The guard, a slight man by the name of Oddin, led us through bustling understreets of Freeport commenting as we passed various structures and stands.

  “And that’s the temple of Pendu Pecholesse, great place to hole up for the night if you’ve managed to annoy someone.” He said, motioning to a building that looked more like a fortress with its crossbow equipped guards atop its stone walls and two men in shining plate at the front gate. There were details, runes at a guess, carved into the walls but I couldn’t spare them much time because Oddin kept walking and talking.

  “The Pendies fight a good fight. The best fight by how they tell it. Putting down undead wherever they show up and working to ease those who have been blighted by them. But they’re a bit too fanatical in my opinion. All the church of Cantilla is doing is providing miners, not like zombies can do much else, and each zombie in those mines is one less person buried when the bracing goes. Though, given the costs of maintaining the zombies and how tight the Governess has been with funding, might just be that the Pendies get their way.”

  “Wait, you meant to tell me that you have un…” I tried.

  “And on your left you’ll spot the Undermarket,” Oddin said, quite amiably talking over me. “Best place to get anything you need down here. Word has it you can even find some things that are of grey legality. Just don’t go sharing that bit of advice around or showing what you got or I’ll have to confiscate it, if not arrest you.”

  “Are you aware of the contradiction…”

  “Anyways, up there on the right is the public bathing house. Only a penny for the simplest affairs…”

  I sighed and turned to the quartermaster, “He’s not going to answer any of my questions, is he?”

  The quartermaster gave me a pitying look before shaking his head. “If it wasn’t for the fact that he seemed utterly unsurprised by your destination and the fact that he sought you out, I’d be worried about us being duped.”

  The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Part of it was admittedly my lack of experience, but the other part was just how blatant he was with his contradictions. Not once had he bothered to pretend that the law was something that I was going to always be on the right side of. In most cases, I’d imagine that assumption would rankle, but given how we were in elven lands and my very existence might be a crime I was appreciative of the rough pragmaticism of it.

  “It is certainly novel having a law man instructing me on how to break the law,” I said for lack of better words.

  “Law keepers have always been noted abusers of that which they are expected to uphold. ‘Corrupt lords and tax men steal more in a year than a pickpurse might in their life.’”

  I only barely recognized the quote and could not name the source, but it was unsettling to think such a cynical viewpoint was working in my favor. “Although, in some ways, him talking so blatantly about skirting the law helps me think that he is here to help. I imagine that someone trying to trick me into being a guard would be trying to be far more upright than Oddin is.”

  Oddin continued his lecture unabated by our concerns.

  “Over there you can see some of Xi-Ao’s devoted preparing a demonstration of how they have found enlightenment through self-perfection. Personally, I think they’re a bunch of idiots trying to find meaning though reflecting over contradictions and sitting around chanting, but they seem happy enough.”

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it, and swallowed the questions his speech had provoked knowing they’d go unanswered. Our path took us past the ground where the demonstration was taking place. One of the men, a short and stodgy manikin with a beard the color of stained wood.. With a deep, and slightly theatrical, breath he began to chant. I didn’t recognize the words, but the cadence was similar to one of the concentration exercises I used to help me focus. But unlike mine, which stayed low and even throughout, his built. And when it reached a crescendo, he stomped the ground and then leapt straight into the air, landing a solid twenty paces away atop one of the market stalls.

  Many people applauded, myself and the quartermaster included.

  “Feh,” Oddin said, “Nothing I couldn’t do with a bit of Naynroot, bird feathers, and a bit of smoke.

  I turned back to him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. First was in the fact that he even knew of Naynaroot, which was an infrequent substitute even at the academy, but more impressively that he knew that it could be used in lightening effects. The plant itself naturally floated which gave kolim harvested and potions made from it a natural benefit in such brewing. I had thought that relatively obscure magical knowledge and given the quartermaster’s confusion, I didn’t feel wrong in that assumption.

  “Are you a mage too?” I asked Oddin using the politest tone I could once we started moving again.

  Surprisingly, that got a response out of him. He laughed, loudly before awkwardly stopping and clearing his throat as if remembering himself, but it was something at least.

