60th of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd imperial era

"Opportunities always come with a certain risk." Newt said after collecting himself.

The words were hollow. When you heard the stories, the risk always happened to others and they survived, making it a gripping adventure, but a part of him knew that was survivorship bias. Those who died lacked the ability to tell tales.

If someone fell fighting a monster as a part of a team, their death would weaken the rest of the team, and more deaths would follow, more often than not cascading into a complete annihilation. The only thing left behind those who perished were the "treasures" others would pick up, and a written record of a fallen party in their headquarters, a forgotten document, collecting dust before rotting away entirely.

"Knowing and experiencing it are two different things." Obsidian's voice trembled. It sounded almost all right, with only a hint of fear, and yet that hint rang louder than a bell in Newt's ear. "People think it's easy. They are like 'We're immortal, nothing can happen to us' or 'We're careful, accidents only happen to fools who rush headlong', but it can happen to anyone. One tiny slip, one misstep, and it's all over."

Obsidian smiled, but the fake mirth was gone, replaced by dejection, guilt, and something more, something outside Newt's ability to grasp.

The situation had turned awkward. Newt wanted to say something, but didn't know what exactly. In the end, he drew a breath and spoke from the heart.

"Obsidian." Newt placed a hand on the man's upper arm, noting it was as tough as rock, despite him being merely a mage. "You need to let go. What happened is not your fault. It's nobody's fault. I think your friend expected he would survive the blow or dodge. He wanted to save his girlfriend, not to kill himself. And even if he expected he would die, I don't think he wanted you to waste away and crumble under the weight of your heart demons. What would he say if he saw you guys today?"

Wow! Where did that come from? It sounded good. Newt's thoughts wandered towards Stronggrow and Dandelion, finding a lot of their influence in the speech he had just delivered.

"The soother said the same thing." Obsidian mumbled, but it was obvious he needed to spend some time alone.

Newt nodded, considering whether he should say anything more. In the end, he promised he would do everything in his power to help with Jasmine and Roselilly, and left Obsidian to find the Chamber of Runes or the Chamber of Beasts.

All is well. I can do this. Just pretend you are someone who can get things done and do what they would do.

Newt walked down the paved road and reached the crossroads, already growing numb to the beauty and the melodious chatter of the surrounding tropical forest. He reached a fork and looked around.

To his left stood two lines of identical single-story houses made of stone. Like the buildings, most of their gardens were identical, with several notable exceptions. One in the distance looked like a junkyard full of wooden debris, another had a shack with smoke coming out of it, while two others had replaced the identical layout of flowers with their custom ones. Three houses away, a blue-crested bihorn slept on the lawn, basking in the sunlight. Newt focused on the diminutive saurian and saw it was in the same realm as he was. The creature yawned, opening its beak-like mouth, its tongue sticking out, before it went back to sleep.

Wow! Someone has a beast companion! It was obvious the small guy was not a mount, and given the watery aura, it could almost certainly heal its owner. Newt scrutinized the other yards, but saw no other manabeasts. He counted exactly two hundred residences and wondered whether the ones with uniform gardens were empty before his gaze drifted back to the bihorn.

Wait, having a water-aligned snake that can heal, or an air aligned one that can scout could be incredibly useful. Especially since we can understand each other.

The thought intrigued Newt, and he decided to seriously entertain it later as he turned around to check out the other path.

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Unlike the one leading towards the residential area, the other passed through a longer stretch of jungle with two large buildings peeking out, one on each side of the road. Newt walked towards them, and as he drew closer and the jungle grew thinner, he spotted there were more large buildings in the distance.

The nearest two had gilded letters, nearly as tall as he was, denoting them as Chamber of Commerce and Chamber of Punishment. The buildings were impressive, and while they were identical, made of the same smooth stone as the rest of the structures Newt had seen so far, he immediately found a difference.

