lisa has ways of dealing with that.”

Lisa swatted Garen. Clearly, she hadn’t wanted him saying that.

“What?” Garen asked, rubbing his shoulder as if the swat had actually hurt. “You’re friends, aren’t you?”

Micah paused in putting on his second, broad belt.

Are we?

“Yeah, but … “ Lisa said with a scowl. “Ugh, nevermind.”

Micah smiled.

“And the ‘why’ of it?” he asked again.

Garen let out a deep breath.

“The Guilds are very … protective of their influence, kid,” he explained. “Even if you signed up with the Guild now, you wouldn’t be a full member. You’ll only get to be that when you get your license. And before then, the Guild is going to try and get as much money out of you as they can, which means pricier books, heavy fees for browsing their libraries, a fee for even signing up, a ton of different licenses for specialized potions that all cost money; stuff like that.”

Micah stared at Garen’s back with a deep frown. He wanted to ask how they were allowed to do that, but he knew the answer himself. The Guilds controlled licenses. Licenses decided whether or not you were allowed to sell your potions. They had all the cards. Of course, they would abuse them.

“That’s … mean,” he said. He didn’t know any other way of putting it that didn’t involve swear words.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lisa commented, her face blank.

“So we’re going to pretend you’re a Chandler,” Garen said. “And then serving you will be an honor to them and a favor to the Chandler family. Or rather, just me.”

“And that’ll get us a discount?” Micah asked.

“It better,” he said. “Or I’m going to have a word with them.”

If Garen were doing this for himself, Micah might have thought he was being cheap. But since he was doing it for him …

“And what if we get caught?” he asked while he put on his shoes again. “Won’t we, like, get punished for fraud or something?”

They both glanced at him and chuckled. It was creepy how in sync they were just then. Like two twins, one of which was a something-teen-year-old girl and the other a fifty- or sixty-something-year-old man.

“Don’t worry, I’d take the blame,” Garen said. “And since I’m basically an adoptive son of the Heswarens, I have nothing to worry about. And neither do you.”

Heswarens? Anne. Micah had been meaning to ask this for a while now, but—

“Who are the Heswarens again?”

Garen turned on him, looking incredulous.

Micah was suddenly very interested in his shoelaces.

“They’re one of the three families that own this city,” Lisa explained. “Their family’s Path deals a lot with Truth, so they all become judges, or doctors, or other types of officials.”

Micah eyes were wide when he heard that, but his surprise quickly turned to shame that he hadn’t known that before. At least, he’d never heard about them in Westhill, so they couldn’t “own” that.

Right?

“Three?” Garen asked, sounding confused. “How are you counting?”

“Heswarens, Madins, Ballier,” Lisa said.

“Those are just the ones that have influence around the Tower. They don’t ‘own’ the city. What about the Gardeners? What about the Volkov?”

“The Gardeners are owned by the Madins,” Lisa said. “And the Volkov are legless spiders.”

“Are not,” Garen said. “They’re an honorable family. Just because they don’t get involved with the others—”

They kept on squabbling about politics. Micah tuned it out and finished tying his shoes. So what if he didn’t know about this stuff? It wasn’t even important to him, was it?

He did one last check to make sure everything was right before he stepped out of the alley.

Garen and Lisa both had their arms crossed and looked like they weren’t speaking to one another.

“So Anne is … ?” he asked Lisa somewhat hesitantly.

“Rich?” she suggested, dropping her fake scowl. “Very.”

“Oh.” Micah wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. “And the Climber’s school. Is that a school for rich kids, too?”

“No,” Lisa said looking a little amused. “Not at all. They even have a bunch of scholarship spots open, now that they have the support of the Registrars. Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

So it wasn’t a rich school. Then why was Garen sending Anne there?

“At least Anne didn’t fail her hand-to-hand combat class,” Garen said. “She got a perfect 20 on her practice test.”

“‘At least Anne didn’t fail hand-to-hand combat’,” Lisa parroted him and walked away, “‘She got a perfect 20 on her practice test.’”

Garen smiled and gave Micah a quick once-over before nodding and following her up to the Alchemist’s Guild.

