Having lots of money had never been a goal of mine. I was fortunate not to grow up in need and it just never seemed to matter that much, as long as I had enough. Money doesn’t make you happy. It does help a lot though.

I had a decent, regular income now. I could leverage it. And I needed a new book. Understanding the Aether, a treatise, was way too advanced for me. I lacked the basics. Most of my level-ups had been due to constant practical training instead of a better comprehension of what I was doing. I could get a good feel for it and I started to recognize the Aether features of some places I visited often, like Sirmy’s stall, but I felt a mental block hindering my progress. The Aether was still too much of a mystery to me. I had to look for another manual.

Luckily, I was living with an actual Collector of Books, whose whole career revolved around finding and acquiring books. She immediately went on the hunt like a hound tracking its prey. She wrote about twenty letters, though I was pretty sure there weren’t that many bookshops in the entire city. I brought them myself to Ana at the Messenger’s Guild. Her face scrunched-up.

“I appreciate the business, Luc, but if you want those done today, I’ll have to share.”

“That’s fine. Just take what you can do yourself,” I told her. “How are you anyway? Have you had time to think about my proposal?”

“I have, yeah. There might be an opportunity soon, and with the money you just gave me, I might pass by the shop soon.”

“Great! I’m trying to find a new place actually. Tork’s cart is too big and I’ll have to at some point if I want to expand, so I figure I may as well look now. But I’ll warn you guys once it’s done.”

“You do that. I’ll make sure your letters are delivered quickly.”

I went to the harbour afterwards. Louprak was my best bet for finding a place of my own. As a Trade Master, he was sure to know a lot of people. I also had an idea that may prove extremely profitable. I has to run it by him first, there were too many unknowns for me. But if I was right, it would both solve any money trouble I had and fill my time for the foreseeable future. It could be a good way to level-up too.

Unfortunately, the dock master I asked told me Siren’s flight wasn’t moored at the moment. They expected her back in a week or two. Just as well. It would give me time to refine my project.

I had never seen Inrak on a book hunt before. Ever since coming here, I had been too focused on my studies, too self-centred to worry about the parts of her job that did not involve bookkeeping. Now that I paid attention, it was kind of scary. She reminded me of my gamer sister, cackling as she threatened her AI Civilization opponents of all the things she would do to their cities. I did not play against her myself. She had cured me of that folly a long time ago.

Inrak was similar in that she actually talked while reading what her correspondents had sent back and then while writing her replies. I hoped her tone was much nicer on paper because I didn’t think anybody hearing that would agree to any kind of deal with her.

After so many weeks cooped up inside, I found myself going out on walks more often. I wandered through the streets, hands in my pockets and my head in the clouds. I breathed in every scent amidst the crispy cold of nascent winter. I followed no particular path. Sturron was a safe city. Its Guard patrolled often, in their navy blue uniforms. They had batons and levels and their arrival on the scene of a growing quarrel was often enough to cool tempers down. I avoided only the God’s district and the Castle grounds. I was not ready for the first, and much too prudent for the second.

While mainly a Schalass city, Sturron’s harbour and its significance as a trading hub had made it a true melting pot. Pterars and Humans were second in terms of numbers. Lompres next – that river otters-like species. They mostly stayed in their own parts of the city so I had little contact with them. Pixes came fifth I believed. They weren’t always easy to spot however, so I may have been wrong there. There were some Goblins, scattered around the city, like the shopkeeper I had met my first day here. Bouroks were the least numerous. They made it up by being impossible to miss, rolling around like ambulance drivers on a mission.

I met a few of them. Tork’s kin, or perhaps his friends, he had not been specific. We needed space for me to enchant his cart while I waited for Louprak to come back. They happily provided, eager to watch for themselves and consider the possibilities.

Inrak came through a few days later. She beamed with pride. I was entering the shop when she brandished a letter in front of my face.

“I found it!” she said, cackling.

“The book?” I asked, taking the paper. “What is it?”

“It’s perfect! Exactly what you need! A thesis by a young Goblin Mage at Winory, supposed to be a genius.”

“What’s the thesis about?”

“Read the letter! It has all the details.”

I began to do just that. I was barely three sentences in, in the middle of a series of honorifics, when she interrupted me.

“So? What do you think?” Her talons were frenetically bumping each other, producing little clicks.

