“My lord, if I may ask, who did the tanning of this?” Master Marin asks politely. His tone doesn’t let on as to whether he thinks it was a good job or not.

  “I did,” I admit, bracing myself.

  The leatherworker nods thoughtfully.

  “Am I correct in thinking that you used a mixture of mundane and magical techniques on the hide of a Tier two beast?”

  “You are.” I swallow, the anticipation killing me. “So, what do you think?” I prompt. “I will fully admit that I am no expert craftsman.”

  “No, that’s obvious,” the master leatherworker agrees absently, then he tenses and his eyes fly to my face as he realises what he said. He relaxes a moment later at my obvious lack of offence. He clears his throat. “That is, you’ve done an excellent job – for an amateur. Your tanning techniques have sufficiently coated the fibres of the material to keep it in decent condition – clearly aided by some hide-shaping Skill that you have.”

  “But?” I prompt again, hearing it hanging in the air.

  “But…you’ve practically destroyed the magical capacity of this equipment.” He looks at me apologetically. “I wouldn’t classify this material as fit for anything but mundane untiered armour – and maybe not even that due to how the defensive capabilities of it have been so significantly weakened as well. If it wasn’t for the plates and the magic that you evidently saturate it with, I wouldn’t even consider it armour at all.”

  I listen to his words in dismay. The armour has done me well – or so I thought. But from the sounds of it, a proper leatherworker considers it trash-tier. Then again, what did I expect? I am a complete amateur, after all.

  “I see,” I choke out.

  “No offense intended,” Master Marin hurries to add, perhaps fearing that I’m angry rather than disappointed in myself.

  “None taken,” I manage to say after battling down my emotions. I sigh. “What do you suggest?”

  “Starting entirely anew,” he answers immediately. “Any upgrade on this will be wasted.”

  Predictable.

  “Alright, fine,” I grumble a little. “What do you have for me?”

  Master Marin nods sharply.

  “Athos?” he calls. Loran’s brother pokes his head out of a side room.

  “Yes, Master?”

  “Bring out the ready-made armour, would you?” He turns to me even as Athos disappears again. “Please don’t think that I expect you to buy ready-made equipment, my lord – I will happily craft a set specifically for you. But the pieces that my student will bring out will demonstrate what is possible.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing me uncertainly. “I recall that you wished to be certain that your armour works with your Skills. That is entirely understandable, but I would be able to give better direction if I knew what those Skills were….” He trails off nervously. Although it’s a perfectly reasonable question, it’s also quite a sensitive one and he probably feels he’s already been living dangerously.

  I do hesitate – I’ve been in this world long enough to recognise the vulnerability of revealing my capabilities. But I don’t have to tell him all my Skills – just those that are most likely to interact with my armour.

  “You guessed that I have a hide-shaping Skill – it’s actually Flesh-Shaping,” I admit. “And that’s the one I really want to work well with my armour. With my previous equipment, I was able to soak it in my mana and direct it to thicken if I wanted more defenses, thin if I wanted more flexibility, repair itself when it was damaged, and change shape to fit the situation. That capability is something that I want to maintain in my new set of armour,” I tell him decisively.

  Master Marin looks thoughtful.

  “No wonder the inner fibres were in such poor condition,” he comments.

  “Why?”

  “Am I correct in saying that normally you saturate your armour with far more mana than was present when I examined it?” he asks instead of answering my question.

  “You are,” I agree a little shortly.

  “That explains it.” I raise an eyebrow impatiently at him and he hurries to continue. “Whether it was your tanning techniques or the way you’ve manipulated the material again and again without paying attention to the details, the fibres within the hide are broken and disordered. That makes it very poor defensively and significantly limits any enchantments it would be able to hold. But when it’s saturated, your mana makes up for that and brings it back to a decent condition – as long as it’s saturated.”

  “I see,” I comment thoughtfully. I thought I had paid attention to the details but, to be fair, I don’t give my armour as much attention as I would, say, a wound in my companion that I’m healing. Things probably got overlooked. “Then would this happen again in a future piece of armour?”

  “Not with the right enchantments,” the leatherworker assures me. “Ones that work with your magic.” He smiles, looking a little eager. “In fact, with a better base material and careful enchantment, your next set of armour will actually enhance your magic. Imagine: armour that is excellent even without saturation – and even better with it.” His eyes flash with excitement.

  “That does sound good,” I admit.

  “Then we’ll test the materials, my lord, and find out which works best for you. Athos!”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “Grab samples of all the materials we work with, please.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “All of them, Master?” Loran’s brother sounds surprised as he pauses while laying out a piece of leather on a nearby workbench. “Even the ones in the safe?”

  “Even those,” Master Marin agrees, tossing his student a key. Athos disappears into the backroom again. The leatherworker brings my attention back to the ready-made equipment now adorning the closest workbench. “While Athos gathers the samples, let’s see which design best suits you and your fighting style.”

  *****

  Unsurprisingly, we spend longer in the leatherworker’s shop than I was expecting. By the end, my companions are getting more than a little fidgety. But the time spent is essential. Working out which design works best for me was actually the longest part of the process. Ultimately, I decided on a set that is a hybrid between flexible and defensive. It suits my fighting-style – both ranged and melee given the situation.

  Feeling the ready-made sets of armour with my magic was an interesting endeavour. I was right to be wary about just ordering a set of armour for myself – any of those that were already enchanted were highly resistant to my Flesh-Shaping. Several even felt like they might become unstable if I pushed my magic into the material – I didn’t want to cause any explosions so didn’t try my luck.

