I am lost in thought for the entirety of the trip back to Corinth's penthouse in the city. The ache in my eye won't disappear, and a strange anxiousness to sleep comes over me as I travel along the moving walkways beneath the city. The idea of finding a money changer to turn what is left of my currency into something more usable in the city is attractive, but the late hour pushes that aside for now. Besides, all of the gold that I have remaining is currently being used as a medium for my black sand. After paying Lady Talagast, more than half of my money is gone. Back in Gale, I could have purchased most of the lands I grew up in for the sum I paid that woman, if I were elven, of course. How long will I be able to last here?

While the underground is certainly pungent, the moving walkways regularly let out into terminals where traffickers can change their routes through the city. These terminals are filled with all different manner of shops and always at least two different people selling items out of wheeled carts. More than any of that, however, are places to purchase food of an incredible variety. The food is sold not in restaurants, for even the nicest of the shops only have a table or two that are always occupied, but neither are they simple carts. They are something I have never seen before, kitchens set into the walls themselves with a simple serving counter where people order their food before walking off with it. This city is a strange place.

The air in these terminals always smells of exotic spice and cooked meat, and is enough to set my mouth to watering. The idea of holding my breath between terminals to not have to smell the musty underground air comes to me as a joke. Remarkably, I find myself entirely capable of performing the feat without much stress at all.

By the time that I make it back to the penthouse, I have become more acquainted with the signs. It isn't that I can read any of them with any form of consistency. Most of the street signs appear to be named after people, given that a translation doesn't appear in my book, but over the past year, I have discovered an incredible knack for memorization. Usually, I only need to see a thing once to be able to recall it with near-perfect clarity.

The aroma of a kitchen in use greets me as I open the door, the smell of crisping onions and stewing beef in the air. I follow my nose to the kitchen, finding Dovik standing over a stewpot, stirring with a wooden spoon.

"You're back," he says, looking over his shoulder at me.

"I am." I take in the kitchen as I walk over to the stovetop where he labors. It is of a fair size, almost as large as the one back home. On the wall, steel pots and pans hang from hooks, each looking so new that I might imagine they are unused. A central island dominates the space, upon which are strewn chopped vegetables and some leftover fatty cuts of meat.

"You left the best parts out," I say, pointing at the remains on the counter.

Dovik frowns. "I hate chewing on that. Not really sure what I am doing here, if I am being honest. I thought preparing something might be nice, but then I realized that I haven't ever cooked all that much. Stew seemed easy, just chop up some ingredients and throw them in the pot."

"That is the general idea," I agree. I find a spice rack in one of the cabinets hanging from the wall. Given that all of the labels are written in the strange scrawl I have seen all over the city, I have to pick out ingredients by sight to hand to Dovik. He takes them without complaint, adding pinches to the stew at my direction.

As the concoction reaches a decent stopping point, it begins to occur to me that I haven't eaten a meal like this in a long time. At the manor in Danfalla, there were cooks to prepare meals at all times of the day, but that isn't the same as a home-cooked meal, at least not to me. It has been since I left my parents' orchard that I have had anything prepared in a cozy kitchen. That seems like so long ago now.

Corinth appears in the kitchen as we begin ladling out the bowls. My brother's hair stands on end on the right side of his head, and he blinks away sleep, stifling a yawn. Not much is said as we sit to eat, each of us digging in hungrily to the warm stew. All I've had to eat today is a cup of fruit, and I only realize how hungry I am once I've started eating. The stew tastes far better than it really is. While the two men at the small table speak idly about the extravagances of the city, my mind snags on the taste.

I can't help but wonder if someone out there cooks with magical ingredients, ingredients designed to tickle the magical senses like the one I have been developing over the last few months. It's doubtful. From what I understand, not everyone who reaches the required threshold to start detecting magic encounters it as a form of taste like I do. If I even tried to cook with ingredients like that, I would likely end up poisoning myself. Then again, given that I shrugged off that poisonous piece of fruit earlier in the day, I wonder what exactly my tolerance for poison is now.

After several bowls of the stew, each less tasty than the last, Corinth shows us his icebox. It is a white chest disguised as a cabinet that has an icy cold interior, all without any ice being used. He explains that they are a common appliance in Faeth. Again, I am struck by the subtle extravagance of this city as we store the rest of the stew inside.

Corinth leads us on a half-hearted tour of the penthouse as we make our way to the lounging room. Several sofas languish inside, each of a different make and comfort level. The only two matching pairs are a set of white and black pieces left facing a game table, while two others of different leathers face out toward the balcony. The balcony itself houses a dead fern plant in a blue pot and a view of the city that goes on for miles, facing out toward the West. Though, from what Corinth quickly tells me, that can change, as Faeth is prone to turning in different directions as it slowly drifts across the world.

Stolen story; please report.

