《Mimic & Co. [An Enterprise-Building Progression Fantasy Novel]》 Chapter 1: Deep Waters ¡°Two hours.¡± Thadan¡¯s voice echoed off the cistern walls. ¡°Two fucking hours of walking, and what do we have to show for it? Another dead end¡ªAnyone else¡¯s feet killing them?¡± ¡°If you weren¡¯t wearing those ridiculous heeled monstrosities¡ª¡± ¡°They¡¯re fashionable, Mira.¡± ¡°For a brothel, maybe.¡± Brakar¡¯s light spell flickered against damp granite walls. The novelty of exploring Sweetwater Cistern had worn thin. His arm ached from holding the magical focus aloft, but someone had to illuminate their shame. At least the endless walking is better than fighting monsters, Brakar thought, then immediately regretted thinking it. The universe had a way of punishing optimism in dungeons. ¡°Mira, you sure about that map?¡± he asked. ¡°These tunnels don¡¯t match the layout. Someone¡¯s been renovating without updating the plans.¡± ¡°Wonderful.¡± Thadan sheathed his longsword, keeping the dagger ready. ¡°Just what we need. More complications on a job that barely covers supplies.¡± The guild debt loomed over them all, but Brakar knew that Thadan took it personally. His dreams of founding a legendary adventuring company hadn¡¯t included pest control. ¡°Hey, at least we¡¯re not stuck guarding merchant caravans.¡± Pockets smacked her mechanical compass. The needle spun wildly before settling on what was definitely not north. ¡°Though I¡¯d kill for a proper workshop budget right now.¡± ¡°We can barely afford healing potions,¡± Brakar muttered. The words tasted like copper in his mouth. ¡°Speaking of killing...¡± Mira crouched by the wall, running her fingers over deep grooves in the stone. ¡°These marks. Too big for rats.¡± Thadan barely glanced at them. ¡°Probably old damage from when they built the place. Focus on the job.¡± ¡°Right. The prestigious job.¡± Her spotted ears flattened against her skull. ¡°I told my parents I was doing important work in the city. Wonder what they¡¯d say if they knew their daughter was hunting oversized rodents in a sewer.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a cistern,¡± Pockets corrected, still fiddling with her compass. ¡°Completely different water management system. Actually, the engineering principles are fascinating¨CWait! I think I see something different in the stonework ahead. Maybe a¡ªno, just another crack. Sorry.¡± The steady tap of their footsteps continued. Brakar counted each step, trying to calculate distance traveled. Two hours at average walking speed should mean... ¡°This isn¡¯t natural.¡± Thadan stopped. ¡°We should have hit something by now. A turn, a door, anything.¡± ¡°Could be a loop spell.¡± Brakar cleared his throat. ¡°I read about them in¡ª¡± ¡°In one of your books at Six Spoons, we know.¡± Mira pointed out. ¡°Always with the books.¡± ¡°Books kept us alive in the Copper Mines.¡± ¡°Fair point.¡± She sniffed the air. ¡°But this doesn¡¯t smell like magic. Just dust and...¡± Her nose wrinkled. ¡°Something else.¡± ¡°Define ¡®something else.¡¯¡± Thadan¡¯s hand drifted to his sword. ¡°Can¡¯t. Never smelled it before.¡± Pockets bounced on her toes. ¡°Wait-wait, what if we¡¯re not going anywhere at all? Like one of those carnival tricks where the floor moves under you but you stay in place?¡± They all stopped. ¡°Shit.¡± Thadan let out a low whistle. ¡°That¡¯s... actually possible.¡± ¡°Oh, also!¡± Pockets snapped her fingers. ¡°What if we tried walking backward? Sometimes these old ruins have reversed logic triggers and¡ª¡± ¡°We are not walking backward for two hours,¡± Thadan said. Brakar pressed his palms against the wall. The stone felt real enough, but after so many horror stories from the library¡¯s restricted section... ¡°We could mark the wall? See if we pass it again?¡± ¡°Already did.¡± Mira pointed behind them. ¡°Three marks, half hour apart. We never saw them twice.¡± ¡°When did you¡ª¡± ¡°While you were all busy complaining about your feet.¡± Thadan crossed his arms. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to mention this earlier? Anyway.¡± He then raised a finger. ¡°What¡¯s that ahead?¡± Brakar lifted his light spell higher. The beam fell on a dark mass in the tunnel. As they approached, the shape resolved into the mangled remains of a giant rat. Its body had been torn apart with surgical precision, organs arranged in neat piles. Blood had soaked into the stone floor, creating a dark circle around the corpse that looked almost black in the magical light. ¡°Well.¡± Pockets swallowed. ¡°That¡¯s... methodical.¡± ¡°Could be territorial fighting.¡± Thadan prodded the corpse with his boot. ¡°Rats can get nasty with each other.¡± Brakar studied the careful placement of the organs. He¡¯d read about similar behavior in certain predators, but mentioning it would only add to their anxiety. Besides, the guild supervisor had been clear¡ªjust rats and maybe spiders. Nothing worth worrying about. ¡°Right.¡± Thadan stepped over the corpse. ¡°Keep moving. We clear the dungeon, we get paid.¡± Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythmic drip of water marked their progress deeper into the cistern. Brakar¡¯s fingers cramped around his spell focus¡ªa polished crystal that had cost three months of savings. The constant glow illuminated their path, but also cast writhing shadows that made every corner seem alive with movement. ¡°Hold up.¡± Mira¡¯s ears twitched. ¡°Junction ahead.¡± "YAAAS!" Thadan pumped his fist. "Not a loop spells. Point for the optimist!" The tunnel opened into a wider chamber. Ancient maintenance equipment lay scattered about¡ªrusted tools, rotted rope, crumbling wooden scaffolding. A weathered lantern hung from a hook, its glass clouded with age.