The journey to Logate started out more of a bother than I had first expected when I picked the imp up. The creature had shrunk when its Mana was dispersed, as a part of our bargain before it even became my familiar, but even so the wings were a true hassle when it came to carrying it around, flapping all over the place. The imposition was offset some by the creature being far more lightweight than I would have expected considering its size. I remembered that I had wondered about the imps strange flight, what now seemed so very long ago, there might possibly be a connection between that and how little it seemed to weigh. In the end I draped the creature over a shoulder and trudged on.

Approaching Logate by the road I was on would take me to the southern part of the city, which meant I would use the gate that entered into the slums rather than the main gate into the Merchants' Quarter or the palace gate into the High Quarter.

My chosen entrance, despite its location, was referred to as the dock gate and opened up onto what was without a doubt the most well kept road in the slums. It was patrolled rather diligently by the Guard, something that made me hold little fear of Syvon when just passing through. This road was used for all goods heading directly for the docks, rather than going by King's road and then onto Merchant's Lane and crossing most of Logate in the process. Though if one was headed for a ship in the northern part of the docks, the latter route might still be a faster than crossing the entirety of the docks lengthwise. I pondered the name of Merchant's Lane for a moment, it was not narrow by any stretch so it was a bit of a misnomer.

The only real reason I wanted to use the dock gate was the fact that even dressed as shabbily as I was, I would draw minimal attention of the Guard there, who were used to the dwellers of the slums. I might need to pay a bribe, but no one would expect me to have more than coppers so that should not be much of an issue.

As I approached the city, drawing curious glances from fellow travelers, I felt myself fall into mannerisms and behaviors I had cultivated during my years in the slums, but I also realized I had other options now. Who did I want to be? I was dressed like something the cat dragged in, but the imp over my shoulder made a lie out of any simple assumptions. I had a combat class now, and seven levels to my name, I could defend myself and had coin.

I wanted to buy more spells, do research on my Abilities and enchanting, visit the libraries, travel the world and see things I had only read of. I lifted my eyes from the road and watched the fields around me as I walked, a sense of freedom I had not experienced before made me straighten out of the street-rat-slouch I had adopted and I started walking with perhaps a foolish degree of confidence.

In ways I had not predicted when all this started, I had indeed set out on a path that could lead me to the very things I had wished for, though the beginning had been more than a bit rocky and the final outcome was certainly still up in the air.

More immediately though, my goals would have to be getting properly clean and some new clothes that would not make me quite as much of a dichotomy as I was now.

Slightly more long term I needed a plan for more coin, Fire Burst had cost a gold and that was the least expensive of the open Sphere spells. If I wanted a first Sphere spell or even higher I would need much more than that, presumably.

By the time I was approaching the vicinity of the dock gate, the sun had started setting and the Guard were closing off a portion of the gate. They were preparing to bar it completely in about an hour, and so the number of Guards at the gate grew fewer, as a smaller shift took over for the late evening and beginning of the night. The press of people trying to enter Logate sped up somewhat, as the people seemed to fear not being allowed to enter and thus being forced to wait out the night outside the walls.

I did not feel rushed, the amount of people trying to get in was by no means enough that there was even a chance of us not being let in before dark. I could sympathize with the fear, though personally I felt it would be little more an inconvenience being made to wait out the night. But most of those trying to get in looked like they supported themselves and possibly families with work on the fields, and as such a night of bad rest might be enough to hurt their chances to put food on the table.

Your Magic Strain has faded!

The change to how I felt was immediate and welcome, as a fogginess left my mind and brought everything into focus in a way it had not been mere moments ago. The imp over my shoulder shuddered as it no doubt got its first trickle of Mana in a day. While it should not have been starving by any means, I was unsure if imps used up Mana for any thing other than just staying alive. If they did, the amount they could get per day would be of far more importance, as a spell or two might just reduce its chances of surviving, or gaining levels.

"Status."

Ewynne

Age: 18

Level: 7

Experience: 764/2000

Race: Half-blood

Class: Enchantress

Strength: 6

Dexterity: 14

Agility: 12

Constitution: 12

Endurance: 8

Intelligence: 20

Wisdom: 13

Willpower: 20

Perfection: 14

Charisma: 12

Health: 37/120

Mana: 220/530 (12/minute)

Stamina: 62/80 (20/minute)

Unallocated Attributes: 0

I considered my status, as some of the last few people ahead of me were waved on by the Guards at the gate. I had some time before I needed to make decisions about what to do with my Attributes, and I assumed by the pattern so far that I would need at least another two levels before I got to choose a Trait or Ability once more. My current Health was still not very high and I needed some solid rest without accidents before that could be rectified. I was not about to pay golds for a healing unless I really needed to, though for further excursions bringing healing potions might be a good idea.

Which made me consider something I had not thought of before, if I was not a Mage, but I had learned Fire Burst, could I learn to heal? Despite that being a line of Cleric spells? Could I make a healing enchant? There was an open Sphere spell called Minor Healing, which should be possible to buy from a Scribe, though I would not be going back to where I bought Fire Burst, that was for sure. The idea made me very excited, and my distraction lasted long enough that I managed to get the Guard at the gate to growl at me to get a move on.

I wound my way through the crowd at the gate, many had seemingly stopped to chat with friends and neighbors just inside the gate once they had gotten through. It struck me as odd considering how demure and quiet everyone had been while waiting on the other side, but that was people for you; always doing strange things.

