“What was that all about?” Gareth asked under his breath, knowing that Ivor would hear him.

  “It is standard procedure. There are creatures in the wilds that can impersonate a Sethnari and assume our forms. The jade slip is linked to our very souls, and then imprinted in the imperial registry. The gate guard used this registry to verify whether this one is truly First Ranger Ivor Hansen, or whether I am a Boo Hag that had taken my skin.”

  “Can’t this Boo Hag just steal your slip?”

  “No.” A very definitive answer, and Gareth didn't feel comfortable pressing further than that. Ivor obviously seemed reluctant to say too much on the topic.

  Light bloomed from the end of the long tunnel that was positively fucking covered in murder holes. They also weren't walking on stone, but on thick steel grates, beneath which Gareth heard rushing water, like a storm drain.

  I pity the fool that tried to poke his dick in this tunnel -- Gareth thought with a chuckle, though kept his crass metaphor to himself.

  They were the only two people to step beyond the tunnel, and the view beyond forced him to take a moment. Shockingly wide and shockingly sturdy, a wooden bridge wet with rain led into Gareth's first taste of Utgard. A frontier city like none other. The sound of droplets gently pattering against the dark wood soothed Gareth on a fundamental level. He ran his hand along the wet railing, feeling the grain, the cold, the wet. He felt the damp on his skin, the wind in his face, the freedom in the air.

  "Come, Gareth Elson, we must hurry to the manner. The tamed feel of a city unsettles this one."

  "Oh, sure. Sorry buddy. Let's get going!" He smiled widely to show no offence taken and rejoined Ivor on their trek across the bridge. Now, Gareth had grown up in a cityscape of steel and glass and tar. He hadn't imagined he would ever get to see wood architecture. The bridge alone would have blown his mind... yet the bridge led to a world of Oak, Hickory, and stone.

  Wooden walkways spread from the initial bridge, also posted by two guards, and led into an Aztec-core fan's fantasy. Large stone buildings, bricked by insanely thick stacks of granite, supported by beams of girthy oak. The buildings built in a strange fusion of Aztec and Asian as the roofs were made of terracotta tiles that curved up at the corners, and had multiple tiers that sloped gently.

  Large oak columns supported the roof, carved in intricate displays of snarling beasts and hissing snakes. The beasts on the pillars of each house seemed to represent something, though Gareth couldn't guess at what, and Ivor seemed pretty distracted so he didn't want to bother him with the question. If he was going to live here then he would eventually find out.

  This place could really benefit from some neon hidden lights -- Gareth laughed and thought of his buddy Jackie, who would have added all the neon lights he could find. His death was just another tragedy to throw onto the pile of shit his past had been.

  Their feet lightly thunked against the wooden walkways, and Gareth couldn't help but look around in awe. Rain streamed down gutters, flutes, and flotsam floated along their small currents. All to fall into the small river channels, flowing below the wooden walkways. The buildings were built on tall stone foundations, the weirdest part being that the front door of each building was at least a story up, level with all the walking platforms.

  These people must get insane flooding -- Gareth thought.

  There weren't many people about, though Volun still seemed to be a somewhat large city so it was strange that it all seemed so calm and tranquil. No one rushed. No one jostled or yelled. People respectfully moved out of each other's way, or nodded towards each other in greeting. The people they passed weren't nearly as heavily armed or armoured as the people at the gates had been, their fashion dependent on race, gender, class, or occupation.

  As they walked on through the city, Ivor explained its layout.

  There were three sections of the city. They were currently in the outer residential district of the city. This was where most of the freelancer civilians lived. It was also the market district where there were two auction houses, one bazaar, one flea market, and numerous forms of rental housing. Ivor also hinted at another establishment, The Blushing Maiden.

  The Crystalline river, which ran through the city, divided the three sections. The southern part was the residential area, the eastern section was the farming and temple district. The north-western sections are collectively called The Grand because that was where all the permanent and prominent buildings were located.

  “Why are the farms inside the city? I thought that non-hydroponic farms need a lot of space; why would you limit yourself to the inside of the city?”

  “It could be dangerous outside these walls, especially if large amounts of food are involved. Beasts would swarm the crops, killing farmers and destroying the arable land. The farms are therefore kept inside the city where they can be protected. It is a large drain on space, but given that Volun is a frontier city, we must be self-sufficient and generate our own food.”

