“There, that’s everyone,” Ivory mumbled as he exited the name-brand department store, and rejoined the main shopping complex. There were multiple birthdays coming up, and Ivory preferred to be well prepared: two Egyptian cotton bath towels, the latest Mario Kart game for the Nintendo Switch, and a prepaid credit card. Spoiled rotten, his friends were!

The place was colossal in size. No matter how many times Ivory visited, he’d manage to find a different exit to leave by; it was always a whimsical experience. As was customary, though, he’d grab a coffee before heading off to the train station.

“Can I get a large flat white, no sugar, thank you.” 

“$4.80, please.”

Ivory tapped his card. “Daylight robbery,” he thought. He’d have a long time to think about it, as well: there were nine or so people in the designated waiting area after he had placed his order; he had time to kill. Ivory double-checked that he had put his card back in his wallet, gave his pocket a congratulatory tap and then pulled his iPhone to fiddle with. Not the latest one - a 6, thank you very much. 

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to get his coffee. Ivory was almost annoyed; he had been burnt too many times by missed trains after coffee orders  that took an eternity. He always allowed for at least 15 minutes for his coffee and planned his train journey accordingly. Now he’d have to wait forever at the train station. “First world problems, I guess…” he mused.

“Yum.” A bit burnt, but whatever. Few places outside his local haunts had amazing coffee; this one was simply good. 

Ivory walked on, sipping cautiously at his coffee, when he noticed the familiar green outlined stick figure above: an exit! A huge, fancy revolving door, at that! However, there was a slight flaw: they were frosted.

“Excellent. I didn’t want to see where I was going, anyway!”

The doors weren’t revolving that fast, but still. What an inconvenience. Ivory took no chances trying to scoot in, opting instead to be sensible and wait for as wide a breadth as possible to step in, lest he bang into the revolving shower windows.

He shuffled along the perimeter of the door, when he realised how big it actually was. After a good 20 seconds, he could faintly make out the outside. Finally. He sidled up to the ‘front’ of the moving door so he could slip out of this foggy hellscape. He only took one step outside, and—

“Aahhh!” Ivory squeaked, as a sudden, intense, sensation struck his entire being. It was comparable to that feeling he’d sometimes get when falling down in a video game: but this wasn’t just an uncomfortableness in the stomach. It was a full on breakdown. He fell to the ground, his gift bag giving him a hard tug as he crashed down to the ground.

It took Ivory a minute to reconfigure himself, so to speak. He didn’t bother trying to get up; he most certainly did not want to risk another fall if that weird vertigo struck him again. Luckily, he did not spell his coffee on himself.

“Phone, wallet, bag. Okay. Crap, my coffee… Whatever, the important stuff’s all fine. I hope no one saw that display!” Ivory, with a nervous chuckle, peered around, expecting, even hoping that someone would share in his embarassment. For better or worse, there was no one in sight.

Whatever. He was in one piece. “Bloody noisy. Those shower windows couldn’t be that soundproof. Is there some kind of march on? Has someone been hit by a car?” Ivory was bamboozled. Yes, the heart of Sydney was loud, but he had taken a pretty ‘off the beaten track’ exit this time…

“Ah well. Off to the sta— wait, my coffee. Can’t be a litterbug...” Ivory hoisted himself up off the ground to find his coffee cup he’d unceremoniously dropped when he experienced his little episode.

There it was, a few steps away from him, upright, against the wall. What on earth were the chances of that?! There was no sign of spillage anywhere. He bent down to pick it up, and he noticed something:

There were no fogged revolving doors. There was not even an entrance back into the Queen Victoria Building. 

“The fuck?” Alarmed, Ivory picked up his coffee cup, forgetting all about its miraculous save, and looked around.

“... Where am I?” Ivory looked up and saw no high-rise shops. There was no curb, no traffic signs, no parking meters, nothing. Was he concussed? Had he begun some kind of lucid dream? He had heard of that happening, where people had realistic and whacko dreams when they were unconscious. But… this felt real.

Ivory felt his stomach drop. No, this wasn’t a repeat of what had just happened to him. This, Ivory knew, was his gut telling him that something was wrong. Strangely, he felt no fear, only confusion. Apprehension. He knew that if he went to investigate what was causing all this exceptionally loud noise, he’d find some answers.