  The non-enchanted materials accepted my magic, but it didn't feel much better than the hide armour I was used to. Worse, even, as it didn’t accept my magic as easily. I guess there’s something in what Master Marin said about my magic reshaping the hide armour to suit it – and damaging it in the process.

  But he’s assured me that a custom-made set of armour won’t have those issues. In fact, I’ll need to come at crucial stages during the preparation of materials just to ensure that the hide is prepped to absorb and enhance my magic.

  After that, I tested the different samples, and those were pretty interesting too. There were a lot of them and I could tell that, though most were from Tier two beasts, Tier one, three, and even four were represented. The last two Tiers were those that came from the safe – I understand why they’d need to be held under lock and key.

  Each sample had its own ‘personality’ – some resisted my magic, some drank it like water. In the end, we decided on a Tier three drake hide. It’s expensive – of course – but Master Marin indicates that since it comes from a beast powerful even at birth, it will be able to grow with me. Apparently, as long as I take care of it, I’m unlikely to need another set of armour until I hit level sixty – if that even. Even better, since it came from a beast that breathes fire, it’s got strong fire-affinity, making it even more suited to me.

  By the time I leave the shop, I’m more than a little excited about seeing the final product. Apart from my beast companions and guards, everyone else is in a good mood too. I’ve promised that if I’m happy with my armour, I’ll have Master Marin make replacements for the armour I created for the samurans. Alyna and Hunter were both interested by the enchantments and River enjoyed the discussion about the tanning process, even if she wasn’t actively involved. Loran’s discussion with his brother must have gone well too, because although I’m not trying to invade his privacy, I can feel the relief and joy from his side of the Bond.

  “Alright everyone, let’s go back,” I decide when the bell of the shop door tinkles behind me as it closes.

  We head back down the street to find a carriage to take us back to the manor. But as we reach an intersection with a narrow alleyway, my ears catch something that makes me stop and listen.

  “My l–ah, sir?” Bullio asks in surprise at the sudden halt.

  “This way,” I tell him grimly, changing direction and heading down the alleyway.

  “Sir, I’m not sure we should go down here,” he warns me nervously, catching up quickly. “That’s deeper into the poor area, that is.”

  I send out a brief pulse of Inspect and see a group of people loitering suspiciously around the bend. When we reach that point, I give them a firm stare to show that I’ve seen them. Though one of them takes a step towards us, one of the others pulls them back – I’m not sure if it’s my stare or the pony-sized leopard looming over my shoulder that deters him. Either way, we get past unmolested.

  “We’ll be fine,” I tell the guard. “There’s something I want to investigate.”

  With an audible sigh, Bullio doesn’t protest any further, but just signals for Leileh to catch up too. We take up most of the alleyway as we stride through, Sirocco flying over our heads and watching out for trouble. Bastet soon pushes past and helps clear the way ahead – most of those who see us coming press themselves to the sides of the alleyway. Those who don’t are faced with a snarling raptorcat. They invariably follow suit after that.

  It’s not long before we happen upon something that I both expected and hoped not to see. Bastet, Sirocco, and Lathani are unaffected, but the same isn’t true of the rest of my companions.

  Markus…what is this? River asks me as she observes the scene ahead, discomfort rolling inside her. She presses closer to me and I notice that one of her hands is wrapped around her wrist. There are no scars there from her recent torment – I made sure of that – but I’m not surprised that she’s reminded of it. Hunter is silent but she too moves mostly behind me. I sense Catch reacting to his Pathwalkers’ distress – I send him an urge to calm down and use his head.

  If you pull out your spear here, it will cause more problems, I warn him.

  If they try to take my Pathwalkers again…he warns.

  They won’t, I reassure him, then nod at the stage and the people both on top and off to the sides. It’s for humans. Because it seems that, somehow, I’ve happened across a slave auction – straight out of Ancient Rome.

  That one’s not, River points out, tipping her jaws in the direction of one figure who’s standing to the right of the stage, shackled at neck, wrists, and ankles like all of them.

  You have a point, I acknowledge – though the figure is humanoid, his dark purple and bronze skin colour and short, stocky stature makes it very clear he’s not human.

  It’s a damayar, Alyna interjects, her own tone a mixture of apprehensive and pitying. In contrast, Loran is pale and silent, staring at the stage. They’re not human but they’re not beasts either. No offence intended, she quickly adds, flashing a glance at my companions.

  Humans do this to their own people? Hunter asks with horror, sounding as if she hasn’t even heard Alyna.

  As if our own are much kinder, River scoffs, her spikes flashing with orange.

  We don’t tie our own up as prey beasts for the slaughter!

  Not Pathwalkers or Warriors, but what about a hatchling who disobeyed the rule about food prior to Markus taking over? River challenges. How was our treatment of them any better? Hunter is silent, clearly troubled.

  I let their argument go on without really paying much attention to it.

  Are you OK? I ask Loran quietly. He’s still pale and staring. Hey, I jog him gently, putting my hand on his shoulder. He flinches with the contact but it draws him out of wherever he went in that moment. He looks back at me, his eyes too old for his face.

  I always feared I’d end up here, he confesses. His eyes flick back to the stage. On the chopping block. And I get the feeling that his words aren’t entirely an exaggeration.

  You never will now, I assure him.

  No, he agrees and his eyes return to me. Thanks to you. He’s silent, but as his eyes return to the stage, I feel all the words he is holding himself back from saying.

  I follow his gaze, my heart aching. And I decide that I’m going to do something about the injustice before me.

  here!

  here!

  here!

  here!

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