The boys relax to a game of shears at the table while I drop onto one of the sofas overlooking the city. Thoughts buzz through my head, information about the city that I learned today, and things that I need to look forward to in the future. Still, there is a persistent ache in my eye. I want to try and reach out to Galea right away, but I don't dare for fear of causing her further harm. It is just a few more hours. Just a few more hours, and I will know if she is okay.

Lying back on the sofa, something on the side table crinkles as my shoulder rolls over it. I turn, finding a green paper bag left discarded on the table. Inside are four books, each relatively thin, still with the smell of new print. I sneak a peek at the topmost while the two men are distracted with their game. The cover reads, "Disciplines of Magic: A Guide to Suitable Exploration." It doesn't take a genius to figure that Dovik grabbed these when out earlier, and I begin to form a suspicion as to why.

The book brings to mind my own need to study, and a short trip to my new laboratory later, I have one of the more advanced enchantment guides handy. I have attempted a thorough read of the tome before. Each time as I reach the chapter describing empowered phonics, the concepts begin to escape my grasp. This time, I force myself to read on, hoping that repetition will somehow make the concepts stick.

"Charlene," Corinth calls.

My head snaps up, finding him standing a few feet away at the edge of the couch. Then I recall him having called for me a few times, only now recognizing that fact.

"Yes?" I say, folding the corner of the page to mark my place as I close the book.

He nods his head to the side, indicating me to notice the window. I see what he is after immediately. "You almost missed it," he says. "It is the best when Faeth is facing this direction."

Far, far away, in a corridor created between two towering buildings, I can just make out the edge of the emerald wall. There, the sun meets with the dwarven-made horizon, the entire edge of crystal seeming to come alive with its brilliance. A rainbow cascade of light is thrown off as the burning orb begins to sink past the top of the wall, creating a sunset of brilliant green and blue. Before the sun can fully sink away to bathe the city in the shadow of night, a cloud passes in front of it, stealing away the final moments.

Corinth tsks. "You'll see a better one," he promises. "Here." Stepping toward me, he holds out a circular wafer made of white clay.

A tad confused, I take it from him, turning it over in my hand. "Thanks?"

"I realized after finding you in Danfalla that it was a bit irresponsible of me not to give you a way of getting in contact. That is a device that will allow you to get my notice. If you break it, I will be alerted. I should be able to come directly to this penthouse now, even though the field surrounding the city, so if you need my help, do not hesitate to call on me."

"But I can only use it once," I say, running my thumb along the surface.

"Right," he agrees. "So, keep it to emergencies, if you can help it. I hate to run off so quickly, but some things require my attention that I really do need to get to. In the next year, I will make certain to visit the Maw Under the Waves so that when you have finished your studies here, I can ferry you directly to the entrance of Tabriss. Until then, feel free to use the penthouse however you choose. Just try not to burn it down. It is a very expensive property."

"I thought you said you won it in a bet," Dovik says from the gaming table.

"That doesn't make it less expensive," Corinth responds.

"I'll try not to burn it down," I say, putting the magical wafer aside and standing.

Corinth blows air through his lips, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Other than that, I left a chest of funds on the table alongside my letter of recommendation for your entrance into the academy. There is also a list of places that you might want to visit while you are here, some stores I know that sell equipment you will need, and…"

His words die as I step forward and wrap him in a hug. He chuckles to himself, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and squeezing me back.

"Thank you," I whisper to him.

"Of course," he says. Then he pauses. "You're staring at the money, aren't you?"

He caught me. Ever since he mentioned it, I haven't been able to take my eyes off the iron chest sitting on the table. He laughs again, patting me on the back before breaking the embrace.

"I've become a bit worried about our funds," I confess. "The price Lady Talagast charged me was incredible."

"The bigger the city, the more expensive things become. That is one of the few hard rules I have discovered over the years." He laughs again as I bite my lip. "I won't keep you from your treasure any longer."

I give him another hug before stepping away. "Don't be gone so long this time," he says.

"Oh, I won't be."

"I'll see you out, I suppose," Dovik says.

Corinth leads the way out onto the balcony, Dovik joining him a moment after. I watch through the glass as my brother begins to conjure a piece of spellcraft above his open palm while they talk. After granting my brother five whole seconds of bittersweet farewell gazing, the chest on the table pulls my attention away. Taking a seat and flipping it open, I find the box filled with yellow and green coins, a few blue ones among them. A moment later and my ledger is open on the table next to me as I jot down the figures of our new budget.

I hope this will be enough. Lasting an entire year in a city this expensive probably won't be easy, but I was told today that there is an adventurer's hall in the city somewhere. As a silver-rank adventurer, surely I can find a way to make some coin if we need it. Without noticing, I begin to estimate the prices of various enchanting equipment. With what I have discovered today, I have finally begun to see the road ahead, begun to piece together the kind of enchanter that I want to become. It won't be cheap, and I doubt it will be easy, but after Danfalla, how hard can it really be?

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