So, he did just that. Coffee in one hand and his bag of gifts in the other, he set off in the direction of the noise. 

It was strange: he felt invigorated as he walked, as if that brief spell before hadn’t even happened. “Damn good coffee,” he thought. “Worth the $4.80 after all”.

It hadn’t taken long until he found the source of the noise. A bustling, energetic marketplace unlike anything he had ever seen. There were no roads, cars, or anything he should have seen. Instead, he gazed upon a marketplace bigger than any he had ever seen. The ‘street’ was easily a kilometer long — that he could make out — with extravagant shops on either side. The ‘noise’, he realised, was simply that: people shopping. Shopkeepers and their assistants hawking their shops’ goods. 

Now, the worry set in. Where was he? He really just needed to ask someone. The first shop on his left was a modest looking tailor’s. He supposed, as the ‘first’ (or was it the last?) shop on the road would attract the least traffic. As he approached the entrance, the glass door automatically opened. It did not ‘retract’ into the wall akin to those you’d find in service stations or convenience stores. No, this glass door was a proper door that opened by itself. Neat. Before he could take two steps inside, he was approached by who Ivory could only assume was an assistant.

“Welcome to Belian’s Cloth Emporium. Can I help you with anything?” the assistant asked, smoothly. Great service!

“Hi there, I was just wondering — I’m a bit lost, could you please tell me where I am?” 

“...Where you are? This is Belian’s Cloth Emporium,” she remarked, clearly taken aback.

“Sorry, yes, thank you. I’m… new here, could you give me some directions to the train station? I am quite lost.”

“A what? Are you a tourist?”

“Yeah, I am.” She didn’t know what a train station was? What?

“Okay. You’re at the end of the Eternal Promenade, in the Eternal Throne of Calanfer. If you tell me which inn you are staying at, I can give you directions there. Lost… tsk.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t remember the name of it. It’s… the closest one to here, though.”

“Dragonrest? I think not. I don’t mean to be rude, but did you perhaps mean The Woolen Pillow? That’s where travellers of more… modest means tend to stay. Is that where you’re staying?”

“Y-yes.”

“I will write some directions”.

As the assistant went around the back room, Ivory was left to his thoughts. “Where the hell am I? “Eternal Throne of Calanfer?” That sounds like something out of a game!” He had to collect himself, as he heard the assistant coming back. Ivory took a huge swig of his coffee.

“Here. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. I didn’t get your name though — I’m Ivory.”

“Ivory. I am Janne, and this is my shop. Come back after you’ve had some rest. I look forward to your patronage.” Janne, seeing that Ivory’s hands were full, slipped the piece of paper in the bag he was carrying, but not before giving it — and him — a quizzical look.

“Of course! Thank you again, Janne! Goodbye!” Ivory gave a weak wave with his bag-hand and exited her shop. He made a beeline back to where he had exited the QVB in order to digest the past 5 minutes, and have a good look over this map he’d been given.

“Thought not,” he muttered, as he sat down against the… wall… he had appeared in front of. He put his bag and coffee down and took out the map Janne had kindly made for him. His first thought was that this certainly was not paper. It wasn’t as… exotic, as papyrus, but it certainly didn’t suit a meagre set of written directions for a random teenager. Parchment? Either way: why not just tell him where to go, instead of writing it down?

Ivory untied the neat string and the ‘paper’ unfurled itself almost mechanically; as he held in, it was as if it had never even been curved at all. He beheld the instructions that would give him the first real sense of where the hell he was, and it read as follows:

"Once you return to the Grand Promenade, continue walking until you see a large floating pillow. That is the The Woolen Pillow."

…

Ivory stared blankly at the gobbledygook that was written — drawn? — on this paper. He blinked, wondering what he was missing. Janne had spoken to him in perfect English - an American accent - what in the hell had she produced?

 Arms flopping to the ground, the map neatly landing beside him, he stared up to the sky. He stayed like this for 5 minutes, as if his brain was trying to contextualise his situation. Unfortunately, it did him little good. He sat up straight and began speaking to no one but himself.

“Alright, recap. I am in a place called ‘The Eternal Throne of Calanfer’, not Sydney. Everyone speaks English, but their written script is… something else. It doesn’t look like any language I’m aware of.” Ivory took a deep breath.

