"Do you want them both mailed express?"

"No, just the one going to Hylyu," Damien responded to the man behind the counter he was standing in front of. "The other one can be taken by regular mailing routes."

He was currently in the postal site in Eleram. This place handled all forms of communication. Verbal, written, magical... all of them. It all came and went through here if you wanted it done fast and correctly. In a world where mail wouldn't always get to its intended receiver, they were the most trusted service around.

The room he was in was tall and wide. It housed a large desk on which a gate sat, making it impossible to get to the other side. Students and faculty mailed things ranging from money to small jewelry worth fortunes, so no one except employees were allowed to the other side of the gate.

To his left, Damien saw a few booths meant for long-distance [message] communications. The Mages doing that had hundreds of years of practice and ties throughout the continent. They were paid handsomely each and every time due to the fact that the message would be at its intended receiver in seconds, readable and easy to respond to before the mana wore out. Once done within a certain time frame and response limit, the message would zip back to its host. The service was exorbitant in cost, almost twenty gold for one message, but the most efficient and expedient means of communication hands down.

To his right, Damien saw other personalized booths. These were meant for phone calls, if you could call them that. Similar to the messaging Mages but different in that both parties had to be at or own an already existing booth similar in operation. It was Alteration magic at its finest and had quite the expensive mana stone in it, but conversations were only fifty silver per minute. They were dubbed Instant Messengers. Damien had snorted when he'd been told.

Usually, someone had pre-arranged meetings set up with these booths. They would send a note through the mail detailing a time and date to meet on them, reach out to each other through the booth via their intricate Alteration, and boom — instant messaging. The only problem was you had to supply it with your own mana, know exactly who you wanted to talk to, and it could be extremely expensive depending on how long you wanted to speak.

"That is fine. It'll be a gold piece and ten copper then," the man demanded, taking the letters Damien had offered and stashing him behind the counter.

"A gold?" Damien asked incredulously. "Are you serious? It's just using the teleporter to transfer, why is it so expensive? It only costs twenty silver to transport a person."

"Yes, but it's a price to Hylyu. Costs more to transfer there. They have regulations in place we have to follow," the Elf said back, ignoring Damien's outburst almost entirely. "Do you want them sent or not?"

Damien glared at the man. Most likely, he wasn't ripping him off, but even if he was, there wasn't a way to check. Not without making a scene. Even if he was getting ripped off, though, Damien was confident he could get the money back somehow. He had ties at this point.

"Fine," he ultimately said, begrudgingly holding out his ring to be scanned. "Here. Thank you."

"No problem," the Elf said with a nod and a quick sweep of his scanning tool. "Do you want those put through the standard week-long preparation process, or should we expedite it for a small fee?"

"What! Are y-"

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded out to the right of Damien, causing him to turn his head to look at where the instant messenger booths sat. The sound was created by one of the doors being kicked open violently and interrupted whatever complaint he was about to throw out.

"JUST RECONNECT THE CALL!" he heard a familiar woman's voice shout as a Dresmyr emerged from the pod. "IT DROPPED BECAUSE YOUR BOOTH'S TIMER IS OFF. JUST RECONNECT IT!"

"The Alteration overheated. They are not used to being used for so long. We are sorry," a Dwarf calmy explained. "We already tried to reconnect it via another booth for you but were unable to. The other caller had le-"

"FIND A WAY. RECONNECT THE CALL!" the woman screamed out again.

Damien finally got a good look at her. "What was your... Bellin?" Damien softly murmured to himself.

The dark-skinned, dark-haired, and overall pissed off Dresmyr glared in Damien's direction the moment he'd spoken her name. She continued to glare at him intensely before moving out of the building quickly, vanishing into the throngs of people presently doing their morning shopping.

The worker she'd been screaming at sighed, and the place returned to normal.

"The seven-day process is fine," Damien said after a few more moments of contemplating just what the hell she'd been screaming about, turning back to the Elf who was helping him out.