  “No, uh, disrespect to you and your abilities,” he eventually said. “But if I could work magic, I certainly wouldn’t be a guard.”

  I smiled politely at his answer. On one hand, I was curious why he thought that was disrespectful, but on the other and more relevant side he had answered the immediate question but not the underlying one which was frustrating. I was busy trying to figure out how to politely probe when the quartermaster made it irrelevant.

  “So then how do you know?” I nearly winced at the tone, sharp and demanding, not the type of tone I would have ever taken with a lawkeeper and certainly not one I was inclined to take with someone helping me out.

  Oddin, however, seemed more bemused than insulted. “Spend enough time in this job and you’ll be surprised at the things you learn.”

  An opening. “Oh?” I asked, tone politely curious, “How does a guard learn about magical supplies?”

  He smiled a knowing smile, like Elder Junpei would when someone asked a particularly insightful question, before turning away from us. “The fastest way to the surface is by the Immendium,” he declared, pointing to a small building along the back wall that had a small contingent of what looked to be merchants gathered around it. The building was plain, but from its roof stretched a pair of ropes and metal beams, leading up to a tunnel in the cavern ceiling. “If we’re quick, we can catch the next one.”

  Another deflection, and a particularly unsubtle one at that. I sighed and then immediately remembered my decorum and straightened my face before anyone noticed that the sound might’ve come from me.

  “If you say so,” I said for lack of better words.

  Oddin gave me a curious look at that. Surprise? Had he not expected me to go with the conversation? I gave him my best polite smile and after a moment he turned back towards the Immendium, leading us forward.

  “How is a building going to get us to the surface?” the quartermaster asked under his breath. I shrugged. And with that, we made our way after Oddin.

  The gathering outside the building turned out to be a line, well marked and clearly delineated, but Oddin lead us right past the people waiting and to the front where a quick conversation with the guard at the door led to us being let through immediately. There was some grumbling, but if Oddin cared, he certainly didn’t show it. If anything, he seemed openly amused at the merchant’s frustration.

  Smiling, he led us through a side door to the building, then through an archway into a small room where some of the merchants were resting, either standing by their pack animals or along one of the benches on the wall. There was another archway on the farside of the small room, but it was blocked by a solid wall of stone. In fact, the only way out seemed to be the way we came in. I looked around confusedly and found Oddin sitting on one of the side benches. I cocked an eyebrow as a silent question and he motioned to the bench beside him. Annoyed, I took the seat.

  “And now,” he declared, “we wait.”

  The quartermaster sat on the other side of me, opposite Oddin and promptly turned away to not look at either of us. Oddin paid both of exactly no mind and pulled a fruit from an unseen pocket. It was shaped like a peach, but was waxy red and made a notable crunch as he bit into it.

  My stomach rumbled slightly at the sight of food. I had eaten with the elves on the trip here, but trail rations were not the same as what looked to be fresh fruit. My worries and curiosities were pushed aside by dreams of a proper meal. After this tower, I’d have to find an inn or somewhere to sup.

  It was then I realized that I had never had to find an inn before. Thuuvik had known where to go, but he had been picky, often avoiding several before picking one at what seemed like random. I hadn’t asked why, I had been too distracted in both Tsuruga and Uvenallos to realize it might be a skill I’d need to cultivate.

  I comforted myself in the knowledge that at least I knew to search for an inn. I hadn’t known even that before leaving Imardos, hadn’t been relevant to life, but my partial knowledge seemed woefully incomplete.

  Perhaps Oddin could help once we found our way to the tower? He hadn’t minded leading us there in the first place for all that he had avoided questions. Or perhaps the quartermaster? This wasn’t the first time he had left Mulvalod, so he probably knew something more than I did.

  At least I knew I could cover the costs of food. Thuuvik had been quite thorough in his instruction about what my coin was worth and what a fair price was considered to be for items. Suppose it made sense for a merchant to focus on coin.

  We sat like that in silence for a while. Me lost in thought, Oddin snacking away and the quartermaster pointedly looking away from either of us. I was only rattled out of my thoughts when the quartermaster bumped into me, jostling me back to the present.

  The room had filled, practically packed together with how close people were. I had enough room to breathe, but someone’s pack kept coming dangerously close to my face.

