Chapter

For long moments Jack just nursed his ale, gazing reflectively at the laughing nobles and the boisterous adventurers, all of them clearly enjoying what truly was delicious fare, if his stew and fresh baked bread were anything to go by. The glorious spreads of roasted pork, stuffed pheasant, and baked cheeses he saw being served at more than a few tables also made it clear this was a far more exclusive and luxurious inn than even Timothy had let on, the dining room entire carried off by the soft lilting voice of what were now a pair of female bards singing a tale of tragedy and loss and the impossible ideal that was love.

Even the adventurers, gazed upon almost like celebrities by the nobles below their elevated tables, had softened their tone to better appreciate the song, and Jack couldn't help but think of Stormy's winsome smile, missing her already.

He prayed with all his heart that she wouldn't be forced to pay a price for helping him slip free of a net that would have seen him pressed into involuntary service. And maybe he would have risked staying, if all his dreams of achieving an exclusive class that might almost be worth all he had given up wouldn't have turned to bitter ashes in his mouth, when he was forced to become a healer for the pleasure of others, just one more tool to be exploited by a military that would see him as a cog for their use, and nothing more.

He shivered at the very thought, flashes of press gangs ruining the taste of ale in his tankard, and he could only hope they had already given him up as lost, or at the very least, wouldn't think to hunt for him here.

With a quick twist of his hand, he pulled a handful of coins from his soul pouch. A careful flick of his gaze and he spotted several copper feathers, a silver talon, and a golden crown.

He stole a quick glance of the room around him, relieved that no one was looking his way as he imprinted the feel of each type of coin within his pouch with the coins he now saw in his hand. He spent a few moments embracing that cautious exercise, in very short order finding that he was able to sense and withdraw whatever coin type he wanted with the mental signature it left in his mind when he caressed the soul pouch, surprised and pleased by just how much coin he had.

Over a hundred copper's worth of feathers, over a score of silver eagles, both whole and broken into talons, and three golden crowns.

In short, he had a small fortune, with each silver eagle being worth ten silver talons, or two hundred copper feathers, and each gold crown valued at a full hundred silver eagles, or 20,000 copper feathers each. From his time witnessing Timothy's savvy bargaining in the night market, he knew that each full copper feather was worth at least several US dollars, pre Big Rip, and that was assuming he was getting great value on street foods and cheap nightly rents in dollar hungry parts of the world. And both gold and silver seemed to be worth considerably more here than what they would had been back on Earth. At least ten-fold, if not more. Maybe much more. Not that he was complaining, but it was clear that precious metals were even more precious here than they had been a world away.

As to why so much of the copper and silver coinage was broken along purposely placed crease lines, but the golden crowns, even bigger than the silver eagles, were neither clipped nor split, was a question he dared not ask. But he was, at present, worth a little over 64,000 coppers in free coinage alone.

He could only wonder how much his share of the jewel encrusted chest of gold would be worth here, and was pleased to find himself finally getting a sense of the value of basic essentials, weapons, and the various and sundry one needed to survive in this world. In fact, now that he thought of it, his sense of the value of the coinage in his pocket was now almost instinctive. Once again, he silently thanked his mother for her priceless gift, without thinking too closely on it's origins, grateful as well for the Obscuro rune that made everyone's eyes slide right over his prize. it had been worth every experience point he had invested in that blood rune, as far as he was concerned.

With a pleased smile, feeling like he could finally relax for a moment, he closed his eyes and took note of the ways he had grown that had nothing to do with combat.

Sometime it pays to be coy, and sometimes it pays to be bold. You have learned the basics of Seduction! (Charisma Modifiers are in effect, lucky you!) Seduction incorporates all aspects of social interaction with any potential sexually compatible mate, whether it's just making a good impression in the hopes of future concessions (Charm) to sensing how best to both seduce and please a prospective mate in and out of the bedroom (Seduction), to potentially forging bonds that will last a lifetime! (Empathy)

Seduction is now Novice Rank 1.... Seduction has leveled up to Novice Rank 5!