The man looked down, made a few markings with the ink well pen he was holding, and nodded to Damien.

"Next!"

Damien turned to his right and moved down a special walkway that led him around the line of waiting people, sending him out of the building. He took a few steps outside and lifted his arm to block the sun from blinding his eyes. The position it was at indicated it was just about twenty-two o'clock.

"Well... I have some time to kill," he mused aloud.

Damien looked left, then right, then began wandering aimlessly down the street off to his left.

"Need to find a directory," he mumbled out as he continued walking, following random people about while he tried to get his bearings.

Ranger had led him to the postal service, or the Messengers Hall, but that didn't mean Damien exactly knew his way around the streets.

"Left, or..." he continued mumbling.

"What?" an Elf walking nearby questioned.

"Nothing, sorry," Damien said, smiling and looking at the man. "Just talking to myself. Do you know where I can get raw materials?"

"That's... interesting," the man responded apprehensively, stopping his walk and already looking like he was regretting it. "Head straight down central here and take a left on Lumphyta. The streets are lined with it if you don't see the sign. Market there is open thirty-seven."

Damien nodded and smiled again. "Thanks, man."

"Yep. Good luck with the mental health," the Elf said with a wave, heading in the opposite direction.

Damien smiled awkwardly and continued straight across the road, following the crowd as they crossed. Avoiding getting run over by one of the quicker moving caravans was important, so playing follow the leader was still how he was getting around.

He moved at a leisurely pace while looking at all of the smiling faces around him. The country was small, but stable, and the people were happy. Lemshire being what he was, Damien had been concerned he'd be a little bit of a shit ruler, but the country was so rich, and its citizens paid so well, that it didn't seem to matter. Every one had four day work weeks and were given three off to spend with their families and friends. Working beyond that was up to the individual, but simply operating a food stall, sweeping floors in a barbershop, or working as a public safety officer here paid well enough to live at least the most basic and sustainable life.

The upper class, Mages and Combatants that worked as instructors, brought in more money to the country than they could use, and Lemshire had them donating it to the government to keep things so affordable. Without that, prices would rise, and people would lose things, but with it, the citizens were happy, the country was stable, and jobs were secured.

That wasn't to say that everyone lived a perfectly happy life, of course. Many couldn't handle the level of scrutiny they were placed under. No one had the option of being a thief simply because they'd be found out and removed from Eleram immediately. If someone committed murder, they'd be murdered.

The people here had free will to do whatever the hell they wanted with their lives, but if they did commit a crime for whatever nonsensical reason they did it, the punishment wouldn't be prison. There was no prison. It was execution, ex-communication, or a warning. Reparations would be sent to the aggrieved party and lives would move on.

From what Damien saw, there were no surpluses in the population with regards to jobs either. There was always something someone could be doing due to the fact that immigration was tightly controlled. If you had nothing to offer the country, you weren't allowed to live in it. Everyone contributed, or they left. No exceptions.

He continued walking down the street, loving and hating the idea of living here all at the same time. There was no real chance you could be wrongly accused for something with all of the security measures in place and truth spells to top it off, yet the idea of not truly being able to do whatever you want in your home without making sure it wasn't against "the rules" was distasteful. A constant eye in the sky making sure you didn't mess up... It wasn't that he'd want to commit a crime or go against the regulations, just the fact that everything he did would be known.

The wards Kastra had up around their house were actually illegal, but the fact that Alexa was Diamond, Kastra was a cooperating Fae, and Damien was as unique as he was, they'd never been given trouble over it. The idea of keeping them around to learn from or potentially draw in was more important to them than their rule breaking.

"To each their own," he murmured. "Looks like when the rich don't give a fuck about money, a country can do insanely well."

"What was that?"

"Talking to myself," he replied to the random passerby with a small wave of his hand.