I decided to look for an inn at the docks, get a room to sleep in and a bath. For a few coppers I should be able to get some clothes from the innkeeper that should be less worn and dirty than my current ones, so for now, eating, bathing and sleeping was the plan.

As I walked I kept an eye out in case Syvon was more daring and attentive to my arrival than I presumed he would be.

I kept coming back to the question of how to behave now, I had always been strange compared to the people around me, mother had made very sure of that. With all that had changed, I would stand out more if I did not adapt how I portrayed myself than if I did.

It did not take too long before I came to the first inn near the border of the slums and the docks. I stopped and listened to the rowdy crowd inside and admitted that this was not the best of ideas, in a place like this I would quite likely find the very people I wanted to avoid the most. Revising my plan, I kept walking, along much the same route as I had run some time ago, ending up in a cell in the Chatheza, and finally in the strange slave pens. I was not afraid anyone would recognize me outside of Syvon's people. I did not think any Guard would have put my face to memory and the fat man had barely looked at me as it was.

For the first time in a while I wondered about the why of it all, I was intrigued by the mystery it presented. The actions I had knowledge of did not match with any desire I could identify, from my point of view it seemed the result would be both a loss of power and wealth, something that did not sit well with my view of the world.

How did the undead abomination and the Unraveling Spirit fit into the picture? Did they have a connection? Where they correlated events or causal? Mayhap just random chance?

Having passed halfway through the docks I turned my way onto Merchant's Lane, at the far end, which I could not even see from here, lay the Scribe's shop at which my adventure had started.

Merchant's Lane did not have any inns, rather it was packed tight with shops, many of them still open even at this hour. Lanterns and Mage Lights fought off the encroaching darkness and proclaimed which stores had wealth to spare and which were just getting by.

Walking a short distance down Merchant's Lane I turned right onto Opal street, which went all the way up to the gate into the Noble Quarter. The inns here were more upscale than what I assumed I could support long term, even the ones at the very start of the street should be comparatively expensive, and it ought to get worse the further up you went towards the Noble Quarter.

They did have one major advantage though, that being a customer here meant that no one would be foolish enough to cause problems unless the trouble came from the rich and powerful. But an inn this far down the street should not attract that kind of people. Though admittedly I was rather far out on the limb of conjecture at this point, while I had been here, this was not an area I frequented and my reasoning was rather full of supposition. I moved past the first two inns on a whim and settled on the third, the Chatelaine Inn, as was proclaimed boldly, on a to my mind, rather tasteful sign.

Other than the three inns I had seen, there seemed to be a fair amount of pubs by the look and sound of things, which I found surprising considering this was the main street leading to the Noble Quarter. I would have expected a more somber atmosphere, but perhaps I was overthinking it or expecting nobles to be different than they were.

There were other closed off doors, with shuttered windows and thus giving no hint as to their purpose. With a shrug at things I did not understand about the layout of the city I pushed open the half-door and entered the Chatelaine Inn, no doubt the half-door would be replaced by a full door in the coming weeks, as evenings and days got colder with the approach of autumn.

The inside of the inn was not exactly packed, people were scattered in small groups or alone, most of them eating but a few only sipped from tankards. The atmosphere was far from the rowdy crowd I had noticed at the docks or the jovial pubs on the same street. I got the sense that here people were considering tomorrow as they prepared for the night, a sentiment I could agree with.

The innkeeper, I assumed, stood with a rag in hand and a frown on her face as she considered me. She did not fit the heavy stereotype, being rather thin. She was well beyond middle aged, with an angular face and a head full of mostly gray hair with streaks of gold. Pale skin, sharp blue eyes and a small but angular nose made her seem a bit predatory to be honest, a thought reinforced by sharp words.

"I don't take kindly to begging here, shoo, rat."

I raised an eyebrow in reply as I patted the back of the imp to shatter her preconceptions as much as possible before I spoke.

"I want food, a bath, a bed and some clothes to wear when I go to get new ones on the morrow."

I had considered mentioning that I could pay, but decided against it. I spoke in the way mother had insisted I should, whenever I lay forth an argument at College. She had been most adamant that I would one day enter the Imperial College, something I now found myself adverse to, if only just to spite her.

My words were clipped and pronounced in ways people in Logate never spoke, at least as far as I knew. The innkeeper’s eyes widened a fraction as they roamed from the wings on the imp, to my face, down my clothes and back to my face. Her expression morphed faster than I could keep track of, she seemingly did not know how to deal with this, but still rallied rather quickly.

"Food for a half-silver, bath and room for a silver and clothes that will do until you get to a seamstress for a half-silver."

Those prices were beyond what I had expected, though my frame of reference was the slums where a room for the night included a slit throat more often than not. I only hesitated for a fraction before opening my pouch and fishing out two silver.

The woman nodded with a mix of surprise and suspicion on her face.

"Take a seat, food will be a minute, ale or lager?"

I assumed the swill I had tasted a few times would constitute an insult if compared to whatever was served here. I obviously did not know which I preferred, nor was I sure I could even drink more than a mouthful with my current condition, and as such I shrugged.

"Whichever you think suitable."

Looking around for a table I chose one in a corner, where I could sit with my back to the wall and keep sight of the room.

The innkeeper snorted in reply and left, hopefully to bring my food. I moved to my chosen table and sank down with a sigh, dumping the still unresponsive imp on a nearby chair.

I felt more than a bit out of my depth, but I had hope for a future that would at least be interesting.