“I had some kind of episode after I left the revolving doors. When I came to, there was no entrance into the shops, or any evidence I was anywhere near there. Am I unconscious? Lucid dreaming…?” Ivory’s worry morphed into confusion. There was no logical conclusion he could come to to explain what was happening. At the very least, the locals seem to be willing to accommodate him in his plight. Even if Janne acted the way she did due to the strangeness of the situation, the fact was that she did help. The place seemed civilised; at the very least, he decided, he was at least safe.

Now he was feeling a bit better. What was the plan of action now, though? He had no idea where this inn was, The Woolen Pillow, and couldn’t even read the directions he was given. The grandly named ‘Eternal Promenade’ was more or less a big straight path, so he figured he should just keep walking and suss out the place before worrying about the inn. He finished the rest of his now cold coffee and put the empty cup in his bag. Fuck the towels; a potential stain on them was the last of his troubles, and he was certainly no litterbug.

The Grand Promenade was simply stunning. The foundations of each shop were of the likes Ivory could not have told you. Stone and metal? Whatever it was, it caught the eye to the extent that, now that Ivory was in the mood to actually take in his surroundings, he was standing in the middle of the causeway gawking from side to side. He noticed, also, that no one was dressed like him. Not that Ivory was dressed outlandishly: he had on a Navy blue t-shirt, black shorts and a pair of sandshoes with white socks on; it was a look that no one back home would look twice at. Here, though, he felt like an amusement in a circus. Not that any of the locals noticed this strange boy; they had their own lives to live. That, to Ivory, was noteworthy in itself.

Enough gawking. Well, no, but enough standing still like a stunned mullet while gawking. It was time to keep moving.

You didn’t have to speak the language — or, in this case, read the language —  to understand what shops were selling. Ivory found it refreshing, frankly, that he understood what most of the shops sold. There were book shops, restaurants, clothing outlets, even a pet shop… it was fascinating. Ivory almost felt a bit silly that he felt like this was an alien place: it was all so very… normal. 

After close to 15 minutes of walking, however, he came across an establishment that made him look twice. The shopfront was rather modest looking, but what was noteworthy was the gigantic television with a horde of children, none probably older than eight or nine, sitting in front of it, enraptured.  The television wasn’t any shape he had ever seen, though: it almost looked like an exquisite Victorian hand mirror, except it was almost easily two metres high! It was time for a rest stop, anyway.

He sat down next to a young girl, probably only seven years old, dressed in a curious outfit; Ivory could tell it was a casual outfit, but he couldn’t deny that it looked like an exceptionally fancy ‘casual’ outfit. He arrived at a good time, it seems, as a new show was just about to start.

“Welcome to The Magical Show, hosted by yours truly, magical instructor Verdane.” 

A… pretty shit name, if Ivory was being honest. What was up with his introduction, as well? It didn’t really make grammatical sense. Was this a cheap infomercial?

“I do hope you are all following along, now. Remember to respect your fellow mages as we begin our lesson!” All the children nodded excitedly, with smiles on their faces.

“Now, you will remember from yesterday, I talked about the light spell; it is one of the most basic spells a mage will learn. Your ‘homework’ from yesterday was to practise channelling your mana with your parents or tutors. You may be able to cast light already—”

Ivory had a sinking feeling. This… seemed too targeted to be some fictional show, and it certainly wasn’t an infomercial. It was like this Verdane was speaking at the children he was sitting with. Magic…?

“—but watch anyway; perhaps you can help your friends. Now, watch closely as I teach you the light spell.”

Ivory almost laughed when he heard that, but stopped as all of the children were looking at the TV intensely; on the edge of their seat, would that they were sitting on one. He followed their lead and looked at the TV, unsure of what exactly he was looking at. Verdane sat, cross legged, with an exquisite looking wand-like thing in his hand. Verdane gave it a wave, and something appeared in front of him. It… just looked like a weird, blurry symbol. Frankly, it made his head hurt just by looking at it. But obviously these kids were into it, so may as well join in, right?

For a minute he stared, and felt like his brain was being scrambled. The fuck was this? Ivory had seen plenty of optical illusions online, and he knew that when he looked at this that his brain was being tricked. Once you knew what you were supposed to be looking at, it became a lot less strange, but interesting nonetheless. This, however, was incomparable. Never before had they actively hurt him; were all these kids experiencing what he was experiencing?