Stormy is quite pleased with your growth!

You have elected to re-designate Seduction as Romantic Empathy.

Romantic Empathy is now Novice Rank 5!

Congratulations! You understand the basic cost of foodstuffs beyond your family farm! Mercantile is now Novice Rank 1! (Scholarship Modifiers are in effect.)

Congratulations! You understand the basics of bargaining for value. Negotiation is now Novice Rank 1! (Charisma Modifiers are in effect.)

Your hours in the night market apprenticing under a skilled bargainer with an eye for value has taught you the basics well! Synergistic links forged between Mercantile, Negotiation, and (where applicable) Romantic Empathy!

Mercantile is now Apprentice Rank 1.

Negotiation is now Apprentice Rank 1.

Romantic Empathy is now Apprentice Rank 1! (Your charming smile has won concessions from more than one food vendor who took a loss for your pleasure, and at least one student of Etherial magic that you met this night, thinking of you even now!)

Though you dare the Path of Peril, you have taken your first footsteps along the Path of Trade as well!

Jack couldn't help but smile at the notifications. He hadn't really thought of Timothy as a mentor, but the lad definitely had an eye for value, especially when Jack had enticed him with the promise of extra coin for showing him how to spot the best values the market had to offer, and certainly his knack for finding the most scrumptious street fare Jack had ever tasted, save for festivals back home, had given how a sense of just how far a copper feather could take you. And when it would go no further.

And certainly Jack had enjoyed watching Tim make a game of bargaining for absolutely everything he could get, exaggerating disappointment, even miming walking away in a dramatic gesture far beyond what a single meat stick was worth, in the course of his haggling. But Jack was secretly convinced that the food stall merchants had enjoyed the performance as much as he, and obviously his interface had imprinted some valuable lessons. Because as odd as it was to feel a growing sixth-sense growing about the worth of the foodstuffs being consumed within the luxuriously appointed bottom floor of Silver Wand Inn, one thing that Jack now had no doubt of was that enjoying breakfast and dinner, however modest, and a room at this inn for the price of a single silver talon a day was an absolute steel.

With that thought in mind, he raised a hand to catch one of the serving girl's eyes, before wondering if that was even appropriate etiquette here. Yet within seconds, a doe-eyed girl wearing the same style of yellow dress with white trim as Jenny had worn, no doubt the Inn's uniform, was before his table, smiling down at him. "You're our inn's newest guest, right?"

Jack grinned back. "I certainly hope so, assuming I haven't overly offended the powers-that-be?"

The girl smirked. "Not that she's told me, which is a good sign, I think. Was there something else you'd like to order?"

Jack shook his head. "Actually I'm beat, and at this point, I would love nothing more than a soft bed to call my own."

Oddly, the pretty brunette flushed and smiled at his words. "There are warm beds aplenty, here at the Silver Wand. And some are a sight more comfortable than others." She winked conspiratorially. "And it's said that generous patrons are rewarded for their kindness in all sorts of wonderful ways."

Jack nodded politely, neither passing judgment nor wanting to risk any misunderstandings at a place that might, or might not, end up being his sanctuary in this city. "Generous patrons are the blessing of all hard workers, aren't they?" He forced a laugh. "And today's been hard and long both, at least for me. A this point, a good-night's sleep is all I could ask for."

She nodded gamely without missing a beat. "Of course. Has the mistress gone over room rates with you? If so, we'll just put it on your tab with your meal. Tips are separate, of course," she said with a suggestive smile.

"Actually, I was told room and board are both included under Guild rates."

She stilled at those words, her friendly patter immediately halting.

Jack winced, wondering if she thought he had somehow led him on.

"Of course I'll pay for my small beer separately, if there's a charge for it," he said. Because he certainly hadn't limited himself to just a single glass from his pitcher of table beer, which he could tell was a low alcohol brew that was almost porridge-like in consistency, practically a meal in its own right, tasting of hops, malt, roasted almonds and caramel, with the tang of green apples tingling on the back of his tongue, and not bitter in the least.