On the steps of the building, Micah caught a glance of himself in one of its windows and almost didn’t recognize the boy walking there. He looked … bigger somehow. It was the clothes, he knew. He was wearing two layers of thick clothing. But it was something else, too. Maybe it was the short hair? It reminded him of a [Guard] again … but no.

Then he realized what it was—It was the contrast.

He looked nothing like the savage kid he’d seen in the forest yesterday. That boy had been littered with wounds, and bandages, and dirt. Now, he looked clean. Proper. Ready to step into the Tower if he wanted to.

It was hard to believe he was about to buy books on alchemy. He looked more like he should be getting into a brawl. But that was exactly what Micah wanted to do right now. Whether he was wearing chainmail or not, whether he was rich or poor, noble or just “Micah”, he didn’t care about any of that.

He just wanted to do whatever it was that he wanted to do. In this case, alchemy. In other cases, fighting monsters. In others … He shook his head and straightened his back. Then he pushed on through the doors of the Alchemist’s Guild.

The building looked just as plain on the inside as it did on the outside. There were two low sitting areas in the nearest two corners. In the right, a man sat with half a dozen magazines scattered on the table before him. He looked busy reading. The left area was empty.

There were two doors in the far right and left corners, two stairs bordering on them— one leading up, one down—and a single large reception in the middle made of dark wood. Just as dark as the stone.

Two receptionists worked there. One of them was busy filing books in and out of a bunch of shelves that spanned the distance. For some reason, the books on the frontmost shelves were facing towards them so you could see their cover pages instead of their spines. Micah squinted, trying to make out what they said.

The other receptionist just stood there, looking proper. He smiled at them when they walked up.

“Good day and welcome to the Alchemist’s Guild,” he greeted. “My name is Jaune. How may I help you?”

He even had a name tag.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jaune,” Garen said equally friendly. “My name is Garen Chandler. I’m here with one of my own today, Micah. He just got his [Alchemist] Class a few months ago.”

He slapped Micah on the shoulder then and dragged him a little closer.

The receptionist’s eyes were wide. For some reason, he took a step back and bowed deeply.

“Sir Garen,” he said breathlessly. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Please, how may we serve?”

What? Micah thought, his eyes just as wide as the man’s had been. He glanced at Lisa, but she put a finger to her lips in the universal sign for silence. Did she not want him to ask now or did she not want him to ask at all?

What would Garen tell him if he did?

“Well, my niece’s cousin came to visit us for the summer,” he was lying cheerfully. “And I was hoping we could get some beginner’s guides on alchemy for him. He lives out in the county, you see, and we aren’t exactly known for our [Alchemists], are we? So we’re lacking a bit on education material for him.”

“Hello,” Micah greeted the man then, feeling like it was his turn to speak. He held out his hand, even though Garen hadn’t done it. “My name is Micah. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jaune.”

“Likewise,” he said, briefly shaking his hand.

Well, that had been a poor handshake, Micah thought.

“And you are …?”

“Lisa Chandler,” she said.

The man did a little bow for her, too. Not nearly as extravagant as the one for Garen, but still a bow.

“I’ve heard great things,” he said.

For some reason, Lisa scowled.

Ha, Micah thought. The gossip didn’t like gossip about herself. How fitting.

“So what exactly are you looking for?” he asked Garen.

“I’ll leave that up to him, right?” he said, stepping back.

Micah needed a moment before he realized he was supposed to take a step forward.

“Uhm. Not the basics,” he quickly said. “I already have a Guide on those, on distillation and how to write experiment protocols and the such. I was hoping I could get a beginner’s recipe book? Something with a focus on Tower-climbing?”

The man kept on glancing at Garen while Micah spoke, never offering him his full attention. That seemed kind of rude to Micah, but he guessed meeting Garen must have been a big deal to him. Or something.

“Oh, certainly,” he said when Micah finished and turned back to the bookshelf behind him. “I take it you’ve just started? What level are you?”

“Two,” Micah said.

“And do you have your Path yet? Any specialization?”

“No and no,” he called, even though Lisa had told him to say otherwise. He just didn’t think he could lie about having a Path if the man asked. The word “specialization” alone threw him off.