“I’m still at the part where they say how great you are.”

“Hmm... Well he is very polite. Carry on.”

The writer described the thesis he had bought not long ago, after a trip to the University. He had been very impressed with this Goblin. She was apparently greatly thought of, with innovative ideas on old concepts. This study was her second since she had graduated. In it, she explored each of the specific properties of the Aether, how it caused Aether magic to be so different from other types of magic and what it could teach us about the way the world worked. The thesis sounded like a speculative thought exercise based up an exhaustive description of what exactly was the Aether and what had been observed about it. The letter’s writer boasted that it had granted him such a new perspective about the world that he had gained a level in his Philosopher Class.

“Inrak, this is perfect.” I was dumbstruck.

“Yes!” she yelled and clapped. “Do you see? It’s both about the basics of your magic and its effect on the world! You could maybe learn things about how to go home!”

“How did you even find this? It seems too good to be true.”

“Ah! I am a Collector of Books. An excellent one! Did you not read all the things he said about me?”

“Yeah, that was a bit weird. Is it a thing here to begin every letter like that? Not that everything wasn’t true, of course.” I teased. She tapped me lightly on the arm.

“It’s not usually as… gushing. He probably wants to be in my good graces in case he ever needs a book. For the kind of Classes he has, sometimes the perfect book at the perfect time can be a tremendous leveling help.”

That was new information. I had never asked her why people paid so much for her books that most of them were priced in Kiestan coins. I had just assumed it was a scarcity thing. I had not heard of a printing press after all, though Skills probably existed to help Scribes copy faster. So, once again, she had given me far more than I understood.

“Thank you, Inrak.” I said. “I feel like every time I think I am starting to repay you, you do me a huge favour and I am back to square one.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, blushing a little. “You’ll still have to go get it and pay for it though.”

“Of course! How much is it? I should have enough with all the work I’ve been doing lately.”

“2 Kiestan silver.”

I winced. That was most of what I had put aside.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “It’s kind of new. I couldn’t barter much.”

“It’s fine. I’ll make it back, and this will help a lot. I don’t have Kiestan coins though, I’ve always traded in Sturron ones. Where can I change it? Kiest’s temple?”

“Ah! She wishes. The rest of the Gods already let Her get away with her acolyte minting their own currency, so they are all forbidden some Classes like Banker and so on. Rumour has it, Usurers have even lost their Class after just discussing some affairs with Kiestan priests. No, you’ll need to find an Exchanger or something of the sort. Probably at the harbour.”

“Wait, you can lose your Class?” I asked.

That was a scary thought. I had worked so hard and it could all be erased just like that?

“Hmm… Well more often than not, Classes can get removed when multiple ones combine together so you don’t lose the Skills you possess. But yes, actually losing a Class and its Skills has been known to happen. It’s extremely rare though. It has to involve great, world-ruining matters. I have a book on it, I’ll lend it to you if you want.”

“Absolutely. I need to know every subject I have to avoid.”

As it turned out, money changing was most often done in the Bourse of Sturron, just two buildings down from the Harbourmaster’s office. Entering, I found myself in a grand hall full of people loudly talking and haggling. It reminded me of those pictures of traders in suits that illustrated news articles about a stock market crash.

There was a sign with multiple coins in one corner so I made my way through the room. I heard scraps of conversation, mentions of loans, companies and partnerships, maritime ventures. I had not realized the business side of this world was so advanced. My prejudices showed though it made little sense. I was aware that Italian and Dutch merchants had already developed complex trading practices as early as the 13th century. I had been so engrossed in my studies that I had missed a lot. I resolved to come back to the Bourse later. I would need to learn as much as I could to have the most chances of success in my plans.

The exchange fee was a two bronze coins. Not a high percentage, but I was probably standing in the most competitive place for it in the city. A dozen Exchangers were holding a stand in this corner of the hall and rivalled with each other.