  The Grand likewise housed the army barracks: along with an arena, training grounds, a bank, the various guild halls, the city lord’s manor - the black keep - the mage academy, and the hospital. Of course, last but certainly never least, the city tree. Its shining respendance visible from any part of the city, and Gareth figured that if he ever got lost he could use it as a solid guide.

  Magic could be seen everywhere: In the glowing Aztec style glyphs along the sides of the path, along the supporting columns of buildings and their awnings, in the implements people used to make food and ply their trade.

  A loud clanging noise caught Gareth's attention, and he looked over to see an extremely large man with bull horns and red scales covering his skin, hammering away at a red-hot bar of metal. Both his hammer and anvil glowed with a silver light, while his quenching trough was etched in light-blue runes that danced in the ripples of water.

  Ahead, merchants called out from their stalls. Their voices were being thrown strangely, and hit his ear perfectly, as if the salesman was standing right next to him. It quickly grew overwhelming as each merchant's voice echoed into his ears.

  One merchant was particularly noisy, “D’you wanna throw fireballs like the next big archmage? Step right up and grab these Talismans of Burning!”

  Ivor didn't even spare him a glance. Gareth, knowing a 'scammer', if not so much the scam itself, likewise avoided the guy.

  Some stalls contained a range of items: rune-scribed pieces of jewellery, kitchen knives, tents, tarps, all the way to spikey fruit and vegetables.

  There weren't only stalls, but almost each building had a storefront.

  By far the most prevalent item-sort were beast parts. It broke Gareth's heart to see all the horns, scales, furs and canines on display. He valued animals deeply since most of them had died off on Terra. He resolved that he would look into the topic once he settled in. He couldn't abide poaching. Even if he had to start up animal rights in this world himself, he would do so.

  When Gareth stopped to look at one particular stall that sold swords and knives, a thin merchant eagerly hopped forward to assist him, “Welcome, young man! Finest blades in all of Volun you see before you! What are you interested in!? You look like you are unarmed, how about two long daggers and a shortsword for the esteemed gentleman?” he manoeuvred his hand behind Gareth's back and started ushering him closer to the stall.

  This wasn't Gareth's first pushy shopkeeper, but just as he was about to push the man away, Ivor suddenly appeared. He ripped the man’s hand away and settled a fierce pair of green eyes on the man.

  “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  Ivor stared into the man's eyes, conveying a threatening intensity that left the guy pale and sweating.

  “Of course, Senior.” He quivered slightly and bowed low. The merchant seemed well-kempt, but had a shiftiness to his eyes that made Gareth weary, nevermind his pushiness.

  Ivor quietly whispered to him, “These outer stalls sell nothing but trash and tricks for the innocent and naive. Those blades would have broken after the first swing. This one will teach you of such tricks but for now we must make our way towards the lord’s manor to report in.”

  He continued forward and Gareth obediently followed, reminded once again that he was in a new world, with a new culture, and that he should prioritise listening and learning over talking and participation.

  They didn't just pass humans, but other fantasy races like Elves, Dwarves, and beastkin. Of course, those were the general builds, but Ivor told him the Elves were referred to as Kreppinfay, the Dwarves were from Gloryhammer clan, and the beastkin were either body cultivators that looked like beastkin, or Cloud people that were actually beastkin.

  The Kreppinfay resembled the typical elves, in that they were normally tall, scrawny and graceful. Many had pointed ears of varying lengths, high cheekbones that accentuated slitted, oval or round pupils. Their complexion was often dark and purple-ish, but this was not the rule as some were more pale purple, while others were straight-up pitch purple.

  This was when Ivor slapped him rudely on his shoulder, and drew his attention, “It is not nice to stare.”

  Ivor’s expressive eyes admonished Gareth but did not tell of anger, just disappointment - which is fuckin’ worse. He spent the rest of their trip keeping to himself.

  “I hope this is not rude to ask but, why are people so diverse here? Where I come from people could look unique from chrome or cosmetics but the differences are minor. I just saw a lady with blue fur while her child was hairless, yet had slitted eyes.”

  “I am not familiar with this... Chrome? If you are referring to the large range of phenotypes present, it is because of their cultivation. Each path of cultivation impacts the physical form of a person - none more so than Body cultivation - as it focuses on unlocking bloodlines. At base, a person will unlock ten bloodlines - one for each body part - but the common bloodlines are often from the same creature type. An example would be that gentleman over there.” he said and pointed to an elf haggling with a fruit stand merchant, “He likely unlocked a lizard bloodline, judging on his round pupils, scaled face, and horned ears, but then he perhaps unlocked a monkey bloodline later on, judging by his tail.”