Damien continued walking until he found the street named after the glowing moss found in dungeons. Turning the corner, an open-air market that reminded him of the main street back in Carlon slowly revealed itself. It was about twice as wide as Carlon's and full of patrons. Many different food stalls, weapons stalls, and material stalls dotted both sides of the street as people went about their afternoons, purchasing whatever it was they needed in a rushed manner.

It seemed there wasn't any particular order to the stalls, not separated by food or material, so Damien turned left and began moving down the street.

"About twelve pounds of copper, eight pounds of Iron, and eight pounds of silver..." he muttered, pulling a notepad out from his pocket. "Maybe I should just use... weird, there is no word for aluminum in this world... crap. That would be great for the outer casing... better heat management. Excuse me!" he called, moving towards a shop selling different foodstuffs. "Do you know where I can buy different metals?"

The shopkeeper, a middle-aged Werewolf female, took a look at his note and studied it briefly before smiling and nodding. "You want Greg's shop. Turn around and head across the street. He's an older gentleman, a bit angry, but does a great job every time. Cheapest prices too!"

Damien smiled and thanked the woman before heading where she'd pointed. Ten minutes of walking later, the stall came into view.

He approached and saw no customer present while an older Human male behind the counter stood with a bored look on his face. The man was around the same height as Damien, but was a bit bulkier. He had a scar running along his cheek and a couple on his hands and arms. His left eye had a patch over it.

Instantly, Damien was curious.

"Hey... hey, are you Greg?" he asked, needing to wave to get the man's attention.

The man rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm not. I'm Paul. The name tag just says Greg. Oh wait, you're confused because I somehow ended up with Greg's name tag on, I see," the old man replied. "In fact, why don't you stay put. I'll go look for Greg in the back of this booth. HEY GREG!" he yelled out, holding up a hand and turning around to walk out of the back of his shallow booth that very obviously held no one else in it.

"I get it," Damien said quickly. "Sorry for the dumb question. I need these, if you have them," he stated, holding out his list.

Damien tried to ignore the sarcastic douchery on account of the fact that he really, really wanted the materials and the lady he'd spoken to assured that Greg would have them. If it were happening to another customer, perhaps Damien would have giggled at it anyway.

Greg stopped moving for the back and turned around, eyeing Damien for a moment before heading back for the counter. Once he'd gotten there he impatiently ripped the list out of Damien's hand and scrutinized it.

"Interesting list..." the man said after a few moments of silent deliberation. "What do you need all of this for?"

"It's just a project I'm thinking of tampering with on my own time. I don't have any real aspirations about it, I just wanted to try something out," Damien replied. "Do you have all of that, or?"

"Yeah, I do. The silver is going to cost its weight in coin. So... around two gold? Altogether I'd say three gold twenty silver. I'll need time to gather it as well. As you can see," he said, gesturing around the shop to the small amount of showcased materials present, "this is a front for the actual store."

Damien glanced around and nodded. Iron, Silver, Gold, Diamonds, and many other metals/materials were present, but not in large quantities. It was all just small amounts showcasing what they were.

"So do I just..."

"Good gods, do I have to walk you through... Put in an order. Here, fill this out," he said, shoving a piece of paper towards Damien. "I'll have it to you by tomorrow if you need it fast or the end of the week at the latest. So something like three days."

Damien nodded and looked down at the paper. It had rows detailing the different metals he sold and categories asking how much of each a purchaser wanted. Payment was to be given once the materials were delivered, but the delivery fee was up front.

"Don't tell me I have to write it for you too," Greg asked with an exasperated sigh while reaching for the parchment.

"No," Damien stated, pulling the paper back. "You don't. I've never seen one of these before, I was going through it. Just be patient, it's not like you have any other customers behind me for crying out loud."

"Oh, real observant aren't you?"

"More than you are," Damien retorted with a glare, instantly regretting it as the man's one eye narrowed. "I didn't mean-"

"Clever huh? Because I have one eye. Want to know why my stall is void of people except for obnoxious ones?"

"No, sorry that was a bit crud-" Damien started, awkwardly glancing off to the side.