He couldn’t take it any longer, he averted his gaze and wiped at his brow: he was sweating! Before Ivory could even structure a thought, he saw his surroundings brighten ever so slightly. He looked up, careful not to look at the TV, and saw the girl he was sitting next to had something cupped in her little hands.

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“I did it! Yayyyy!” She was clearly ecstatic. Ivory nervously looked down, afraid that his suspicions were going to be proven correct. In her hands, she held…

A small, glowing sphere of light. This was no illusion. This was magic.

Magic.

Ivory completely ignored the man on the television, still projecting that… magic formula? His attention was now firmly centred on the children trying to learn the spell. It wasn’t chaotic, but it was getting there: around half of the children managed to cast the spell; few could keep the little sphere of light active for longer than a few seconds, but that didn’t phase them. The rest of the children were either still staring at the TV, looking dejected or cheering for their friends who had managed the spell.

“Jesus Christ…” he breathed, dumbfounded.

“Mister?” the young girl next to him asked, the one he first noticed had managed to learn the spell. “Aren’t you a bit old to be here?” There was no maliciousness in her voice, only pure puzzlement. This clearly was intended for children.

“I, uh—”

“Don’t be like that, Yenni. This young man’s here on my invitation. Congratulations, as well, young lady!” said the mysterious man who had come to Ivory’s rescue. 

“Oh! Sorry, mister. Thanks Mannus!” Yenni turned around to the boy next to her and they showed each other their new spell.

Ivory’s saviour was a few feet away, leaning casually against the shiny glass pane of the shopfront. Mannus had an unassuming appearance, at least by the standard he had seen from workers in other establishments. He wore a simple red tunic and long white pants. He had short white pixie cut, and at a guess, he looked to be in his late 50ss. Now that he thought about it, he looked quite eccentric. Ivory got up and walked over to him.

“Er… thank you. Is this your shop?” asked Ivory, confident that he was correct.

“Yes, it is. I saw you watching my scrying mirror. Trying to learn a little magic, eh?” 

“I— sorry,” Ivory stammered. “I didn’t expect to see such a big television, and was just curious to see what was on.” Smooth.“Ah, yes. ‘Television’. That’s what Wistram is calling it. It’s all the rage, and I recently had the opportunity to employ Verdane. Are you from around here?”

Crap. Wait, why was Ivory feeling nervous at being asked that question?

“No, I made a day trip from my little town. To sight-see.”

Mannus nodded sagely. Had Ivory actually deceived him?

“A smart decision, choosing The Eternal Throne as your first big city to visit. Am I correct in thinking that you have not ventured out of your hometown before now?

“Yes, that’s right!” Too eager to agree, Ivory! “Yes. I thought I would do some sight seeing, and I got distracted by your… sorry, what did you call it?”

“A scrying mirror. Please excuse my prying, but I never caught your name. I am Mannus Lan, and I own The Esoterica. As you may have guessed, I sell all kinds of magical goods and services, although the Mage’s Guild might be your best bet for the latter. What is your name?”

Holy crap. “Ivory Henderson. Pleasure to meet you!”

“Yes, indeed. Come inside, won’t you? The children will be there another while yet and I’ve got no appointments for about an hour.” Mannus invited Ivory inside The Esoterica. Ivory walked inside, expecting to see floating orbs, spellbooks, faeries, or anything else distinctly magical… but he saw nothing of the sort. As he walked in, it was clear that this was the store’s reception area. Mannus walked to the back corner and sat at a desk, and beckoned Ivory to sit down opposite him.

“Right,” Ivory thought. “This guy’s got a giant TV showing a magic lesson, of course there’s a waiting room.” Ivory took a seat.

“So, I take it you have an interest in magic, Ivory?”

“Uhm, yes, I suppose? My village doesn’t have any magic or mages, so seeing that program on the scrying mirror was quite a shock.”

“I see, I see. What is your class, young man?” A pause.

“Sorry? I would say I am middle-class… why?” What an odd thing to ask! Mannus only laughed.

“No, no. Your class. Would you permit me to cast appraisal?”

“Umm, I’m not sure what that does…” Ivory could probably guess what it did, but his only frame of reference were RPGs he had played.