“I take it you got [Dissettle]? Or is it [Dissolve]?”

The man had his hand over one book and turned back to him.

For some reason, Micah noticed, the names of the authors were much larger than the actual titles on all of the books. Were they some form of recognition?

He spotted one “Janet Mays” and frowned a little. Did he know that name?

Lisa nudged him.

“Huh? Oh, uhm. Actually, I got [Infusion],” he answered. “I was told that it’s the traditional Skill for Tower-centric alchemy?”

The receptionist frowned and headed around the bookshelf.

“Just a second, please,” he said and went to talk with his colleague two bookshelves down. When he came back, Micah caught a glimpse of her heading off, probably to go fetch what they needed.

Jaune had a placating smile.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it the traditional one, young man,” he said, probably wanting to make small-talk. “[Dissolve] was just as—” He glanced at Garen again and paled. “I mean, of course. [Infusion] could be seen as the traditional alchemy Skill. How very knowledgeable of you.”

Micah immediately glanced at Garen, too, but his face looked just as relaxed as always. He smiled down at him.

What the—?

“I was hoping to get the other two Skills soon, too, of course …” Micah said slowly, turning back to the man. “But for now, I was hoping I could get some recipes that work with just [Infusion].”

“Of course,” Jaune said. “I already sent my colleague to get a book with adequate recipes. It’s an older edition, but it shows different recipes for the same potions made with all three Skills. Nowadays, most guides will focus on [Dissettle] first and foremost.”

Micah nodded. He could have guessed that.

“Thank you,” he told the man.

“Now, onto the matter of billing,” Jaune said, pulling out pen and paper.

Once again, Garen took the lead. Micah glanced at Lisa to see what she was doing, but she wasn’t even standing next to them anymore. She was back at the sitting area, bent over the table and reading the man’s magazines there.

He was scowling at her, but she didn’t seem to care or notice.

Micah was more surprised about how quiet she’d been walking away from them. Then he was worried about Lisa not being here when they were lying. Wasn’t she supposed to do something about that?

Garen’s hand settled on Micah head and turned him back to face the counter.

“That’s just the problem, you see,” he said while Micah tried to squirm out of his grip. “His parents insisted on him paying for these books himself. He’s fourteen already, of course, but it wouldn’t make sense for him to sign up with the Guild here, in Watertown, when he lives miles and miles away. He’ll be gone in the Fall already.”

Garen looked at the receptionist with a look Micah hadn’t even seen on his face. He looked kind of … slimy. Like those people who knew they were doing something bad but didn’t seem to care about it. Rather, they seemed to enjoy your frustration.

He was a little surprised Garen could make that kind of face. He had to remind himself that Guilds were supposed to be bad.

“I was hoping you could give him a break, Jaune,” Garen said. “Please? For me?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure, Sir—”

“You would be doing an immense favor to the Chandler family,” Garen interrupted him. “And helping a prospective young [Alchemist] along at the same time.”

“I’d have to talk with my supervisor,” Jaune said, clearly nervous.

“Oh, of course,” Garen said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to speak with me, too. And I’m also sure he would be more than happy to speak with his supervisor about how he spoke with me, too. Jaune.”

Garen stared at the young man behind the counter. He hadn’t been exactly subtle, Micah thought.

The receptionist was sweating and kept on glancing to his left, as if he was looking for his colleague to come back, as if he were looking for help. Or maybe he was worried they would show up again and see what was happening?

Either way, eventually, he broke.

“Of course, sir,” he said with a barely audible sigh. He made another little bow like he had done for Lisa. “I’d be glad to see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Garen said.

“Thank you,” Micah piped from below, and spoke up with a question, “And could I also buy that recipe book by Janet Mays? I’ve heard she’s one of those new cosmeticians everyone’s talking about.”

Now Micah remembered where he knew that name from. It was Mr. Faraday’s assistant, Janet. Apparently, she’d written a book. And it was being sold in the Alchemist’s Guild in Watertown ...

Did Mr. Faraday know about that?

Jaune looked pained when he asked that, but Garen just quirked an eyebrow so he sighed and said, “Of course.”