  “Will I grow a tail and things like that as well?” Gareth couldn't quite hide his alarm. He was by no means vain but didn't want to grow weird body parts.

  “It is entirely possible if you choose to pursue Body cultivation. But do not despair; these expressions of your bloodline can be suppressed and withdrawn with practice. It is just that few people bother because no-one truly cares…Except the nobility. It is more trouble to learn than to just learn to live around it.

  “If you wish to avoid cosmetic changes, then Elemental or Qi cultivation might be the path for you. They might experience colour changes in their skin, eyes, hair, or really any body part, but do not tend to sprout limbs.”

  Each region in the empire leant itself towards one form of cultivation or another, based on the cultivation materials available to them. Volun was a frontier city that had an overabundance of beasts, meaning Body cultivators could make use of their cores to cultivate relatively cheaply. It was also an area steeped in Water and Air mana, which made it a haven for Elemental Core cultivators of those elements, but a bane for those with Fire or Earth cultivation.

  It was a lot to take in and after a while Gareth just kept his head down and followed Ivor to avoid having a panic attack. It was just so much to look at, there were so many sounds, smells, sensations and thoughts that Gareth felt overwhelmed and overstimulated after years of sensory deprivation.

  After little less than an hour of walking down one walkway or another, they reached another massive wooden bridge that spanned a relatively narrow, but insanely fast-flowing river to the farming and temple district.

  Six guards in thick heavy-plate armour, wielding immense halberds, all inlaid with glowing glyphs, stood sentinel on either side of the bridge.

  This bridge was almost an exact copy of the previous, but differed crucially in the type of water it spanned. The previous body of water had been pond-like, with water lilies, large frog-thrones -- or whatever those are called -- and leaping coy. This bridge crossed a raging torrent of water that nearly deafened them. Apparently there was some weird magic fuckery about, because he could only hear the raging water while on the bridge, not before.

  A sound dampening enchantment perhaps? -- Gareth's source of magic knowledge lay in all the nerdy reels his younger brothe-

  He couldn't finish the thought, the pain was still too deep.

  The space rapidly opened up after the bridge and fields of crops spread off to the right. A strange wall of clouds and storms obscured the land to the left, though the clearly supernatural phenomenon only appeared to be five stories high, then it randomly cut off.

  Gareth pointed to the strange phenomenon and asked what that was.

  "That is the temple of the storm god, Neoborg."

  "Why is it s-storming…like… that?" Gareth trailed off as he finished his sentence.

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  Even Gareth was disappointed by his question.

  Ivor looked at Gareth like he was stupid, but the smile on his lips took the sting out of it, "Because he is the god of storms."

  Ivor had this remarkable ability to answer questions that explained nothing by pointing out the obvious, how does a bee fly? It has wings. Why does fire burn? Because it's hot.

  I wonder how I should phrase a question so as to actually get an answer?

  Accepting that shitty responses were all he was going to get, Gareth looked at the strange plants growing in rich dark soil, about 20 feet below the platform they were walking along. The wood platforms they were walking on were now much lower to the ground, only a few feet. The farms to the right were terraced, like rice fields, but held crops entirely alien to Gareth, who had grown up on packaged food. Even given his lacking knowledge of farming, even he knew these plants looked weird. Very few of them were actually green, many having blue or purple bark and leaves. He already knew corn didn't have bark, so whatever they were harvesting had to be a fruit, right?

  Half a mile later, the storm wall next to them abruptly dropped away to reveal a nicely manicured grass lawn. The water constantly raining down somehow seemed like a gentle drizzle within the temple’s boundary. It was weird. Sporadically placed across the lawn were small marble gazebos with brass fire pits at their centres. In the middle of the expansive lawn stood a very large golden domed white marble building. Basically just an upscale version of the marble gazebo, but with walls and large arched mosaic glass windows. The place seemed even stranger when Gareth noticed that it was eerily empty of people.

  Gareth was about to ask what this place was but Ivor beat him to it, "This is the temple of Shaevalur, goddess of life, light, and prosperity."

  The way Ivor had said it, along with all of the curt answers Gareth had been getting all day made Gareth worried, Is Ivor mad at me?

  Not one to pussyfoot about he asked, "Ivor, are you mad at me?"

  After doing a double-take, Ivor closely looked at Gareth, intensely studying his face, before looking down and sighing.