“It is a spell that will tell me your class, skills and spells, if any, that you have. It is an intrusive spell that I seldom cast on anyone without their explicit consent. May I?”

Ivory nodded; he was not sure what that spell would even show. This… clearly wasn’t Earth, and magical abilities actually exist here.

“Appraisal.” Mannus candidly said the spell, and more confusing looking characters appeared in front of Ivory’s head. Mannus, again, just laughed.

“Well, young man, this certainly is an oddity. You have neither a class or skills. How old are you?” Ivory knew this was an unmissable opportunity to learn more about not only magic, but also this new land.

“I’m 19.”

“I see. Most tend to gain a class and level around the age of 14, however that does not mean you can’t learn magic, for example. Those children outside are born of mages, all with inherent magical abilities. None, however, have the mage class, or any class at all yet.” Ivory nodded slowly.

“Let’s take a step back. Do you know what a class is?”

Ivory needed to make an important snap decision here. He had a good idea what a class was, as it was a pretty common concept in fantasy. A lie detection spell obviously existed if an appraisal spell did, so telling the truth was probably a good idea. Oh fuck, he definitely knew he wasn’t from some backwards village!

“... I could guess, but no, not really.”

Ivory couldn’t read the look that Mannus was giving him. He didn’t look taken aback or surprised, but then he nodded and a book appeared on the table with a pop.

“Your village must not have had a copy of The Book of Levels. A class is a representation of a job, hobby or any kind of endeavour that defines who you are. Take, for example, a farmer. Anyone can pull a plough, plant seeds and harvest them. That does not make them a farmer, but they certainly are farming. There is a difference between a farmer and a [Farmer].”

As Mannus said that final word, Ivory got goosebumps. Mannus noticed.

“Yes, you seem to understand. There is a difference. The children outside are practising their magic, but are not yet [Mages].”

“How do you get a class?” Ivory asked, shivering with anticipation.

“A Class. This is actually kind of hard to explain. People usually get Classes when they are devoted to a particular venture, be it a hobby or an occupation. Per my previous example, just doing some farming won’t get you the [Farmer] class; generally these kinds of activities require you to want the Class.”

It was that easy…? Almost reading Ivory’s thoughts, Mannus continued.

“You can’t just wish for a Class and get it, though. You won’t become a [Blacksmith] or a [Builder] through wishful thinking.”

Mannus pointed to the book that he summoned to the table.

“This is The Book of Levels. It is taught to all children,” He paused. “Well, most. I’ll read an excerpt: ‘All those that Think—Feel. From Feeling do we Act. It is in Action that we Level. All those who Think have a Class. And it is in that Class which we find destiny.’” Mannus closed the book.

“Interpret that how you want to. When you get a Class, you will level up in it by fulfilling the spirit of the class. A [Farmer] will level by planting and selling crops; a [Shopkeeper] like myself will level by selling items. I am generalising here, but you get the point.”

Ivory nodded, hungrily.

“You said you had an interest in magic. Are you interested in becoming a [Mage]?

“Yes!”

“Alright then. [Test Aptitude: Magic].”

Ivory expected something grand to happen, but, as before, Mannus just sagely nodded his head.

“A very useful Skill. As I own a shop specialising in magical items, I am afforded many useful Skills pertaining to magic. You have a below average innate mana pool — no, don’t look dejected. The greatest of mages earn Skills to supplement their personal stores of mana. But enough of that; I don’t own a magic shop for nothing. Hold on.”

Ivory didn’t see where Mannus went, but it was a fair assumption that he was heading into the ‘heart’ of the shop for something. It was the least of his concerns: he could become a [Mage]. Awesome! He hoped that it wasn’t going to be as difficult as learning that spell from the TV…

“Found it. Alright,” Mannus said, and handed Ivory a metal rod. “This is a magical catalyst. Beginning mages learn to get used to their control over mana by channelling mana through it. Since you don’t know how to do that, I will supply my own mana. I am no [Teacher], but all you need to do is to… think about some kind of magic. Your frame of reference will be limited, so think of the [Light] spell you saw the children outside cast. This will be difficult, but try your best to imagine the shape and brightness and hope for the best.”