Inrak’s contact lived near the castle. From what I understood, he worked there as a sort of counsel to the Duchess. His name was Harras Toular and, like most of the ruling elite of Sturron, he was a Schalass. I met him at his home. A Human servant opened the door when I knocked and ushered me into an antechamber where she told me to wait for the Master. It seemed obvious to me that this room was meant to impress Toular’s visitor. A beautiful red and gold rug took most of the floor while two nature paintings adorned the walls. An elegant leather divan and a low-slung coffee table occupied the middle of the room. It creaked when I sat on it. I expected to wait long enough that I would have all the time necessary to admire the taste of the person who owned this room and consider my own lack of importance in regards to him, but not too long that I would feel insulted. This Philosopher probably had Skills to measure that exact timing for each of his guests. It turned out that it was a little less than an hour for me. I had gotten quite decent at estimating the time based on the sun’s movement. While I used some of this time to sense the Aether in this room, I did not wish to have a headache when I met Toular, so watching by the window had been my main occupation. I had a clear view of the castle’s entrance. I was surprised by the flurry of activity that went through it. Carts, wagons, people of all species constantly walked by the two armoured Guards, only rarely being stopped and questioned. I did not know much about the social hierarchy in Sturron. It did not seem important at first, and I had gotten busy with more practical stuff. But the looming succession conflict meant I would probably have to acquire more information. Especially if Louprak consented to my business proposal. It would be risky to start a growing trade, especially an Aether magic one, without at least making oneself known to the powers that be.

My host came in while I was chewing my plans over.

“Apprentice Luc, I presume?” said a deep voice behind me.

I turned and nodded at the Schalass. He was tall and wore a green robe that seemed to be silk. It definitely looked expensive.

“Councillor Toular.” Inrak had coached me on the proper way to address someone of his station.

“Your Master mentioned you were a Human, but I thought you would be younger,” He motioned me to the divan and sat next to me. “I haven’t met many Apprentices of your age.”

“I’m not actually an Apprentice in that I don’t have that Class, nor Inrak’s. I mostly help her around the shop and do her bookkeeping.”

While I was talking, the same servant that guided me here came in carrying a tray with two glasses and a jug on it.

“Interesting,” said Toular. “Will you take wine? It’s a red from the hills of Izale. I have grown quite fond of it.”

“I will, thank you.”

I had tried a few wines at Sirmy’s, but they were a bit disappointing. I hoped this guy had the good stuff. The woman poured both glasses and took her leave with a bow.

“Here you go,” he said. “To your health.”

“And yours.”

I couldn’t look at the robe because the glass was opaque. It had an intense aroma, likely a young wine, though I wasn’t good at discerning the various smells. I knew what I liked though, and the taste as I took a sip left me grimacing.

“Ha!” laughed Toular. “My apologies, you perhaps are not used to wine of this calibre.”

“I actually am,” I replied. “This one is a bit too astringent for me.”

I drank another mouthful.

“Mineral notes,” I said. “Too short. It probably would have benefited from a year or two in a cave before opening it. I don’t think it has quite reached its full flavour yet.”

Toular looked like he had swallowed a lemon. The wine wasn’t quite that bad certainly. To be honest, I knew I was being rude, but I had not appreciated him making me wait just to sell a book. And I did not lie. The wine was too young.

“I was not aware you were a connoisseur,” he said.

Well, I am French, I wanted to say. But that would have raised up a lot of questions I could not answer. And besides, it was a bit of a cliché. Not every French person knew about wine. Most of us only consumed a lot of it. It was actually Margaux that had insisted we take oenology classes, simply to know more about what we drank at first, but we quickly grew to like it. The group we had found was full of old, retired people that met up every other Saturday to discourse more and more incoherently about the wine they tasted as the evening wore on. It was great. We never missed a session, up until Margaux got pregnant, and we swore ourselves we would go back afterwards.

“Oh, I am nothing of the sort,” I said. “But I do love wine. Please forgive me, I did not mean to be rude. It is far better than the cheap ones I can usually afford.”

“Well, we all have our penchants, there is nothing to forgive,” he replied with a tone that contradicted his words. “But you came here about a book. I assume Inrak gave you the money?”

I sensed that he had originally meant to mine me for information about Inrak and her business and how I fit in, but my effrontery had soured his mood. All in all, I found it preferable. I let him think I was only acting as Inrak’s agent. The transaction went quickly and I was politely ejected out of his house just as quickly. I hoped it would not come back to bite me though.

I held my new book, the first one that truly belonged to me, close to my chest. I could not wait to dive into it. I wasn’t close to finding a way home yet, but I made progress, step by step. As long as I did not stop, I would succeed. I had to.