  -

  "This one is not angry with you…” he sighed deeply and rubbed at his forehead, “This one is simply deep in thought as to how I should approach the oncoming report to my lord. Should I tell them about your ability, or keep it secret? Both-" Ivor stopped himself talking but continued thinking through his options:

  Both choices pose considerable risk to us both. Should I trust that the city lord will be able to handle the situation appropriately? He is a wise and compassionate leader, but would he see the opportunity and dangers Gareth presents, and come the correct decision?

  He could not let his doubts be known to Gareth, who already seemed to struggle with trust. To be better, he must first give trust, just as Gareth had shown trust in him when they were on the cliff. He would have to do the same. Trust in his patriarch, his City Lord to make the right decision.

  "I cannot know how my Lord will react to you, Gareth. But I trust his wisdom, his level head, and his integrity.”

  -

  To be perfectly honest, Gareth was about two seconds away from trying to bolt, since Ivor had as much as told him the city lord could turn on him. He had no clue what Ivor’s true angle might be, nor what this city lord might do. The uncertainty plagued Gareth because he didn't want to be in danger again. He was expecting rainbows and sunshine from here on out. He'd been hoping for it, at least. He felt his walls go up, felt himself distancing himself from Ivor. He had to look at this critically. He had to look at Ivor not as the saviour he represented, but as the man he was.

  Gareth ultimately had very little choice in the matter.

  It was blatantly obvious he was out of his depth, and would need outside help to establish himself.

  Besides, where would I go? Ian is actively looking for me, and would have an easier time of it if I was alone. Safety in numbers and all that.

  Ivor had at least shown that he wasn't with Ian, and after more than a month with him, Gareth trusted him about as much as he likely ever would trust someone - which was to say: not much.

  He decided he would employ his old strategy: show compliance but milk them for all they would give.

  *Sigh “Fine, I will trust you, Ivor. But if you betray me I will hound you until the end of time. And we both know I can keep up with that timeline.”

  Ivor had noted Gareth's immortality with nonchalance once he'd woken up from his fall down the cliff. Ivor knew Gareth shouldn't have survived that fall, Gareth knew it, so when Ivor had asked, Gareth had confirmed it. Then they moved on. It hadn't been a massive thing. Ivor likely had some thoughts, and that's why Gareth was so hesitant to trust him completely. They were both still somewhat avoiding the topic, though each for entirely different reasons.

  “Do you trust your leader?” Gareth finally asked after Ivor had remained silent. His green eyes searching Gareth’s blue for who-knows-what?

  “With this one’s life.” His thin lips were set somberly. His dark brows slightly furrowed in sincerity, not anger.

  “Then I’ll meet him, and you can tell him my secret. But I am going out on a limb here, Ivor. If you betray me, I might never trust humanity again.”

  His voice was laced with a glass blade's edge of fragility, his sandy coloured eyebrows arched with warning. He was strong to have maintained his sanity for this long, but even mountains crumbled.

  “This one understands.” Ivor bowed deeply, his tail tight against his legs. When he rose, he did so with confidence and a tender smile, “Come. He is expecting us.”

  “How do you know?” Gareth asked and flicked his scruffy chin.

  “We have been tailed since we entered the city. My lord does not have spies so poor as to be noticed. This means my lord is sending a message by allowing this fool to run around and tail us. He is telling us to come to him boldly and out in the open in order for him to track down the spy’s informant.”

  “This lord of yours sounds pretty hard-core.”

  Ivor frowned briefly, hints of wrinkles lining his forehead, but they set off before Gareth could ask about it.

  Farm fields passing on the right, and manicured pagoda'ed lawns on the left. Eventually ,they made a left turn, now flanked on the left by Shaevalur's temple and on the right by a very tall hedge wall.

  Without prompting, Ivor explained, "This is Shekaron's labyrinth. Do not, under any circumstance, enter its depths."

  Between one blink and the next, the seamless hedge wall suddenly had a doorway.

  Gareth startled a step back, his blue eyes wide with surprise, and pointed at the new door-sized opening, "It just opened!"

  "Yes. Always remember, the labyrinth wants you to enter. And those that step inside very rarely return. It is tantamount to a death sentence."

  "Why would you allow such a dangerous thing inside the city? What if a kid runs inside?" Incredulity caused a rather...unmanly falsetto in Gareth's voice, but his fierce frown raised his manliness meter in the other direction.

  "Then that child is doomed. We do not allow it any more than you would allow a mold or fungus to grow on a log. If enough people congregate in a settlement, it will appear. It can be safely situated by designating an area inside your city as Shekaron's temple. Then it will either appear in the temple's undercroft, or in this case, the temple's hedge garden."