Ivory grasped the metal rod with both hands and just… stared at it. What the hell was he even meant to do? Think about magic and hope for the best?! Well, may as well give it a go. The question was: what kind of magic to envision? That’s where Mannus was wrong: Ivory’s frame of reference for magic was extensive. Most fantasy television shows, movies and books gave grand, detailed explanations for their systems of magic. Granted, these explanations would not serve him very well, but it did give him an idea of what basic magic he could envisage.

Think. Fire requires oxygen, heat and fuel… Rub metal against some flint onto some twigs… sparks… combustion?... hot… reactions… science… God, I don’t know I don’tknowIdon’tknow…

For 5, 10, and then 15 minutes was Ivory staring at the metal rod, concentrating hard by thinking of the creation of fire. Ivory was sweating as he strained his body. By all means, it should have worked by now, and Mannus was going to give him another five minutes before he told him he should consider another Class.

At this point, Ivory abandoned all ‘logical’ processes, and just imagined pure fire: matches, stovetops, flamethrowers, burning buildings, literally anything to do with fire. Just as Mannus was about to stop supplying the rod with his mana, he heard a sound.

Ptschk

Ivory felt a foreign sensation throughout his body and opened his eyes: at the end of the black rod was a small flame, not dissimilar in size to the flame of common matchstick. 

“Holy shit. I did it!” Ivory cheered, truly elated that he had cast magic. There was time later to remember that it was not his power that he was using, but the fact remained: Ivory, not Mannus, had caused the fire to appear.

“Well done, young man. I was expecting nothing to happen; it is rare for someone with not only low stores of innate mana, no [Mage] class and no formal training to cast magic. Paltry that it was, but magic nonetheless. Now, much that I’ve enjoyed fostering the development of a young [Mage], I have an appointment very soon. Are you staying at The Woolen Pillow?”

“I was planning to — do you happen to know how much boarding is per night?” Ivory figured that this inn didn’t take card…

“You needn’t worry. The [Innkeeper], Rex, is a childhood friend. Tell him I sent you and he’ll take care of you.”

It was an unceremonious parting: he had more or less taught Ivory some magic and paid off his hotel stay — oops, inn stay — and he could scarcely utter more than a word of thanks before they parted ways.

“Come back tomorrow at noon. Verdane the [Magical Instructor] will be on my scrying mirror then.”

“Definitely, I will. One more thing: could you point me in the direction of The Woolen Pillow?”

Mannus raised an eyebrow and pointed across the street to a giant, fluffy pillow floating around the building opposite The Esoterica.

“It’s an artefact I had commissioned for Rex, at his request. Remember: tell him I sent you. See you tomorrow!”

And just like that, Ivory was back where he started. Well, not really, but the past hour felt like an eternity. Ivory had experienced a whirlwind of change since going shopping for presents in the city: now wasn’t the time for reflection, that could wait until he checked himself into the inn.

Ivory looked to his right and saw the same horde of children watching the scrying mirror. He didn’t catch what Verdane was saying, but the kids weren’t paying that much attention. They were too focussed on casting [Light] with each other; the remaining half had managed to complete the spell in the time Ivory spent with Mannus.

He walked across the road (was it really a road? Pathway?) to The Woolen Pillow and opened the door, which opened with a pingaling.

He stepped inside and instantly felt at home. Ivory couldn’t explain the feeling: he’d obviously never set foot in here before. He compared it to that feeling of returning home after a long holiday: the smell, the sense of safety and, well, homeliness. He paid little attention to his surroundings, instead heading straight to the giant of a man counting coins on a counter that he assumed was Rex.

Before he could, however, he was approached by a young man, probably a couple of years younger than himself.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to The Woolen Pillow. What can we do for you today?” he asked, chirpily. 

“Hi there. I was wondering if I could speak to Rex? I have been referred to here by Mannus from The Esoterica?”

“Oh! One moment, I’ll get him. DAD!” the young man belted out. What a voice on him!

Rex recoiled slightly, sighed and came over to his son.

“Jeth… I’m right over here! No need to keep using your new Skill. You wanted to speak to me, young man? I’m Rex, owner of this here inn.” 

“I’m Ivory, nice to meet you.  I’ve just been across the road in The Esoterica, and Mannus told me… well, to name drop him to pay for a room.”

Rex instantly rolled his eyes in disapproval, probably at Mannus. Hopefully!