He knew that low alcohol brews had been a historic alternative to risking tainted water back on Earth, though thankfully this city seemed blessed with clean running water, and as sophisticated a sewage system as one could hope for, in this day an age. But he guessed most people drank it for taste and for a slight buzz, perhaps, though he knew the alcohol content of most table beer was low enough that it had been seen as suitable for students, workers, and scholars, for centuries.

But there was only a pitying shake of the waitress's head. "Small beer's included with your meal, but I think you'll need to warm your bed all on your own. Because girls might be fools with their hearts, but not so foolish as to fall for a man soon to be dead."

Jack blinked, not quite sure what to say to that. All he had asked for was his room.

She sighed, shaking her head when he just stared at her. "Alright, come on. Let's get you to bed so you can do something incredibly stupid tomorrow and end up a corpse, just like the last fellow I dared look at too long."

She then led Jack down a corridor to the left of the dining hall and up several flights of stairs, Jack impressed despite himself by how well made the building was, detecting neither draft nor creek, the fine hardwood floors actually lined with rugs. Truly as fine an establishment as one could hope to rent for a silver talon, Jack thought when the girl opened a door before presenting him with a brass key, and Jack couldn't help grinning at the sight of the plush bed covered in cotton sheets and a double crotchet woolen afghan, looking very much like something he or his sisters would have wiled away a lazy afternoon stitching together for market day.

He blinked, feeling an odd shiver of wonder as he approached the bed, fingers lightly touching the blanket, actually going so far as to pick up the afghan and smell the wool. Before putting it down with a bemused smile, shaking his head. "What a small world we live in."

The girl frowned, gazing at him curiously. "You take a fancy to the blanket?"

Jack grinned. "I just recognized the stitch. And the wool. It's just a wonder to see it come so far."

The girl blinked. "Honestly? You know who made that blanket?"

Jack grinned. "I do."

She chuckled softly, shaking her own head. "And here you are. United with a bit of your past, just like that. What are the odds?" She frowned then, gazing at him solemnly. "I don't suppose you know how to knit yourself?"

Jack grinned. "Sew, knit, weave, crochet, take your pick."

She shook her head, her soft brown eyes now latching onto the collar of his shirt, oddly enough. "My mother's a seamstress herself. She says I have the hands, just not the patience."

Graceful fingertips ran up and down the length of his shirt.

Jack swallowed, hoping she couldn't sense the sudden thumping of his heart.

She then looked up at him, somehow having crossed the distance between them in a single heartbeat, her fingers now caressing the fabric of his sleeve. "I take it you know the seamstress who made your shirt?"

Jack forced a nod. "I do."

She nodded thoughtfully. "A tailor can make a good living in this city, especially if he has the right connections. Knows the right people." she gazed down thoughtfully at his hand, caressing his fingers a bit more than Jack thought necessary, before giving a considered nod. "Your hands are those of a tailor, but they have a swordsman's callouses, and they smell of magic as well." She suddenly flushed. "Trust me, I would know."

Jack nodded. "I believe you."

She chuckled softly, gazing out one of the stained glass windows before lighting the lamp on the end table. "Mages are great for a night of wonder, but the next morning, they're no more real than a sweet dream, fading with the morning dew."

"Very poetic," Jack teased.

"But a tailor?" she nodded thoughtfully. "That's something real. Something a girl can hold on to." She squeezed his hands and smiled. "Tell me you can't stitch together clothing that even the lords of this city would envy."

Jack laughed and winked. "If I could, I certainly wouldn't want to advertise it, lest lords look at me for all the wrong reasons."

She smirked and sighed. "Beats having them not look at you at all. My name's Cornelia, by the way."

"Jack," he said.

"A pleasure to meet you, Jack," she said, before biting her lip and lowering her gaze. "I apologize if I... offended you downstairs."

"Not necessary."

She squeezed his hand. "I just... you're nothing like the jaded lords below who look at you like they've already figured out your price, and you just know that if you... you'll hate yourself the next morning. Even if all the other girls do the same. But you?" she tilted her head. "You just seem nice. Fresh. Like you genuinely care about whoever you're, well, with."