  "I've seen some of the impressive things you can do, couldn't people just burn it down?" Gareth's question caused the hedge to sprout thorns and writher with displeasure. As if the vines had come alive. It seemed angry at Gareth's question.

  Gulping visibly, Ivor hastily and lightly cuffed him on the back of the head, throwing the hedge alarmed looks, "We value it because those that do manage to return do so bedecked in treasure power and knowledge the envy of all. You risk your life but could gain a lifetime's worth of power. It is also the temple of one of our gods and this one would ask that you respect said temple."

  "Oh shi-! Yes! I am so sorry! It's a good hedge maze that looks very nice and well trimmed." Both of them complementing it seemed to calm the hedge, and it stilled once again, its wickedly hooked thorns retracting back into the thick vines. Yet the break in its wall kept pace with them as they walked...ever welcoming.

  They both decided that it was best to stop talking until they had passed the sentient hedge.

  A while later they reached another large wooden bridge, guarded on either side by ten heavily armoured guards. They passed by unobstructed and both of them sighed a heavy breath of relief.

  "Always…always, assume the gods are listening. Especially right next to their temples."

  "Yeah that was pretty intense."

  "Yes…intense. Moving along swiftly. The Grand district is ahead."

  The Volun city tree was immense, so much so that it loomed over a large majority of the small city. It would have shaded a large section of the Grand in darkness if it didn't gently glow with billions of sparkly lights. Not to say there were man-made lights installed, but the needle-like, lightbulb-like leaves glowed with emerald greens, golden yellows, sapphire blues and amber browns.

  "Why do the leaves glow?" Gareth asked in a low mumble, struck dumb with its beauty. Like a cat staring at a laser dot.

  "City trees absorbs ambient mana from the air of Heaven and the leylines of the Earth. It stores this mana in its leaves and roots, hence the glow."

  Ivor, watching Gareth from the corner of his eye, sighed as he realised just how much catching up this sapling had to do. He looked like an adult, people would expect him to have the knowledge of an adult, and would immediately realise something was different if he didn’t know the basics.

  "The leaves are dissimilar because they come from a different tree. Just like a spruce is different from a pine."

  Gareth nodded, "Makes sense. So there are more trees out there? Are some types of leaves more valuable than others?"

  “To survive en-masse, cities need city trees. Elsewise beast hordes, rifts, and labyrinths would come, tempted by a snack; such as a city full of cultivators. The trees protect us from them all. To answer your second question: It depends on the elemental alignment of the tree.” Seeing him frown, Ivor continued, “A Fire cultivator would cherish a Fire leaf much more in Volun because it is scarce. Whereas Water leaves, Air leaves, and Light leaves are dirt common; therefore cheap. It also depends on the tier of the leaf, as higher tier trees and their leaves can hold more mana of a higher quality.”

  Gareth nodded tiredly, his eyes beginning to droop from all the stimulation while his body was so weak. They pushed on. The buildings in the Grand diverged slightly from those closer to the entrance of the city. They had been heading steadily uphill, and now that they were higher up the buildings were instead nice and flush with the ground, storm drains diverting the heavy flow of rain. They also changed from small-ish homesteads and shops to large centres of business or fancy-shmancy mansions.

  They passed a large palatial building on the right, five stories tall with plenty of windows facing the road. Comfortable yellow light spilled from inside, revealing a fuckton of bustling corpo cunts. They had the swaggering arrogance, the overly formal togas and square hats of officials, and the smarmy air of snobbish superiority...of a banker.

  Grey granite steps led up to a grand pair of granite, bronze engraved double doors, depicting scenes that were too fine to make out from this distance. It took up a block all by itself.

  “The bank and commercial building”, Ivor confirmed with a flick of his tail.

  Cunts one and all -- Gareth laughed bitterly.

  There were large spaces between the various buildings, either filled with manicured gardens, art pieces, statues or a few small shops selling food or drinks.

  They passed many other buildings but Gareth didn't have time to look too closely as they took another left. The building opposite the intersection was a very tasteful clean white marble victorian three story villa. The T-intersection left turn went in the direction of the city gate they had come through, and away from all the other massive buildings he could see further down the broad lane. The right turn led to the city tree base and to some truly massive buildings.

  "Why did we take such a roundabout route, only to go back in the direction we came from?"