"Because most people come up, grab a paper, fill it out, and walk off within ten seconds. You, however, are sitting here taking up an entire hour because you want to oogle everything and read each and every word I have written across the place. Do you want tea? Wh- why not scan it? It's a miracle you even had a list prepared. I didn't even kn- know you as a person yet I saw you walking up and thought to myself, 'well great. Looks like I'm going to have to figure out what this guy wants for him.' You know what? Here, since you've already written down where you live, why don't you let me finish the rest of it for you. It'll go by faster, actually be legible, and you won't be wasting space in front of my shop any longer," he finished, leaning over his counter and pulling the paper out of Damien's hands.

Damien had his eyebrows raised and took a step back. "Ok, yep sorry. I'll-"

"Yeah and don't worry about the delivery fee, this one will be on the house. Anything to get you out of here quicker. And here, take a couple of these too," the older man said, holding out a couple of the order forms. "That way you can have it filled out if I ever have to see you again. Goodbye," Greg said, waving his right hand in Damien's direction while turning around, sitting at a desk at the back of the stall and jotting things down on Damien's current order parchment.

Damien took a few confused steps backward and turned around completely, heading for the flow of traffic again. When he'd gotten a block from the shop, he realized he forgot his list and thought to turn around for it. That thought instantly went away, though, and he began just going with the flow of traffic, getting further away from the shop without a real destination in mind.

"A directory," he mumbled eventually, catching one of the rectangular stone statues in the corner of his eye as he got to an intersection.

The 'you are here' dot placed him at the western edge of the town, so he oriented himself inward and moved for the nearest taxi-like service this country offered, about a ten minute walk away. The street was busy but not overly crowded as he traveled down it, a light breeze that carried the salt of the sea in it playing through his hair. It didn't matter how warm the day was, the breeze was always cool and inviting since he'd come to this school. If the ocean were safer, he'd have loved to take a trip down to the beach, but apparently it was riddled with monsters.

Damien continued down the road for around five minutes as he pondered how to ensure a portion of the ocean would be safe for swimming when suddenly a door to his right was thrown open hard, slamming into the exterior of the building as a body was ejected from it. He halted the downward motion of his foot, just about to land on a familiar looking person's hand before him.

"Damien!" Ranger called out, very clearly drunk as he turned onto his back and looked up at him. "Come to join me? We just started!" he said, motioning toward the large gentleman that was exiting the establishment they'd been in. "I could use a hand, no magics the rules," he finished in a loud drunken whisper.

Damien looked up at the bar and let out a laugh as he read the name of the place.

"The Lucky Lad. I'll be inside buddy, finish this and come join me," He said, walking past Ranger as he moved for the door.

This trip was all of a sudden not so miserable.

After all, who didn't have time for one pint, especially when he was going to be taking extra tutelage from Layla on occasion.

"And that's all of it then?" Layla asked.

"Yes," Alexa sighed out. "That's all we both have."

She and Kastra were both panting, exhausted from doing everything they could to please Layla. The Kreel had continued demanding things of them after Damien had shown her all his lightning and air magic. Once they'd finished and started on the girls, Layla had told him to leave because he'd kept interjecting his opinion into how he thought they should train from here on out.

It was a good thing since they needed to mail everything, and he'd been talking about visiting the market for a while for a tinkering project. Kastra just wished she could have gone with him. He'd told her a bit about his plans to make something and... well, it seemed interesting. Extremely interesting.

"Then I'm done too. I'll see you in a couple days," Layla said with a nod, moving for their house.

'More interesting than this,' she lamented.

"I'll escort you out," Adrenna declared, opening the door for Layla as they both disappeared.

"Well that was miserable," Alexa said, slumping to the ground with Kastra on her shoulder.

Kastra agreed. It was horrible. She'd never been run that low on her mana. It felt... wrong. Like her entire body was weakening. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Are you hungry?" Alexa asked, turning to look at Kastra as Emra trotted up and rested her small head in her lovers lap.