Jack blinked at that. "Well, yeah. Doesn't everyone?"

"Hardly." She flushed, lowering her gaze. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this." She swallowed, shaking her head. "Yes I do. It's because I think I might like you, just a little bit, and I'd hate to get to know you better, then find out you died in the dungeon this part of the city is so famous for."

Her next words were little more than a whisper, sending a chill down his spine. "Just like the last boy I knew."

Jack gently squeezed her shoulder with his hand. "For your loss, I'm sorry."

She smirked, shaking her head. "Don't be. He was an idiot. I knew that from the moment I met him. But he had such a pretty smile..." she sighed. "And he had the sweetest pillow talk. Made me feel like we actually had a future. Said he'd try his hand at Delving, just once, since his father taught him the sword... and if it didn't work out? He'd join the duke's elite cavalry regimen, and become a rifleer." she snorted. "As if the people in charge would let a country boy out of nowhere master their deadliest weapon, when everyone knows gunpowder just explodes from anything at all, even an ill wind, if a mage isn't there to stabilize the bullets and powder kegs."

Jack flashed a sympathetic smile. "So he dreamed big. But it didn't work out."

She chuckled softly. "You could say that." worried eyes gazed up into his own. "He and his three brothers. All daring it together, at the same time. I thought it romantic. Now, I realize they were all fools."

Jack winced. "What happened?"

She swallowed, sitting on the bed, gazing out the window beside him. "Story goes, that it's a gradual descent. That you can feel the low magic pool around your guts. Around your soul. Etherial mages can take a tiny bit of it alright, maybe, so long as they don't step too far in. But a mortal?" She shook her head. "Bobby swore that if he felt the least bit strange, he'd head right back up. His brothers too."

Soft brown eyes filled with unshed tears. "All four went down together. Not a one returned."

Jack didn't know what to say to that, especially when he found himself holding a crying girl in his arms, so he said nothing at all. He just held her and stroked her hair and patted her back, providing what comfort he could to the girl sobbing her heart out.

And when she gazed up at him, her soft brown eyes luminous and beautiful in the moonlight streaming in from the windows, he couldn't deny the shiver of hunger he felt for her.

When warm red lips touched his own, he just held her close.

"Jack?"

He swallowed. "Yes?"

"Can I stay with you, tonight?"

Jack smiled. "Lie down. Close your eyes. Let me share with you a song my mother taught me to soothe a troubled heart."

Her smile was both sweet and wicked, and Jack gently squeezed her palm, voice lowering to the softest of whispers as he caressed her ear with the haunting melody of the forest in all its serene, majestic beauty, as massive redwoods stood sentinel under the quiet rain pattering against countless rustling leaves, lulling an entire forest into a gentle slumber, now mirroring Cornelia's own.

Jack yawned and smiled, ignoring the interface declaring that he had just learned his first sleep spell, knowing it was nothing more than one of his mother's elvish lullabies that had soothed Jack and his nieces and nephews to sleep for as long as he could remember.

Though he was pleased to see that his Romantic Empathy was now Apprentice Rank 2.

He yawned, gently wrapping the girl up in cotton sheet and blankets before performing necessary ablutions, and leaving a handful of copper feathers on the writing table provided in the rather luxurious, if compact room, taking a single sheet of vellum and requesting that she use the coin to buy herself her favorite flowers and breathe deep of their scent while thinking of the wondrous future she hoped to have with someone special, and the steps she needed to take to achieve that goal. And to remember the scent of hopes and dreams, whenever sorrow touched her heart. Only then did he finally take his ease upon the quilted bed covers, just as plush and luxurious as he could hope for, still fully clothed in his quilted gambeson, warm and comfortable enough that he needed no blanket at all, especially with the girl now curled against his back.

And much to his surprise, he fell asleep just as soon as his head rested upon the down stuffed pillow, putting an end to what may have been the longest day of his life so far.