  “Mind your purse,” Oddin suggested, completely unfazed with how crowded the room had become. “Nobody should try something with a guard right here, but there are plenty of thieves with no brains and less sense.”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of that. First, how could someone have less than no sense? Secondly, how did a thief have no brains? And finally, how did a city have so many thieves that there could be a delineation between those with brains and those without? The closest we ever had to a thief was the argument between Nostram and Meliniae over a chicken that one Nostram claimed Meliniae stole and Meliniae claimed had simply hopped the fence between their yards.

  While I was contemplating that, the entire room lurched and shook and I was met with the strangest sensation as if the ground and seat beneath me was lifting up. I twisted my neck, trying to see through either of the archways, but my view was blocked by the sheer number of people. Though, most of them seemed calm about the situation.

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  “Relax, breathe,” Oddin said bemusedly, “It’s okay”

  I turned to focus on him and his wry smile and felt a sudden urge to punch him. Granted, I was more likely to hurt myself doing that than him. But then again, I wasn’t going to get better without practice.

  The urge passed and with its departure a small amount of shame at how close letting my impulses get the better of me I had come.

  Oddin made the remains of his fruit disappear before turning back into his informational self.

  “The docks and surface are almost a half-mile above the Eddex,” he trailed off and shook his head before clarifying, “The cavern complex we just left. Traveling by foot involves going through several of the smaller caverns and neighborhoods, which would’ve taken us all day. The Immendium,” he said, pausing to reach between his legs and pat the bench, “Is a lift system that will carry us directly to the surface and will only take us a half-hour.”

  That, to state it plainly, was a lot of information to process at once, which also inspired a lot of questions. I blinked, and sorted those questions into an order of priority. I didn’t know how long a half-hour was but I intended to make the most of it. Oddin wasn’t talking endlessly, which I took as an invitation to ask questions.

  “If it would’ve taken us most of the day to travel through those other locations, just how many people live in Freeport?”

  Oddin shrugged, “I’m not sure there’s ever been an official count done, but there are plenty of guesses and estimates.” He paused as something caught his eye, I tried to follow his eye and couldn’t find what he was looking at. Eventually, to my surprise, he continued. It seemed I found a topic that he was willing to answer questions about. Useful. I didn’t know how someone couldn’t know how many people lived in a place, but that was another question and the first hadn’t been fully answered.

  “The estimate I trust the most puts us at somewhere around one million,” he continued. “including the Eddex, Freeport Above, the noble estates, and everything in between.”

  My brain strained to understand a number that large. Thuuvik had mentioned it, but I had largely dismissed it as unnecessary. The largest number we had in Tho-myon translated to ten thousand. Even the most common use of that number, an expression which directly translated to, ‘May you and your family have ten-thousand years of good fortune’, used it as a placeholder for unending or without measure.

  “That’s a lot of humans,” I murmured to myself.

  “Oh,” Oddin said, shaking his head, “No no no. It’s not just humans here. They’re the majority, but there’s a bit of everything. The Dragonkin have an enclave down by the docks and there are numerous elves, Gold and Sea mostly, since Freeport is technically a vassal state of the Runnan Empire. The Menikin have a consulate as well. Hell, there’s even a Porforokin commune down in the Eddex. There’s countless other groups, each with their own small section. In fact, the only thing we’re really missing is a Morphkin community, but that’s because most of them are slaves by Imperial Law.”

  I winced and given Oddin’s turn of face, he noticed my slip up.

  “Is there a dusk elf enclave?” The quartermaster asked from my side.

  I hadn’t realized he had taken notice of the conversation, but I was grateful that he had. With him engaging Oddin in conversation, I was able to gracefully disengage and hopefully my mistake would fall out of mind quickly.

  “You need to get a better handle on your emotional reactions,” Rin noted. Wincing like that in front of the wrong the person could expose you regardless of what you look like.”

  I made the mental equivalent of a nod. She wasn’t wrong, I just wasn’t sure how to practice that effectively.

  “Adversity has been a very able teacher.”

  “Adversity?” I asked before realizing what she meant. “You mean the Bolt Jaguar?”

  “The stakes are roughly equivalent. Succeed or die.”