"Yeah, but not for food," Kastra said with a shrug. "I need some mana. When will Damien be back?"

"Soon I hope," Alexa responded. "He never gave a time frame for us... I can try to spare some mana for you if you want?"

"If you have any. I don't want to drain you more though," Kastra replied indifferently.

She didn't know why, but she just felt... off. Felt uncomfortable. Like she was a faded background. She needed to remember to never allow herself to get this low on mana again.

The two sat on the ground where they were, Kastra growing to full size and resting in Alexa's crossed legs. She leaned back into Alexa's chest and closed her eyes as trace amounts of mana flowed into her body.

"Is everything ok, Kastra?" Alexa asked after a minute.

Kastra smiled lightly. It was nice to be cared about. It was nice that Alexa noticed when she was acting off. It made her feel important.

"Yes, everything is fine," Kastra assured her.

"It's just... you've been quieter lately. And more reserved. Are you sure everything is ok?" Alexa confirmed.

"I think I'm just tired," Kastra admitted. "I... Well, I'm not as energetic a personality as you and Damien are. It's hard to keep up with him here and so many other people. It was less stringent when it was just us up here. I don't want to disappoint either of you and be boring but... this takes a lot," Kastra said with a sigh, motioning outward with her arms. "You know how much he likes it when I'm expressive."

Alexa nodded at her. "Yeah, but I don't think he'd want you to stress yourself out just acting for him. Why not just explain that this is how you'd prefer to act normally? He won't complain."

"I know he won't, that's why I haven't said anything," Kastra replied. "He wouldn't complain unless I was an obvious, loud, raging bitch all of the time. He's sweet like that. That's why I'm trying to stay this active socially. I just... it's hard," she sighed out. "He rarely tells us what makes him happiest. I was lucky I even picked up on this."

"Yeah, I know," Alexa said, leaning her head down and kissing the top of Kastra's.

Kastra smiled and pushed her body further against Alexa's. The Celestial wrapped her wings around the Fae's body. She was comfortable and warm like this.

"I'll tell him if you don't," Alexa replied. "You can just tone it down a bit anyway; it'll be fine. Try it out and see if he notices?" she asked.

"He'll notice," Kastra said with surety. "He always notices the details."

"That's why we love him," Alexa sighed out.

"That is part of it," Kastra said with a nod. "Definitely part of it. I'll be fine."

"I'm going!"

"Marci, maybe y-" Vanessa started.

"It's Marciela to you! And I do not care what you say, I'm going! Kastra needs me," the Fae yelled out, flitting around the house as Jasper hid underneath a nearby desk.

Garrett sighed.

The letter had shown up a few hours ago and they'd been deciding who was going to attend when Marci had flown into the room and read the note. Unfortunately, she'd demanded she be allowed to go.

"Vanessa would be the one going though, Marci," Emily said with a placating smile. "You two don't really get along; maybe it would be best if you sat this one out. She'll be back shortly after that event anyway."

"I care not for your reasoning, mortal. I am going. That is final!" the Fae declared, darting towards the fox's hiding spot and mounting him. "Jasper, to the bedroom! I must acquire beauty sleep for this event!"

Garrett watched on as the Fae disappeared up the steps in the kitchen with their poor animal's quick movements.

"Why don't we all just go," Vanessa suggested suddenly. "Damien has something to show you, it would be cruel to leave Emily alone, and I'm being requested by name for some reason. It would only be for two days at most anyway," she finished.

"I like it!" Emily said with a wide grin. "Plus it gives us an excuse to go back to Hathen sooner. I love that our house there is larger than it is now. It means Vanessa can stay! It also means we'll have time to christen the house," she finished, wiggling her eyebrows at Garrett.

"Sounds fine then," He said, standing up from where he was leaning on his workbench. "We'll all go. Kramer will be happy that I arrive earlier as well. We can take the teleporters back and forth as well," he finished with a smile.