After leafing through the “Beginning Alchemist’s Recipe Guide to Potions for Climbers, 1st to 5th Floor by Hadrick Hale”, making sure that they didn’t have anything else or maybe anything “better” on hand, and wondering at all the different recipes inside of it (Strength Potion! Micah’s mind screamed), they bought the two books in a bundle for a gold penny, which was half of a gold coin, and left.

The moment the double doors closed behind them, Micah bent over and sighed in relief.

“You’re evil,” he told Garen honestly.

The man shrugged with a smile.

“And also: Thank you. Thank you so, so much,” Micah added and he really meant it. He had a little less than a gold coin and a half left by now. If he hadn’t had Garen along for the bartering, haggling, and just being there today, Micah knew he wouldn’t even have half of that. And if he hadn’t bought that crystal for Lisa, he wouldn’t have any of it.

Instead, he’d just have a stupid oversized Salamander drop.

And now … Micah thought as he peered down into his shopping bag. Now he had a freaking [Infusion] recipe for a strength potion! Working through this book was going to occupy him for some time. He couldn’t wait to get started.

Garen grinned and headed down the steps.

“It’s no problem, Michel,” he said. “I should have done something like this from the start. Plus, it was fun.”

“It was,” Micah agreed.

“So you’re off to the Tower now?” Lisa asked.

“I— Uhm,” Micah faltered. He wasn’t sure, actually. On the one hand, he really itched to leaf through his book on alchemy right now, but he also felt really energetic, like he could slay a hundred rats in one fight. He felt invincible.

In the end, he decided he could read the book all week. He only had the weekends to go into the Tower.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” he said.

“Then I guess that’s bye then,” Lisa said.

“What? Why?” Micah asked. “We have to walk in the same direction, don’t we?”

“I know some shortcuts back home,” Lisa explained. “They go another way.”

“Oh.”

Micah knew some “shortcuts” through Westhill, too, most of which went through private property, so he understood why he and Garen probably couldn’t come along. Still, he didn’t know why Lisa was running off all the sudden.

Maybe she was just as excited to summon something as he was in general?

“See you again on Tuesday?” she asked.

“Oh!” Micah said. “I almost forgot. Actually, I can’t. On Tuesday, I mean. I made a promise to work one last Tuesday this week, as a sort of send-off. Don’t ask. My in-laws are weird.”

“You work?” Lisa asked, sounding a little surprised. “Oh, don’t worry then. If it’s just this Tuesday. Sunday, then. Right?”

“Right.”

“Bye,” Lisa called and waved as she headed down the street.

Micah frowned because he was pretty sure that road led deeper into Watertown. Away from Nistar, not towards it.

“Bye,” he said anyway.

Garen just waved, waiting. Then the two of them headed off towards the Guild. The trip back they spent mostly in silence. Garen seemed tired from the long day and they took the empty roads around the Bazaar rather than walking through it. That was fine by Micah. He definitely didn’t want to get anything stolen right now.

Eventually, it weighed on him though, the silence, and he mulled it over, trying to come up with something to talk about. He was about to ask Garen about why he was famous when the man squinted at the sky and spoke up first.

They were already back in Nistar by then.

“Do you really still want to head into the Tower now?” he asked.

Micah followed his gaze and saw that the sky was getting dimmer. How late was it? They made a short detour into a plaza. The clock there said it was almost six by now. On a normal Sunday of hanging out with friends, Micah might have started heading home by now. There was no way he could still head into the Tower now.

“What about my stuff?” he asked, gesturing at the armor he still wore. Lisa had promised he could keep it at her place, after all. There was also no way he could take this home.

Garen offered to take it with him if Micah wanted to get changed again, but Micah didn’t really feel like getting changed in another alley, not a third time in two days. So he asked if he could do it at the Guild instead.

That way, Garen wouldn’t have to carry it as far either.

When they got there, Garen ducked into a door halfway through the receptions and told Micah to head on without him. He still had to get some things and said he’d be right back.

The massive foyer was surprisingly empty as Micah walked its halls. It was kind of a shame because now he finally felt like he fit in. He’d hoped he might catch the afternoon crowd.