  There was an argument about the different between enslavement and death, but given the stories I had grown up hearing about the elves, there was little functional difference to me. The goal was to finish this quest and go home. Slavery and death would equally effective in preventing that from happening.

  Sighing, I pushed Rin back into the corner of my mind. The conversation between Oddin and the quartermaster had gotten far enough afield I wasn’t sure where to even attempt reengaging, so instead I turned my attention to the surrounding groups and watched them move about. Looking to answer my questions about Freeport through observation instead of directly.

  I’m not sure what I hoped to learn, but I don’t think I found it. There were just too many people and I lacked too much context. The clothes, the people, even their hair colors varied far too much for me to even attempt finding patterns. The only pattern was the lack of one as far as I could tell.

  “Except there is a notable absence in hair colors.”

  I started, but she was right. Must’ve been something I had picked up on subconsciously, but there were plenty of people with darker hair. From wood hues, running the full range of browns from light as birch to as dark as mahogany, and several people with various depths of black. In a lesser amount there were also the various shades of grains, some as yellow as wheat and a pair as white as rice could be. But nowhere I could see was a single head of red. In maybe a hundred people, mostly humans and elves, there wasn’t a single one.

  I wasn’t getting stares at being unusual, so it clearly wasn’t completely unheard of, but it was notably lacking. I thought back to the previous ports and realized with a start that I couldn’t remember any one else with red hair since I had left Tsuruga.

  Surely I was mistaken.

  But even as the Immendium lurched to a stop, perhaps a total of twenty kedu since we had first left, I still couldn’t think of anyone else with red hair. I likely would’ve kept thinking, but as the Immedium settled into place, doors that filled the once empty archway opened, flooding the interior with daylight and bringing the sound of a bustling crowd beyond.

  I went to stand and make my way to the door, but Oddin put his hand on my shoulder calmly, his voice politely and calm so it wouldn’t stand out. “We have to wait our turn. Easier if you just sit. Helps you stand out less.”

  I nodded, quietly and sat with Oddin and the quartermaster for a while the merchants moved their carts and animals out, followed by the families closest to the doors. When most of the Immendium had cleared, only then did Oddin and quartermaster stand to escort me to the door.

  The light, muted by having to filter through a doorway, blinded me as I stepped off the wooden floors and onto the stone walkways. I blinked profusely trying to get my vision back, but my eyes struggled to adjust after so long underground.

  And when my vision seemed to resolve into clear images, I kept blinking because I didn’t believe, couldn’t understand, what I was seeing.

  The Immendium had dropped us into a market style square, with numerous stalls set up, creating neat rows of merchants with more people than I could count filtering between the stalls and through the narrow walkways between them. The sheer number of people boggled the mind. There were, easily, more people within easy distance of me than the entire village of Imardos. But, that’s not what held my eye. No, what held it instead was the sheer number of tall buildings. At home, only the academy, its associated buildings, and the Refrectories were tall enough to have multiple floors and I knew that their structures had been magically reinforced to help ensure the taller structures lasted. Here I couldn’t find a single building that wasn’t two levels tall, at least. I could see several buildings three and four levels tall from where I stood, towering far above us like painted trees.

  I had thought that Uvenallos and Mulvalod had freed me of the shock of tightly packed buildings, but the sheer quantity had staggered me once again.

  Oddin tugged at my shoulders, “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, but having you stand there slack jawed is drawing attention that I don’t think you want. Step quickly, and welcome to Freeport.”

  Despite my best efforts, I found myself stealing curious glances at the tall buildings and down the side streets more often than not as Oddin led the way through the masses.

  Well, perhaps masses were the wrong word. While there were more people here than I had ever seen in my life, the streets were wide enough to accommodate them most of the time. There was the infrequent moment where the people would be knot for a moment, obstructed by a cart or performer, but otherwise people kept moving. Still, I found myself wanting to stop and look at all the wonders.

  Many of the shops had large glass windows out front displaying their goods. And while the goods; dresses, instruments, toys, and the such; were very impressive and pretty, the fact that they could make glass that was wider than my arm span across and stretched from the floor to ceiling was the most impressive part to me. The largest single piece of glass I had seen before this was barely bigger than my handspan. And it had bubbles, bowed, and a faint yellow-brown tint to it. The glass on these buildings was even and clear through and through.