The Chamber of Commerce had a large warehouse behind the main building, while the Chamber of Punishment stood on its own. The building was just as bright, and with just as many window openings as the Chamber of Commerce, yet it radiated a stern, oppressive air rather than a welcoming one.

Newt strained his mindcore, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, even though his gut was telling him that the difference lay in the runic wards surrounding the two buildings. He didn't believe a building by itself could make him feel the need to enter, nor the desire to stay away from it.

Newt continued down the path, walking another hundred yards, past the neatly trimmed bushes and brightly colored flowers, until he reached the next two buildings; the Chamber of Pots and the Chamber of Forges. The buildings had identical architecture to the first two, but the surrounding complexes were much bigger than the one around the Chamber of Commerce.

Instead of a forest or warehouses, next to the Chamber of Forges stood several dozen blacksmith workshops, smoke rising from a third of them. But just as it hit the uppermost layers of the jungle canopy, some sixty feet off the ground, the smoke disappeared. Another runic seal, but Newt could see neither the runic array nor the sign of mana movement as the spell formation captured or canceled the smoke in some way. Somehow, the seal scribe who had made them obscured the irregular flow of mana.

Newt was intrigued and impressed with the effect. Even though he was mere yards away, he smelled neither the smoke, nor the herbs, which alchemists must have been using in their work. Newt then focused on the unfortunately named division.

The Chamber of Pots had several domed gardens, one of which overflowed with snow. Then there was a large warehouse-like building, which they used for storage or for crafting. Possibly both, but Newt's interest in alchemy amounted to a passing curiosity and a perpetual need for potions.

The next two buildings were the Chamber of Runes and the Chamber of Tomes, which Newt guessed was the impressively labeled library.

I bet Dandelion would spend years there if he got the chance. Newt eyed the library and the two youths entering it, thinking that it was about time he started reading and exploring the possibilities of what world had to offer beside his own conclusions and Dandelion's suggestions.

He sighed. He really didn't feel like sitting in a stuffy room, studying tomes which may or may not be useful to him, waiting to get lucky.

Do I really need inspiration from others when I have already started on the path of shaping my realm into a giant two-element constellation of runic seals?

Newt wanted to believe he was confident, but a part of him knew he was just being lazy. He was too young, too much in a hurry to just sit in a library for years, contemplating the perfect way to develop his realm. Dandelion had tried to explain the importance of patience and taking his time, but Newt was simply too inexperienced to understand what a man ten times older than him was saying.

He huffed in frustration and headed for the Chamber of Runes. The stone walls with empty, black openings made for a strange sight. Newt understood the windows and doors were that way for privacy, but it still looked weird.

Newt looked at the doorway, which resembled a gaping maw of the void but as Newt walked through it, he caught sight of dozens of invisible runes inside, revealed by the sunlight before disappearing as he stepped fully into the building.

He yearned to move in and out over and over again, to stare at the seals, but the woman standing behind a tall desk had set her eyes on him. Newt passed the threshold, and the sounds and smells of the jungle disappeared. The overly humid air became pleasantly dry, and the temperature dropped below what Newt perceived as pleasant.

"Good day—" The wiry woman in Explorer's Gate uniform glanced above Newt, her eyes moving in the unnaturally quick manner of higher realm mages, whose bodies had trouble catching up with their minds. "—Sir, what may I do for you?"

Newt looked up and saw "Inner" written above the door.

"How did the door know I'm an inner student?"

"It registered your token, Sir. Do you require specific seals scribed for you or are you looking to purchase pre-made talismans?" The brown-haired clerk listed the most usual services her division provided with a fake cheery smile.

"I am Newstar, I'm an independent seal scribe—" What's his name, what's his name? Did that old clerk give me his name at all? Nevermind. "I've just joined, and the old clerk who admitted me told me to come here and find a mentor."

The wiry brunette's smile grew more genuine. "An independent joining all of a sudden is unusual. Give me a minute. I'll check with the chaplain."

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