He found Garen’s reception and let himself in, grateful for the privacy as he got changed. Halfway through, he noticed a fresh-looking stack of papers on the man’s desk with a note on top. Stepping closer, it said, “School pamphlets”.

Micah glanced around—there was nobody there—and picked off the note so he could see what was written underneath. It was a bunch of obvious advertising for the school they were planning on opening, listing things like the curriculum and Classes, and an assurance that there would be [Teachers] employed after all, just not in any courses related to the students’ Classes.

Micah glanced back to see if Garen was coming yet and leafed through the rest of the pages. They were numbered, so he took a full set of them and trapped them in the pages of his new book, where they would be safe.

Just as he put his book back in his bag, he noticed Garen in the distance and quickly put the note back where it’d been before pulling his armor off. He’d only had his chainmail shirt left.

For some reason, Garen wasn’t alone when he came back though. There was a man with him who looked a lot like a [Guard]. They both had pretty grim expressions on their faces and neither stepped into the booth, leaving Micah to feel awkward as he stood alone behind it.

“Hey, kiddo,” Garen said. “I’ve got, uhm, some bad news.”

“What?” Micah asked.

“Are you Micah Stranya?” The guard asked. He had what looked like a scroll in his hands.

“Yes?”

“I’ve come to read you an official missive by the Climber’s Guild,” he said. “Are you ready to hear it?”

Micah glanced at Garen, who nodded.

“Uhm, sure?” he said.

The man broke a seal on the scroll—seriously, a seal? Micah wondered—and rolled it out before reading.

It took Micah a moment to catch up to what it was about, but the ending was pretty self-explanatory when you ignored all the names and dates.

“Because of your actions, you have been deemed a threat to yourself and others and unfit to enter the Tower at this time,” the man read. “As such, you are hereby banned from entering the Tower and the premises beyond the Reception of the Climber’s Guild on your own for the duration of six months, or until the first of November. Any attempt at ignoring this decision will extend its duration into permanence.”

Micah was staring at the man by then, frozen. He kept on reading for a bit, listing the names of people who had signed it, but the simple truth was this: He was banned from the Tower. Micah had just spent about a gold coin on equipment and now he was banned.

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

Why?

“Do you have any questions?” the [Guard] asked, rolling the scroll back up.

For some reason, all Micah could think of first was, Seriously, a freaking scroll?

Then he did have questions. For starters, “What the fuck?”

“Micah,” Garen grumbled.

Micah took a step forward.

“I’m banned?” he asked. “Why?”

“For the reasons detailed in the missive,” the man said with a slight frown. “If you need me to read it again—”

“No,” Micah said, pushing a hand through his now-short hair. He couldn’t even grab it anymore. “No, thank you.”

This was just great.

“Kid, calm down,” Garen was saying.

“Calm down?” Micah asked. “Calm down? Didn’t you hear him? I’m banned. How— Why? Was this Linda? Didn’t you say she put in some form? This was her, wasn’t it?”

Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

“It wasn't Linda,” Garen said sternly. “It’s been too long. Someone must have renewed her form.”

“Who?”

“Anyone,” Garen said immediately, and Micah remembered his worries about breaking the Tower. He knew he hadn’t exactly made a lot of people happy. The man shook his head. “Noone. That’s not important. This whole thing isn’t such a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Micah asked.

“It’s a common strike that teachers give their students all the time,” Garen said. “To punish them for mistakes. It’ll only last half a year.”

“I’m not a student. I can’t wait half a year,” Micah shouted. He didn’t have his hair to pull, so he paced.

“You don’t have to,” Garen said, getting louder himself. A part of Micah was worried that he was making the man angry. The larger part of him just didn’t care. Let Garen be angry for once. Not everything could be a freaking joke.

“Didn’t you listen to what the man said? You’ve been banned from going in on your own.”

Yes. Micah knew that. So what?

“Yes, but—“

“Shut up,” Garen said. “Take a breath. Think. What did I just say? What did the man just say?”

What? Micah was breathing. And he’d heard what the man had said. He furrowed his brows as he slowed down.

You’ve been banned from entering the Tower on your own.

He stopped pacing.

On your own.

He blinked and looked at Garen.

“Oh.”

Ryan.