  Ivor pointed at the stone path ahead, flanked on either side by normal, non-titanic pine trees.

  "The city experienced a lot of combat and fighting in its early days. You will therefore find that it is laid out in a very defensible manner. There is only one road that connects the Grand to the entrance of the city, and any invading horde or army has to travel all the way through the entirety of the city, or fight our most powerful fighter (the city lord) to reach the tree. You noticed the large body of water right outside the gate?"

  "Yeah? It didn't look very deep."

  "Exactly, it is relatively shallow, but covers a large area. Should the gate fall, the sluices keeping the Crystalline river from that section will be opened, and the bridge will collapse. Then it will be like blasting fish in a barrel, as the enemies fall into the suddenly very deep and very turbulent waters. The outer districts are built on pillars so that anyone trying to wade through the rushing water beneath the walkways will struggle. If they were foolish enough to travel along our paths, then they will have to fight through all of our defenders. And those are only a few of the many strategies the city can employ for its defence."

  "But can't people just fly over the river?" Gareth asked and pointed at the people flying between the branches of the city tree.

  "They may try, but there are anit-flight wards and enchantments in place to keep them grounded. We also have griffon riders that would take them out of the sky. Not only this, but the biggest dangers we face are beast waves, not overly intelligent people."

  Gareth couldn't help but notice the pride with which Ivor spoke, the way he referred to Volun's defences as 'our' defences. He really loved this place.

  “Now, we are approaching the manor. Until this one directs otherwise, you must be silent. We cannot allow anyone to realise your ignorance until you are ready."

  Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, Gareth only nodded and kept his mouth shut.

  Fuck! I’ve already forgotten that we are being followed by someone, and here I am, gawking at shit like a brand new schmuck.

  For about a mile they just passed trees on either side of the path, untamed and overgrown by all appearances. It was strangely dark within its depths, contrasted by a city that had been well-lit until this point. The drizzling rain and gentle breeze just added to the spooky gothic atmosphere. Little red riding hood woods.

  The five storey fort/castle they approached had large granite walls lit with blue torches, and manned by lightly heavily armoured guards.

  They passed through a wrought iron gate that was decorated the house crest: with metallic flowers, vines, and thorns.

  A guard who stopped them at the gatehouse, "First ranger Ivor Hansen, you are expected." His voice was stern and cautious, slightly echoing because of the full cover metal helm he wore.

  "I have news, but only for the city lord's ear." Ivor Hansen replied crisply.

  He looked both of them up and down, or at least, his helmet scanned them up and down, "Your jade slip?" He held out his gauntleted hand.

  Ivor happily handed over his, but before the guard could ask for Gareth's he said, "This young one is new to the empire and has not yet received his slip. Until he does, this one will vouch for him."

  The hard-jawed guard narrowed his eyes as he tapped Ivor's slip, "This is most peculiar, Ivor Hansen. This one hopes you understand that we will allow you entree…but only with an armed escort?" He he tilted his head, as if daring Ivor to object.

  Ivor only bowed lightly, "This one would expect nothing less."

  So they were ushered through, the large gates opening on smoothly oiled hinges.

  Three guards left the gatehouse to escort them up the grey brick driveway, to a manor that looked more like a fortress than any luxurious mansion. It was made up of large blocks of stone, had small slitted windows filled with deck prisms: basically a prism of glass that projects more natural light into the interior, he’d seen some on a history channel once.

  Crenellations on top of the walls allowed for defensible firing positions, and gave a very castle-y vibe.

  The granite brick path led to the portes-cochére, this likewise done in a rich black and white speckled granite, blue torches lighting the space. Mistress Connolly often had Gareth break into fancy apartments, and as a professional interest he'd picked up architecture, so as to be better at his job. At least, that's what he told himself.

  Their escort consisted of three heavily armoured guards clunking in front and behind them. They were ushered through a nondescript side entrance. Here, they were instructed to take off their muddy boots, and given soft slippers…even the guards. This made them look silly but the moment he saw the thick red carpet they needed to walk on, Gareth understood the need…but nevertheless noted that he could step on their toes to hurt them in a fight.

  They were led through very grand hallways: lined with paintings, potted plants, and small tables. It was lit with comforting yellow mage lights that gave off no smoke, and gave the rich reds and ivy green walls a homey, comforting atmosphere.

  They made multiple turns, went up two polished wooden staircases, and finally arrived in front of a deep dark wood door. Their escort knocked once and stepped to the side.

  "Come." A gravelly base voice barked from inside.