“Dead gods, that man! I owe him a favour, but the least he could do was tell me to expect someone. Ivory, ignore my ramblings and please accept my apologies for my son, he started working here just yesterday. If you wouldn’t mind, Jeth can give you a run down of what we offer while I go and see to Mannus?” Rex gave Jeth a strong look and before he could respond, he set off out the door.

“Of course! Hi again, sorry for shouting. I levelled and got [Loud Voice] last night! I was so excited; hopefully I’ll be able to level faster while working front of house. Cleaning gave me pretty boring Skills! Anyway. We do all day breakfast and lunch will be starting soon, dinner’s at sundown. Will you be staying the night?

That was a lot of information to process in a short small period of time. It was, however, another piece of the Class puzzle. You levelled faster doing… more important things?

“I’m not actually sure. I need to see what Mannus said when Rex gets back.”

“Ok! Have a seat anywhere you like while you wait for dad.” Jeth walked off, a spring in his step. Ivory may well have been the first patron he had served.

Ivory surveyed his surroundings. The inn was quite spacious; there were 20-odd tables organised in a similar fashion to a classroom. Ivory could see a little bit of the kitchen at the back; there were a few people coming in and out of view who he assumed were… [Chefs]? [Cooks]? Seeing how the inn was pretty much empty, Ivory surmised that the inn’s rush hour for dining was coming soon. In the back corner was a staircase, presumably leading to where the inn’s bedrooms were. 

Pingaling. Ivory turned around to see Rex enter the inn, and got up to meet him.

“Ivory. I caught Mannus in the nick of time. You made quite the impression on him: he’s called in his favour I owe him. You can stay here as long as you’re in town.”

Ivory blinked. He expected Mannus to pay for a night or two in the inn. But this…

“Sorry to be abrupt, but I’ve got to head to the back to help prep. We rarely receive guests at this time of the day! Jeth, could you show Ivory to his room?”

“Sure! Follow me, please!”

This was becoming a theme: Ivory hadn’t the chance to even thank anyone, again! Nevertheless, Ivory followed Jeth up the stairs. He was greeted by a long corridor of exquisite marbled wood: floorboards, ceiling and walls all. There were five rooms, each made of the same marbled wood, adorned with a different animal: he noticed a small fluffy lamb on one, a gryphon on another; the other three he couldn’t identify at a glance.

Jeth led him around the corner to another, longer corridor with five rooms on each side. The surfaces were identical to the previous corridor, however the doors weren’t adorned with any animals. Perhaps those first 5 were VIP suites?

“Here we go, this is your room—” Jeth inserted and twisted a mighty green key into the locking mechanism and opened the door, “—and here is your key.” Ivory noted that it would be a very difficult key to lose indeed. Jeth took a deep breath and steadied himself.

“There’s a pamphlet on the bedside table, which you should read as soon as you unpack your things and get comfortable. It contains everything you need to know about staying in The Woolen Pillow. Thank you for choosing to stay with us, and we hope you enjoy your stay.” Jeth tried his best to keep a passive but friendly appearance, but Ivory could tell he was pleased with himself for getting the little speech right. Doing his best to ignore the knot that just formed in his stomach at the thought of something important that he could not read, Ivory grinned and gave Jeth a soft round of applause; Jeth comically wiped at his brow.

“Thanks, Jeth. See you later.” Jeth waved and went back downstairs.

Ivory sat onto the bed with a whompf. He put his bag down in front of his bedside table. Frankly, he wasn’t concerned in the slightest about the pamphlet for the time being. He needed to decompress and reflect on the day so far. He clearly wasn’t on Earth; something had happened to him. Teleported to another world? A wormhole? Temporal portal? Nothing was off the table, including the fact that this was all just in his head, and that he had actually hit his head after he had finished his shopping!

Ivory eyed the pamphlet beside him and exhaled. “A problem for later. Time for a quick lie down.” He was, after all, exhausted. That piece of magic he performed drained the little bit of energy he had left right out of him. “Comfy…”

Maybe [Innkeepers] got Skills that made beds really comfortable? Or maybe even helped you get to sleep better? 

On cue, Ivory passed out. That coffee couldn’t save him from this kind of exhaustion.

[Sorcerer Class obtained!]

[Sorcerer Level 1!]

[Skill - Basic Mana Control Obtained!]

[Skill - Basic Literacy Obtained!]

… He’d lucked out.