“... and as I was getting ready to leave, another guard approached me about another position. She warned me that it could be dangerous, but she said that with my passion I had a lot of potential there. I’m not sure if I should go for it, or try for something safer. I think I might be able to make a difference, but it could also get me into some serious trouble.”

Bertral nodded slowly, deep in thought. After a moment, he locked eyes with Deilan with a serious expression. “Did you really not know what an introduction was?”

Deilan leaned forward to punch the man, but he dodged back nimbly, trying to speak through the laughter. “Come one Deilan, it’s right there in the name, take some context clues.”

Deilan settled back in his seat, letting out a disgruntled huff. “Okay, fine, in retrospect it’s really obvious. I just got so flustered that I didn’t stop to think. If they had asked for a reference I would have gotten it. What about the other part?”

“I’m not surprised you didn’t do well at a physical aptitude test, you never really enjoyed physical activity. I’m guessing that’s why you’re putting so much thought into platforms that walk for you.”

Deilan picked up a small stone and threw it in Bertral’s general direction. He easily caught the stone without breaking from his chuckles. “Fine, fine. You should take the job. She was right, you do have a lot of passion, and you could do a lot of good with it. Maybe working with someone who can impress upon you the importance of being cautious is a good thing. You’ve always been more willing to take a risk than you should be, as evidenced by the ignoble end of your last job.”

“Hey, that fire wasn’t really my fault. If the original runes had been made correctly, they would have never caught fire like that.”

“So you keep telling everyone. What I’m trying to say is that you’ve always been willing to take risks, and this is the first time I’ve seen you hesitate at one. If this guard can make you slow down and think about the consequences of what you’re thinking of doing, I think this would be a great opportunity for you.”

Deilan frowned at the idea, feeling that the omission of the library incident was leading Bertral to a false conclusion about how much the guard had helped. Come to think of it, I don’t think I caught her name. I was so panicked I didn’t think to ask. Still, Bertral was right that this was the first time he had ever had this much caution towards a project. Maybe it would be a good thing to learn to approach things with the same mindset, and this would offer the opportunity to learn that skill.

As well, how could he turn down the opportunity to learn so much, and make a real difference? Is that a contradiction? Can I really both be cautious and walk head first into this dangerous situation? His dreams were dangerous though. He had always known that. Now he had the opportunity for an ally in a position to help him.

“I think you’re right. I think I need to at least go to this interview.”

Bertral smiled, and walked over to pat him on the back. “Of course I’m right, I always am. Now you’re dry enough, let’s pick up that clay you need and head back to your place. I don’t know what your dad’s cooking tonight, but I want in.”

Deilan lay in bed that night, trying to plan his next course of action. Strangely enough, his parents had been a huge help here, despite operating under the false assumption that he was interviewing tomorrow for a “related position” at the estate. When his father had asked him why he had chosen the Hesling Estate to apply for the position, he had made an offhand comment about it being the first one to allow him through the gate. His father had seemed shocked at this revelation, and the rebuke rang fresh in his mind.

“If you want to take a job somewhere, you should know what they stand for. I had thought that when you said that you were going to look into who was hiring, you were going to do some research. Hesling has a decent reputation, but some of the houses are known for actively pushing to restrict inscribed items. What if you had taken the job, only to learn that your new employer was pushing for the council to shut down all the growth our city is seeing?”

He hadn’t had a good answer to that, but his parents had given him a startled look when he had nodded thoughtfully and promised to do better. The heat had left his father’s voice at that, and Bertral had chimed in about some fancy bit of landscaping he had done on a particular lord’s manor, distracting everyone from the topic.

After dinner, he had asked his mother about the noble houses, and she had shaken her head, making a comment about the academy “being so focused on the future that it neglected the past and present.” He had understood that the nobles had a council formed of the heads of households for each of the 27 houses. What he didn’t know was that there were several factions within the council, pushing for various ends.

On one end was the Sandis Estate and their allies, pushing for strict regulations of inscriptions, with training of new inscribers and oversight of production by a council-appointed body. According to his mother, this faction was mostly concerned with preserving the power of the nobility and breaking down the faction of the newly wealthy in the city. From her vitriol on the topic, he sensed that she might not be unbiased on the matter.

On the other end of the spectrum was the Delthanar Estate and their allies, pushing for nothing more than a tax on sales, with a rumor that there was a push to release some of the restricted runes for use in crafting. Whether the rumor had any merit his mother wasn’t sure, but she seemed to have mixed feelings on the matter. It seems that even among the more progressive commoners, there is some trepidation about the dangers the restricted runes represent.

In between the extremes were several small factions wanting to meet somewhere in the middle. She hadn’t known much about Hesling’s exact views, but she knew they at least didn’t want to halt the production of inscriptions. With those factions, she kept an ear to the ground in case there were any major changes that would affect her business.

It turned out that there was also a faction of crafters and merchants pushing to be added to the council, to give the common man a vote. There hadn’t been much traction there, but she was convinced that Delthanar was working behind the scenes to raise support for the idea.

It had been a lot to take in. He had excused himself shortly after, saying goodnight to Bertral so he could head to his bedroom to think. Bertral had asked to see his new wall art, and taking the hint, he had led him back to the room to quickly patch the crack in secret. With a quick hug, he had wished Bertral a good night, and closed the door behind him.

He had pictured the nobles as a united front, discussing issues to come to a mutual decision that benefited all. Apparently I really do keep my head in my runes too much. All it had taken was a few minutes to ask the question, and his mother had been happy to help him.

