Seifr slung his travel sack over his shoulder as he exited the dining room to the courtyard. Pamela and Master Korrik followed him out. Korrik extended his hand to shake Seifr's in farewell, and Pamela stepped forward to give him a brief hug. True to their word, they had fed him before seeing him off.

"Good luck out there, son." Korrik waved Seifr out the courtyard into the bustling street awaiting him. Master Korrik's smithy was located in a fairly prominent commercial district with other craftsman's homes and workshops populating the area. They were currently in the grand city of Vinson, the capital of the province of North Squire in the Dalcot Empire.

Vinson was a large city that had many reputable craftsmen, and also was home to Seifr's father's business, the Kyian Trading House. It was unclear if the KTH was responsible for the quality and quantity of craftsmen, or if it was the craftsmen that were responsible for the success of the KTH. Either way, Vinson was fairly famous for the symbiotic relationship of the two. The KTH was a prominent trading company that had offices in many cities, including three other provincial capitals in the Dalcot Empire. Despite his reputation of being a respected merchant by the noble class, Morcai Kyian avoided politics, and thus avoided establishing an actual office in the imperial capital, aptly named Dalco.

Seifr stepped out into the street, just another man in the crowd. Even at this early hour, the streets were bustling. Vinson was a very rich city, and the level of commerce at nearly all hours was a reflection of this. The Kyain manor, despite being the home of the owner of the KTH, was located in a rural district away from all of the hustle and bustle of city life. Morcai Kyian preferred a quiet life when he was at home, which meant that Seifr had to navigate the crowds and cross nearly half the city to get to his house.

The young apprentices tasked with cajoling people out of the crowds and into the shops ignored Seifr, as he was a known entity. Many of the younger apprentices would spend the majority of the day working on good old fashioned advertising, attempting to convince strangers that their shops contained what they absolutely could not live without. Street food vendors added to the cacophony of sounds ringing throughout the district, feeding the people who were traversing the roads.

Seifr was always astonished at how loud it was on the street even at such an early hour. The sounds of the smithy kept his attention when he was working as an apprentice, and the solid walls kept most of the noise out.

"Wait. Wait Seifr." Seifr heard someone calling out to him over the din of the crowd. He turned around to see Jorin hurrying towards him while tying an apron on at the same time. Seifr was actually stunned to realize Jorin had called him by his name. "Seifr, actually... umm. I feel awkward doing this. We're told that admitting mistakes and apologizing somehow makes one less of a man or something. I never fully understood that, but that's neither here nor there. We're also taught to respect strength and disdain weakness. Ok ok. What I'm trying to say is that I thought you were weak, but you're not. I should have shown you respect. Whew." Jorin was pale faced and appeared to be slightly panicked. He seemed to be struggling to resolve the contradiction of appearing weak for apologizing but being honest and humble for when one was wrong. Seifr understood what was going through his mind at that moment, because that was not the first time it had happened to him. He was actually expecting something similar for a while now.

"I appreciate that. It took some courage to swallow your pride. Think nothing of it. It's just the way things are, and now you know better. I'm confident we can part as friends." Seifr extended his hand towards Jorin. Jorin had a look of relief come across his face and shook Seifr's hand in parting.

"Yeah, see you 'round." Jorin waved and returned through the crowd to the smithy. Their little scene in the middle of the street went wholly unnoticed by people around them.

Seifr continued his journey through the trade district unmolested after the final farewell. He wandered down the street, lost in thought speculating over the reasons for the sudden call home. Maybe he didn't want me to bulk up too much like the other smiths. Even though he's a big guy himself, father is not a muscle head. Might give off the wrong impression. Or maybe he's sending me on one of the caravans to one of the other cities? Or a fiancee? Hmmmm... Not sure what I think about that at the moment.

Seifr was in deep thought pondering the vastness of the universe, namely, myself, when a commotion caught his attention on the other side of the street.

"Hand it over, I know you have the neidan. I was tracking that beast for several days when you swooped in and stole it out from under me!" As the voice rang out, the crowd seemed to spontaneously create a space around the confrontation. Most of the bystanders just kept walking without even so much as a second glance. Some of the other teenagers stopped to watch the fun.

"Hah, you would claim that the neidan belonged to you. But I slew the beast, and I took it. Clearly it's mine. Now quit harassing me, and make way." The man who responded was garbed in protective leathers apparently crafted from some of the beasts that were popularly hunted. He appeared to be in his mid 20s, and he had a sword strapped to his back. His posture was one of aggression and he exuded the power of the peak of the Elementary Stage.

"Trifling Elementary Stage. If I say it belongs to me, then who are you to claim otherwise? Don't blame me, blame yourself for having what I want and not being strong enough to keep me from taking it." The first man was dressed in a simple outfit. He stood with his arms crossed, and did not appear to be armed. He gave off the impression of being superior to all of those around him.

"We'll see who's trifling!" The accosted man reached up to his sword and drew it forth in a wide arc combining it into an attack on the other man. The other man sneered as he casually avoided the blow, and shot his hand out lightning quick. He was considerably faster than the man with the sword, and the first man stopped in place with a look of astonishment on his face. His hands went limp as he dropped his sword and collapsed to the ground, blood pooling under his body.