  “How do they do that?” I asked Oddin when he pulled me away from a clothing shop.

  “With a loom I’d imagine,” he responded, weaving through the crowd. Thankfully, he wasn’t physically dragging me.

  “What?” I asked confused, “Oh, no. Not the dresses, the glass. How did they make so much glass and make it so even? It looks like captured water.”

  The confused look on his face was amusing at first, but that quickly gave way to apprehension.

  “What back….” he started with a look that was difficult for me to understand before taking a deep breath. “Nevermind. There’s a factory a mile south of town where they make it. I’m not sure how they do it, but that’s where it’s done.”

  I blinked, trying to remember what all the words he said meant. I remembered that a mile was a measure of distance, some official count of some dead man’s pace. Or maybe it was their foot length? I didn’t recall. The word factory, however, was a new word for me. Though one I had enough context to guess what he meant, I wasn’t entirely certain how that was different from a ‘mill’. And given Oddin’s snappy tone, I wasn’t about to ask for clarification. Clearly I had offended him somehow.

  I was about to lean back to the quartermaster and make a comment about how unhelpful Oddin had become when a thunderous roar tore through the street. I froze, immediately looking up for falling debris, and then around when I found none. The skies were clear, so it couldn’t be a storm, razorhail or otherwise, blowing in. I had no idea what that noise could have been, but it was clearly something relatively normal in these parts. It confounded me, but given that the people around us were just moving normally, looking around would mark us as outsiders. Quickly, I grabbed the quartermaster and pulled them along lest we stand out more than we already had.

  “What was that?” the quartermaster hissed once we caught up to Oddin.

  “Boom carriage,” he said quickly, pausing to slide past someone before continuing, “It’s a transport that connects the city to the countryside. Makes it so they don’t have to spend six hours a day in a horse carriage to come visit.”

  So many words I didn’t know there, but I decided to focus on the currently most important question. “Okay, but why is it so loud?”

  “Part of the speeding up process. It’s not actually that loud, we’re just close to the station. Come on, we’ve got a clock tower to get to.”

  And so, we walked.

  And walked.

  And walked some more. Somehow all without leaving Freeport. We walked mostly in straight lines and along what seemed to be major roads, which should in theory make the trip quicker. But it didn’t seem to. To help gather some scale, I counted how many times I could have crossed my village, but gave up after fifteen instances as it became impractical to visualize.

  It didn’t help that the city didn’t really change. Tall compact buildings, too many people in the streets and walkways, and performers every so often trying to earn coin. The only real change was the quality of the buildings, worse at first and then slowly better. Eventually, our walking turned into idle commentary and then conversation to pass the time.

  The sun was high as I was just wrapping up talking to Oddin where they got all the stone for the buildings from, mining mostly, when the bell started. *BONG* it rang out, its brassy tones filling the air. Sea birds took flight, flapping frantically away from the sound, hard to see in the midday sun. Quietly, I passed my companions and turned the corner.

  At the center of a large common’s square stood a clocktower easily twice the size of the Refrectory, with its brass bells swinging wide. Behind it stood the sea and various ships at port. This was it, the next stage of my journey. With scarcely a thought in my mind, I stepped forward, into the crowd.

  *BONG* went the bell. Around me, people started leaving the square, moving towards the exits.

  *BONG* it went again. Somehow, despite the rush of people, I made steady and even progress.

  *BONG* “Star… Kara,” the quartermaster cried out. “We can’t keep up. Slow down.

  *BONG* it went again. “Fanded people, move!” Oddin yelled.

  *BONG* Their voices faded away. The square was mostly empty now, the sounds of motion dying out behind me.

  *BONG* It was beginning to get eerily quiet, but I couldn’t think about that for too long before…

  *BONG* The vision was falling together now, I could almost predict when the next bellstrike would be

  *BONG* and see what was going to happen next. Like I knew everything

  *BONG* up to when the bells would stop ringing and not a moment more

  *BONG* all I had to do was finish my walk forward and see what happened

  *BONG* now.