“It’s no problem little man. Hey, you want me to look at your hands?”

“Oh, no their fine, I just pinched myself a whole bunch of times with my tent poles. But I figured out how to put it up properly now, I think. I appreciate the offer though.” He regretted the usage of so many bandages now. His hands were half covered in the thin strips of cloth. It did have a kind of cool aesthetic though. Like the bandages of a mummy or the bindings of a Martial Artist.

“Do you need anything else in that case?” Ralt asked while helping another customer, handing them a small box and taking several gold coins as payment. Mel blanched at the thought of such an expensive treatment.

“One more thing yeah. Do you know if I can get someone to watch the cart, wagon, thing? The guards across the street left, and I don't wanna leave it unaccompanied.”

“Don’t worry about it. We have a personal guard who watches all of our patients' belongings or vehicles. If it gets too late he’ll call a runner to take it to a safe inn. In that case we just add the fee to the bill.”

Mel nodded and turned to walk out. He wanted a pack of the drawing sticks and to see as much of the city as he could. All in all, he had five hours to be a simple tourist. Not optimal, given that he planned to have unlimited free time, but given the circumstances he was still satisfied. The street had cleared up quite a bit since he got his pie. Most people seemed to either be heading back to work, or back home for the day. It was getting a bit late after all.

The chalk vendor, as he discovered that the drawing sticks were called chalk, sold him five packs of red, green, and black chalk for twenty copper. Something so colorful would likely be far more expensive up North. Especially if you were to leave Regalia entirely. He knew that in Sorova such bright dyes would be treated with the same rarity that their spices were treated in Regalia. Sorova was a much larger continent, and was fractured into many kingdoms. Regalia was mostly divided by race.

The streets of Langston held grand sights. Mel stopped by a fountain that spouted rainbows of liquids that never quite mixed. Occasionally rather than obeying normal water flows, the liquid would crystallize into prismatic shards and create splashes into the main body of water. Others had streets that were entirely black and white, with the contrast creating a dizzying effect. He had been certain he would fall through the ground at multiple points.

“This is amazing!” He breathed while the artwork outside of a painters shop literally came off the walls. A peeling motion preempted the manifestation of a butler. A walking image, a breathing piece of art. The black ink clothes and the papery face were absolutely stunning. The butler was the very image of a proud servant.

“If you are pleased by such works, my creator has many more such pieces. I can guide you through a gallery, free of charge. The city pays artists a stipend to allow free tours.” The butler said, his words unnaturally smooth and pleasant.

“I would love to! How does your creator make stuff like this? It is literally magical! Is he some sort of Art Mage, or Ink Golemancer?” He asked rapidly. This was amazing. It could not be said enough. This was exactly the kind of wonders Mel wanted.

“Mistress Tasha is a Lifelike Painter. She can create almost anything with her brush. She doesn’t even require a canvas! The whole world is but a piece of art ready to be painted to her! As you can see here, she can even paint objects that appear so real that they are indistinguishable to an actual object.” The butler said, pointing to the wall he had just peeled off of.

“I don’t understand, where is the painting? Is it the wall?”

“Not just the wall, but the entire building!” He demonstrated by plunging his hand into the brick and mortar. It went through with little resistance. “If you haven’t noticed yet, there is no door to the gallery. The only entrance is to go through the walls.”

The butler then stepped fully through the wall, and Mel decided to follow. The inside of the shop was a child's fantasy come true. Tiny paintings of animals pranced throughout the entire store. Several other people were walking about, aided by similarly styled butlers. A large painting of a dragon took up the ceiling, not manifested like the other paintings, but constantly moving around.

“I'm sure this is all super expensive, but how much would one of these tiny animals cost?” Mel asked, looking at an itty bitty dragon that stared at him from it’s perch on a ‘Look, don’t touch’ sign.

“The cheapest piece you could purchase would be twenty gold. And that would be a butterfly painting that flaps its wings on command. My apologies.”

That was disappointing, but the rest of the shop was not. He spent at least two hours just looking at all the magnificent paintings. The second floor held landscape paintings that a person could walk onto and experience the conditions in the painting. A perpetual storm soaked him with vanishing rain, and a battle field filled the air around him with utter chaos. He could feel the sounds in his bones, reverberating in his chest.

Eventually though, he headed back out into the streets. Langston was famous for having amazing Weavers, and he wanted to see one before he left. If he couldn’t find one tonight, he would check again tomorrow. They were supposed to be absolutely amazing with string. Some were even adventurers, and Mel had no idea how they would fight. Maybe use the strings to bind and strangle monsters? Either way they were cool, and Mel wanted to watch one work.

His first instinct was to ask someone, but the streets had all but emptied at this point. The sun had started setting, and Mel was exhausted. It would probably be fine to just look tomorrow. It wouldn’t be a major loss. He turned to start his way back to Delphi’s shop. Uh. Mel looked around the street. Where exactly had he come from? He didn’t even recognize the road he was currently on.

Mel was absurdly lost. Street after street yielded nothing but strange artwork that became twisted as the shadows obscured them. The sun had set an hour ago, and he simply could not find anyone to ask. No one answered the doors he banged on, and not a soul was out and about. Fatigue had settled on him like a second cloak, weighing him down. Every step sapped his will to keep looking for anything other than a place to lie down. He didn’t even have his backpack with him, so he would have to sleep on a bare bench if he chose that route.

“HEY! IS ANYONE HERE? I’M SUPER LOST!” His screams echoed off the walls unnaturally. Not a soul replied. He got to the end of the paved street, and took stock of his options. Every exit just led to another alley way. More and more endless roads and side streets. He was in some sort of cursed labyrinth, with no idea how he had gotten there and no idea how to get out of it.

Then a light appeared. The shadows that hid reality slowly dripped off the walls, like a current of water washing off the buildings and streets. Mel stared at a confused Guard who was holding a small lantern. The man kept walking forward until he was close enough that he felt comfortable talking and asked “What’s wrong young man? Are you lost, or did someone attack you?”

“I was so lost, and all the roads looked the same and then the walls started looking super weird and spooky and I haven’t slept in two days.” He jumbled, trying to convey the whole story as fast as possible and failing to really explain anything. Other than his sleep deprivation.

“Huh. Did the artwork confuse you? I’ve heard stories from some of the other night shift guys that sometimes the artwork traps tourists, but I thought it was a myth… Well are you okay now?” The man’s face was a mixture of humor and concern, but Mel doubted that the Guard was tricking him.

“Mhm. Can you tell me where to find an inn or something? I’m exhausted and I just wanna sleep this whole thing off.”

The Guard gave him quick instructions on how to find an inn, and after some mild pleading, escorted Mel there. A small fee later and Mel was happily asleep in a real bed.