As he was leaving, the birdkin turned to whisper about his stats to the others nearby. This became a low murmur among the workers. The people watched him as he left the lobby all abuzz with his mere presence. He walked with his shoulders a little higher.

  A hand grabbed him by the shoulder as he passed down the hall., He turned to see Hester: Lady Bauder’s servant.

  “Boy, never speak to the lady again, are we clear? She is too good for the likes of you.”

  Jein shrugged the man’s arm off of his shoulder and met his glare with one of his own.

  “She spoke to me first.” Jein said.

  The man’s hand turned to a blur, and a cold edge was placed upon his neck. There was a bite, and a bit of trickle of warmth flowing from the middle of his throat, trickling down to the crest of his collarbone. Beads of cold sweat rolled down the boy’s temples, and it felt as if he had never had water in his life, so dry was his throat in that moment.

  “Let me make this clear: if you vanish? No one in the world will know. And I’m very good at making people vanish. Are we clear?”

  Jein swallowed the pea in his throat, and nodded.

  “Good.”

  The pressure was gone, and he could breathe again.

  “Now leave before the lady returns. Understood?”

  Jein nodded again, and glanced to the people around him. All of their eyes seemed so hateful in that moment. He hurried down the halls, and retraced the steps that Gil had taken him until he reached the exit. Gil was busy at work: pulling coins from behind the desk and handing them to adventurers who were returning with finished quests.

  “I guess you really were old enough, nyah!”

  “I told you I was.” Jein said defiantly. “I’m not a liar.”

  “Do you already have your first job picked out?” Gil asked as he handed a pouch full of clinking coins over to a dwarf who had a bloodied sack laid out on the counter.

  “No, I can’t leave the city yet.” Jein said. “How do I pick a quest.”

  “If you summon your Slate, there will be a new World Window you can access. It is connected with the Crystal here, and will display threats that you’re most suited to. Try it out.”

  “Slate.” He said out loud.

  The Window of the World opened up before him.

  “Now say, ‘Jobs.’”

  Jein repeated after him.

  His table vanished and it was replaced by a new one:

  Jein read both of those out loud.

  “How do you accept them or not?”

  “You will have to say, ‘accept,’ your Slate is a manifestation of The God’s Will, and it will understand which one you intend to accept.”

  Jein would store that away later.

  “What Job are you going to do?” Jein asked Baset.

  “Oh!” The Me and my group: Fang and Claw, are going to be going after some Goblins that had been spotted near Deredin to the north.”

  “Goblins?”

  Goblins were the main force of the Demon King’s armies. If they were near then…

  “Oh no, don’t worry! These are supposed to be deserters from the Demon King’s forces!” Baset said.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be heading out shortly?” Gil said, as he slid another bag of gold to a halfling at the counter.

  “Nyah...bye Jein! Stay safe!”

  “You too!”

  Jein watched as she slipped through the crowd so effortlessly. Her tail flickering out from beneath her red-cloak.

  “Ah, so that’s your type…”

  A familiar voice whispered in his ear. He felt his heart jump in his chest and turned to see Gilium standing over him.

  “Can’t say I blame you…”

  Jein felt his cheeks burn momentarily before Gilium began again.

  “We have to head back now.” He said. “To have you back by noon.”

  Jein huffed.

  “Now, now, within a month you’ll be on your way to the capital, and you’ll have plenty of time to chase tail there.”

  He felt his ears burn again.

  “Let’s go…” Jein muttered.

  “Heh, heh heh..”

  Gilium led the way out, pushing the door onto the street.

  “So what was her name?”

  “Baset,” Jein answered.

  “Ah...the paramour has a name. I think she’s too old for you, personally.”

  “Stop it…”

  They pushed through the crowd. Gilium glanced back at the boy every so often and grabbed his neck. There, he would utter something that Jein couldn’t make out.

  “Are we not going in?”

  “Nope…”

  “Why not?’

  Gillium navigated through the city towards the outskirts of the city. Jein glanced around and saw Lieth, and the others following them from a distance. One along the roofs of the building, another a little ahead of them, and another behind them.

  “Where are we going?”

  The crowds thinned, and Jein became aware of another group of people following after them. They stopped when they stopped, and turned when they turned. Were they another group of people from the temple? Jein looked up at Gilium’s face. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were narrowed as he glanced around at every person who passed by.

  “We’re going to cut through the alley here…”

  Gillium motioned with his head to a nearby alley between two workshops near the edge of the city, where the walls that held the slums in sat. The tink-tinkering of a hammer against an anvil raised out of one, and the soft murmur of people on the clinking of glass vials together in the other. They couldn’t be further from the Divine Hill. Gilium grabbed hold of Jein’s shoulder and led him in through the mouth of the alley. The alley terminated at the walls of the city.

  Leith and the others followed: two on the roofs. One stayed on the roofs and drew a wand from his belt, and the other slid down to join Gillium and Leithe on the ground level. Gillum shifted his body so that it covered Jein, as he backed further and further into the alley, until Jein’s back was pressed against the stone of the wall, and Gillium was standing in front of him.

  Five men walked into the alley after them. Each wearing a hooded cloak drawn over their faces, and each armed in various ways. One with a dagger strapped to his thigh, the other with a sword dangling on his belt. Still another was carrying a quarter staff, and another with a spear that he tapped against the ground as if it were a walking stick. The one in front wore a deep violet cloak and walked with an arrogant stride. Gillium stepped backward again, forcing Jein further into the wall. The stench of the slums, radiating out from the trenches beyond, and the sod that held the thatch upon the roofs in place filled his nostrils. The rough stone scraped against his back, as Gillium, too, drew his sword.

  “There he is….” The man in front spoke in a hissing affectation, as if he were a serpent.