Making up his mind to not go in blind, he opened his blinds enough to let in light to the room. Focusing to activate the focal rune on the lights, he moved to his desk, took a seat, and pulled out a small notebook. Over the next couple of hours, he began to make an outline of the questions he’d ask tomorrow.

Deilan stood outside the restaurant, trying to steady his nerves. The day had seemed to drag out, and he had attempted several projects to keep his mind occupied. Unfortunately, he had been so distracted that he couldn’t even trace his fractal correctly. He had finally been forced to just wander the streets to burn some energy.

The restaurant looked pretty unassuming. It was sculpted clay in the newer style, with a tasteful mural of a sunset over the river painted on the side. Light spilled from the glass windows on the door, As he watched, several people in nice merchant garb wandered out, laughing amongst themselves. That spoke to a higher-end clientele, although not so fancy as to require him to dress up to enter. Just as well, as he was wearing something well-made but fairly drab to avoid drawing attention to himself. He wasn’t quite sure why the guard had chosen this place, as it didn’t exactly scream working-class eatery.

He had begun making his way towards the door when a voice spoke behind him, making him jump.

“I appreciate you being punctual, that’s a good sign. Walking right by me, not so much.”

He turned and saw the woman leaning idly against the wall of a nearby building, staring at him with a small smirk. He had idly noticed her standing there when he walked up, but hadn’t associated the woman in loose fitting pants and baggy shirt with the guard in bulky padded armor who had been glaring at him the day before. I really am an idiot, is a change of clothes and a different hairstyle enough for me to lose someone in a crowd?

“I’m so sorry, I should have recognized you.”

“Don’t worry about it kid, we’ll work on that. Follow me. We can talk more inside.”

She strolled by him at a leisurely pace, not turning to see if he was following. Something about her walk unsettled his mind, speaking of a danger that he couldn’t consciously recognize. Okay, just because I didn’t notice her earlier doesn’t mean I need to be paranoid about a walk. I need to calm down.

She headed straight to the door and walked in, while he trailed behind. The sudden bright light in the restaurant forced him to blink for a moment, and she paused in the entryway to give him a moment to let his eyes adjust. The smells of the restaurant hit him, and he was suddenly hoping that this meeting would include a meal. From what he could smell, the cooking style differed from his father’s, but didn’t wasn’t any less appealing.

Once he was able to see, he nodded to her, and she stepped forward to gesture to one of the waiters bustling across the room. He came over and gave a small bow, smiling at the sight of her.

“Hello ma’am, we have your room set, I can show you the way.”

She smiled at him, and with a quick “Thank you Janis,” began following him to one of the doors along the wall.

As they walked through the room, he saw that the initial group of merchants weren’t outliers, although the general atmosphere of the restaurant was rather quaint. The tables had actual candles set, and the food was brought out to various groups as a single pot which was shared amongst the occupants of the table. A quick glance showed that the pot was uninscribed, likely cooked over direct heat. I don’t get it, why make it that much harder to prepare? This place can obviously afford more modern cookware.

He hustled slightly to catch up, reaching the door just behind Janis and the woman. Janis opened the door with another bow, gesturing them inside. He could see a small square table already set with place settings and glasses, a small pitcher, and a stone disc inlaid in the center to hold one of the pots he saw earlier. A small chandelier hung overhead, actual candles set in there as well. The woman entered first, taking the seat to the right of the door. He shrugged, and walked over to the seat on the left.

“The food will be along in just a moment,” Janis remarked, before closing the door behind him.

Deilan turned to the woman, and asked the first question on his list, the one that should have been asked yesterday. “So, what was your name? You never said yesterday.”

The woman blinked at him, then barked out a laugh. “Crap, I didn’t, did I. Sorry about that. The name’s Malia. You doing any better? Yesterday I was worried you’d drop dead of nerves on your way out.”

“Oh, umm, yeah.” He found himself flushing again, a habit he really needed to get out of. “I’m really sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what came over me, and I started panicking. I just want you to know I’m not normally like that. That whole thing really made me stop and reevaluate myself yesterday.”

She smiled at him, genuine warmth on her face. “Don’t sweat it kid. I’ll admit, not the best showing on your part, but we’ll see how it goes. But we can hold off on getting to that until after dinner.”

He nodded at that, appreciating the opportunity to gather himself before starting into the rest of his list of questions. A couple of minutes of light chatter passed, mainly her asking about his family and his life and him explaining his homelife. She seemed to be genuinely interested, and he found himself opening up to her and relaxing as they went on. Eventually, Janis entered with a steaming pot and ladle, and set it on the table. Deilan gestured to him, unable to restrain his curiosity.

“Pardon me, but I was wondering about the lack of inscriptions in here?”

Janis smiled, and the swiftness of his answer spoke to a question he had answered frequently. “The owner is a bit of a traditionalist, and insists that a meal just isn’t the same without proper lighting, and without proper fire heating the meal. Considering how much people seem to enjoy it, I’m not prepared to argue the point. Please enjoy the meal, and let me know if there is anything else you need.”

He turned his attention back to the table, only to see that Malia had already served herself. Taking the ladle and spooning a portion onto his plate. It appeared to be some kind of creamy yellow sauce mixed with long-grained rice and chunks of white meat. He helped himself to a forkful, and had to pause as the sweet and spicy flavors washed over him. He gave a quick glance to Malia, but she appeared to be engrossed in her meal. Thank the gods, I didn’t moan out loud.

From there, the rest of the meal went by in silence. Despite the size of the pot, the two of them polished off the entire serving. That finished, they both leaned forward slightly to begin their conversation.

“So,” Malia said, “I’m guessing you have some questions. Let’s start there.”