The first man covertly sheathed the dagger he had used to end the other man's life as he bent down to rifle through his pockets. He seemed to find what he was looking for and straightened up. As he stood back up, his gaze locked with Seifr's. The man winked at Seifr, then nonchalantly turned and sauntered off. The crowd never even made a noise at this casual murder in broad daylight in the middle of the street in the commercial district.

Seifr shook his head as he continued on his way. That's just the way it is. A city guard will be along shortly to cart the body off and confiscate any valuables not taken by the assailant. Open murder was not something that happened at all hours of the day, but it was common enough that most people just ignored it if they were not involved or interested somehow. It was the law of the jungle when it came to cultivators.

Commoners in the Common or Mortal realm were usually not quick enough or powerful enough to end a fight so quickly, and the city guards were usually able to intervene on time. It was a gamble for them to try to intervene with higher realm cultivators though, because one could never know exactly how powerful the opponent was. Guards could rush in thinking they were up against an Elementary or Nascent Realm, to find out it was actually the Earth Realm, and the next thing known is that half a city block had been destroyed in retaliation. That was the opposite affect the city guard tried to achieve, so over time they had eventually evolved to a system of ignoring confrontations of cultivators.

Seifr soon passed the demarcation line of the commercial district into the residential district. This was not an actual line, and it was not anything so obvious as a clean break between workshops and residences, but it was generally understood that the East Auction House, a subsidiary of KTH, though most people did not realize this fact, was the border between the two. The wealthier residential districts were located in the inner city, with commercial zones acting as a buffer between them and the poorer districts on the outer edges of the city. The imperial offices were naturally located in the center of the city, and also naturally, the more politically savvy and wealthy noblemen wanted to be close to the center of power. Most of the cities in the Dalcot Empire were built this way.

Seifr's destination was on the Southwest side past the commercial district, and even past the commoner district on the other side. Vinson was large enough that it would take several hours to make this trip by walking. During his trek across town, Seifr saw other confrontations between commoners and cultivators alike, but no more that ended with violence. Generally people could be expected to be reasonable in the end. Having hot blood coursing through your veins was a good way to a short life.

Seifr finally saw the manor in the distance. There was no wall surrounding Vinson, though the nobles had been trying to get one approved for a long time, so the countryside would generally creep up on the city. One minute Seifr was walking the streets of the city, the next he was virtually in the wilderness. Seifr's home was on open acreage with a short brick wall built around it, almost like a mini farm partitioned off from the neighbors.

Seifr could see actual farmland stretching out for miles around the city reaching all the way to the forests and true wilderness off in the distance. A large city like Vinson needed to eat, and a lot of commoners were employed as farmhands. Most of the farmlands were actually owned by the peerage, but a significant portion was owned by commoners. Morcai owned the plot directly adjacent to his property. If there was a market for it, Morcai was interested in it. Seifr had spent a season reaping wheat three years ago when he had just turned 12. One of the first "apprenticeships" he had experienced, and it had almost traumatized him when he thought his father was banishing him to be a farmhand.

The security at the manor was light. There were only a couple of token guards, though they were all at least in the Nascent Realm. Not many people had the guts to rob Morcai Kyian, and the noblemen needed his services too much to get on his bad side.

Seifr quickly crossed the threshold of the wall to the manor. When he entered, there was a servant waiting to take his bag to his room. Seifr knew he could find his father in his office. Although KTH had an actual office where many people were employed, Morcai worked from home and had his manager oversee the office building in the center of the city. Seifr had spent a winter there learning how to do the books when he was learning more advanced reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Upon entering the office, Seifr was surprised to see that his father was not actually busy at work, but was instead seated at a plush chair, drinking wine, and conversing with a stranger. The stranger was likewise seated with glass of wine in hand. He was amicably chatting with Seifr's father, and he had a profound aura about him. Clearly he was a man of note, though Seifr had never noted him before.

"Greetings, Father; greetings, sir." Seifr entered and gave a short bow while he politely greeted the two seated men.

"Ahh, Seifr. You've returned. No doubt you're curious as to why I cut your time short with the blacksmith. This man here, Kveld, is the answer. He is a personal cultivation tutor for the nobility. To our good luck, a slot opened up. I contacted my friends in the peerage and got you a spot in his school, The Misty Realm." Morcai appeared quite pleased with himself.

The Misty Realm was quite famous in Vinson as the quasi-sect for the nobility. There were many nobles who joined sects, but it was an unwritten rule that they would then focus on that sect and stay out of the imperial politics. It did not always happen, but usually the other nobles could apply pressure, overt and otherwise, to bring these rules to bear. If a noble family wanted the young masters or mistresses of the family to gain the use of resources and instruction others could with a sect, but also be able to influence the empire, then the children would attend a cultivation academy or private tutor. The Misty Realm was the only noble academy in Vinson, and thus was quite demanding in its entrance qualifications for non-nobles.

Kveld frowned over his wine glass as he took Seifr in with one glance. "Your son appears to be falling behind his peers in cultivation. Don't worry if he doesn't have any talent. We can always beat that into him." Seifr was not sure if he liked the sound of that.