A scholar stood at the threshold in blue robes, a leatherbound book in one hand and a quill in the other.

Radeon recognized the cut of those sleeves. He still remembered the weight of them from the years when he wore the same colors.

Everwritten Archivists Court.

The scholar lifted his chin and let his voice carry.

"If I might have your attention. I serve as a scholar of the Everwritten Archivists Court. The rules will be given as they stand. I will add nothing to them, and dispute no point with invention, unless both you and I care to provoke the city's proprietor."

He offered no flattery, only instruction, as though he meant to spare them trouble rather than win their favor.

He did not shout. He did not need to. The crowd quieted anyway.

"First. No vandalism. No loitering. Do not leave valuables unattended. Should you mislay something, do not expect restitution. This establishment operates under the auspices of the Ossuary Necropolis Court."

Most mortals did not know the name well enough to fear it. The cultivators did. A ripple passed through them like cold water poured down the spine. Murmurs bloomed at the edges, quick and hungry.

"Run by dead folk, then? By bones that walk? Venerables save us. Wouldn't that scare the day clean out of a body?"

"Shush. Mind your tongue. Likely not. Who'd spend a penny in a stall kept by skulls?"

"Maybe that's why you should spend it here. I heard tell they were the hardest lot, some years back. No one dared cross the sect. Even the Skyflight Sword Court bunch."

Words ran faster than people. Those with mouths carried the rumor to friends. Those with hearts sent it to family.

Even the ones who could read and write chose to stay, uneasy at the thought of leaving when something too profound to ignore might be written on the walls. Instinct tugged harder than trusty ones own knowledge.

The scholar cleared his throat, a small cough that snapped the crowd back to him.

"Second. Each establishment within the city maintains its own ordinances. Should any of you be unable to read, ask a staff member. They will recite the rules to you."

He watched faces tilt upward, eyes fixed, ears straining.

"Third. Any who make trouble shall be answered at once. There will be no long hearing, no delay. The penalty may be a day's loss of inner energy. Or it may be your life. You have been warned."

He lowered his gaze to the last line, squinting as if it were not a rule at all but a message left by a hand that did not care to explain itself.

"To all who would enter this city is under constant watching by scrying and by divination, and by grandmasters of both arts. Should guilt be established, the evidence will be produced."

That last promise landed like a lock clicking shut. Merchants straightened, suddenly bright eyed, as if someone had offered them a second pillow at home and sworn no thief could touch either.

Even the young masters, always eager to test a place for weakness, looked pleased.

The serious cultivators only stared, curiosity pricked raw. Three copper coins was nothing. You could not buy more than a loaf of stale bread for such a paltry amount.

The scholar was admitted first. The moment he stepped through, he drew in a breath and paused.

The air inside tasted clean. Fresher than the road. Fresher than the market smoke that clung to clothes and tongues.

The next visitor followed and blinked, breathing deep as if he had only now noticed how foul his lungs had been.

Then the line hesitated. Merchants shifted with their ledgers, unwilling to choke the road with carts while their goods sat outside.

A few raised their voices, asking about carriages and cargo, eyes flicking to the larger gates that remained closed.

Calyx stepped forward. His voice was serene, almost gentle, yet it carried over the mountain as if the air itself chose to listen.

"The large gates will be opened. There will be specific rules for that as well."

Metal groaned. The larger gates stirred. The first merchant urged his carriage through and found himself met by an attendant whose face was handsome in the way statues are handsome.

Too perfect. Too still. A ghost wearing skin like borrowed clothing.

"We will need to conduct a proper inspection of the carriage," the wraith attendant said.

The merchant swallowed, then forced a smile.

"Of course."

Ghostly energy disguised as regular qi washed over the cart in a blink. The wheels, the boards, the bundles, the sealed jars. Everything was touched without being touched.

"Ceramic goods, sir," the attendant replied. "Their worth is reckoned at nineteen spirit stones."

A menu was placed into the merchant's hands. It offered stalls for rent and the price of each.

Every stall was shown in a small, lifelike carving in wood, neat as a model city made for a child. The merchant chose the lowest grade, cautious as any man who counted his coin twice.

A wooden token was given to him. It bore a character for fire, stained orange, with a number beneath that marked where his stall waited.

Another list of rules lay there. Do not leave belongings when your time is out. Do not leave litter. Leave the store as clean as you found it.

The merchant's eyes wandered while his mind did sums.

Stalls for comfort stood to either side, oddly placed like they belonged in a home rather than a market. Curiosity pulled him closer.

Clay toilets. A wooden tube behind them dripped water with a steady patience. Deeper in were small cubicles where water fell from above in thin sheets, the sound like quiet rain.

He recoiled and hurried away, heat creeping up his neck. For honored guests, surely. Some noble indulgence.

He spotted another man in white robes nearby, yawning as if boredom were his cultivation. The merchant bowed and spoke quickly.

"Begging your pardon, esteemed sir. Are those fancy privies only for nobles and honored guests, or for every patron? And if I must take a shit, where should I put myself?" the merchant asked cautiously.

The white robed man barely blinked. He pointed, not bothering to look too hard at anything.

"It is available to all at any hour. Before you proceed, you are acquainted with the rules, correct?" the wraith said, his voice a far cry from the usual hunger and growls.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.