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Brakar squinted at the lantern. Something about its proportions seemed... wrong. The way the metal caught his spell-light didn¡¯t match the tarnished surface. He¡¯d seen this before, in one of the bestiaries at Six Spoons. A low-level mimic, trying to blend in with abandoned equipment. While the others rested, he quietly murmured something and traced a complex pattern in the air. His magic always carried what Thadan called an ¡°accent¡±¡ªinstead of the standard amber sparkles, Brakar¡¯s spells manifested as spiraling threads of blue-white light. The magic wrapped around the false lantern, and for a moment, reality twisted. The mimic shuddered, then settled into its new form¡ªa perfectly functional lantern. Brakar caught Thadan watching and offered a slight shrug. Their leader had seen this habit before, Brakar¡¯s tendency to ¡°fix¡± rather than fight when possible. ¡°Everyone check your gear,¡± Thadan ordered, turning away. ¡°Mira, how¡¯s our map looking?¡± ¡°Still useless.¡± She spread the parchment across a relatively dry section of floor. ¡°These maintenance tunnels aren¡¯t even marked. And some genius spilled coffee on the legend.¡± ¡°Your father ever mention anything about maze-like sections, Thad?¡± Brakar asked. ¡°If he did, I wasn¡¯t listening,¡± Thadan replied with a tight smile. ¡°Was too busy planning my escape from his ¡®legacy of excellence.¡¯¡± ¡°Oh-oh!¡± Pockets bounced forward, fishing something from one of her many pockets. ¡°I made a thing! Well, modified a thing. Well, completely rebuilt a thing that used to be a compass, but now it¡¯s better because it can detect water flow patterns through stone using resonant frequencies and¡ª¡± ¡°Pockets.¡± Thadan rubbed his forehead. ¡°Short version.¡± ¡°Right-right. Sorry.¡± She held up what looked like a brass compass crossed with a music box. ¡°It¡¯ll find the main water channels. Theory is, the giant rats need water, so they¡¯ll nest near the flow.¡± She tapped the device¡¯s glass face. ¡°Just need to calibrate the¡ª¡± A shower of sparks erupted from the mechanism. The sound echoed through the chamber, bouncing off stone walls until it seemed to come from everywhere at once. They all froze. ¡°Sorry!¡± Pockets whispered. ¡°Minor technical difficulty. Just need to adjust the¡ª¡± More sparks. ¡°Shit.¡± Mira sighed. ¡°Can we maybe not announce our presence to everything in here?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Thadan said, but his hand stayed on his sword. ¡°Nothing down here but rats, remember?¡± Brakar moved to a shelf of old maintenance logs, hoping to distract himself from the growing tension. Most had rotted into illegibility, but one leather-bound volume remained partially intact. He flipped it open, squinting at the faded writing. Day 147: Movement in the walls again. Foreman says it¡¯s just settling stone, but stone doesn¡¯t move like that. Like something¡¯s [illegible] through it. Put in another request for Silver-rank inspection. Probably get ignored like the last three. Day 148: Lost contact with section 4 maintenance crew. Foreman says they ?went drinking. Their tools are still here. Day 149: Found scratch marks in the [illegible]. Too regular for rats. Too deep for [illegible]. Requesting immediate The rest had been eaten away by moisture and time. ¡°Found something?¡± Thadan asked. Brakar closed the log. ¡°Just old maintenance records. Nothing useful.¡± They pressed on, following Pockets¡¯ sputtering compass deeper into the cistern. The transformed mimic-lantern flickered nervously, but no one seemed to notice. The tunnel widened into their target section¡ªa vast chamber filled with columns and ancient pumping machinery. Water trickled down the walls, feeding into channels cut into the floor. The air felt thicker here, heavy with moisture and something else. Something organic. ¡°Finally.¡± Thadan drew his sword. ¡°Let¡¯s clear this place and¡ª¡± Movement above. A whisper of chitin on stone. Clicking mandibles in the dark. Black shapes coiled between the pipes. And a single, pearlescent strand of venom dripped down, stretched thin in the stale air before breaking apart and hitting the stone floor with a wet ¡®plick.¡¯ ¡°CENTIPEEEDES!¡± Thadan screamed. Brakar looked up just as the first one dropped from the ceiling. It was massive¡ªeasily fifteen feet of armored segments and far too many legs. More followed, falling like horrible rain. Their maws snapped with horrible intelligence as they scuttled with horrible speed to surround the party. ¡°Those,¡± Mira said as she nocked an arrow, ¡°are not fucking rats.¡± The first centipede lunged. ¡°Formation!¡± Thadan shouted, slashing at the monster. His attack merely polished the creature¡¯s natural armor, not even marring the surface. The creature retaliated, forcing him to dance backward or lose a leg to those clicking mandibles. ¡°Mira! How many?¡± ¡°Too many!¡± She loosed an arrow that bounced harmlessly off armored plating. ¡°They¡¯re using the columns for cover!¡± Brakar tried to focus, to recall the proper healing incantation, but a sudden impact sent him sprawling. Pain lanced through his arm where chitin had scraped skin. His spellbook slid across the wet floor, disappearing under a tangle of writhing segments. ¡°Pockets!¡± Thadan shouted. ¡°We need options!¡± ¡°Working on it!¡± She pulled something from her pack¡ªa complex arrangement of gears and springs. ¡°Just need to¡ª¡± A centipede¡¯s tail whipped past her head. ¡°Shit!¡± The mechanical trap snapped shut on one creature¡¯s leg, but three more appeared behind it. The trapped centipede simply twisted, crushing the device beneath its weight. They were being herded, Brakar realized. Each attack drove them further into the chamber, away from the exit. The centipedes moved with terrible coordination, cutting off escape routes one by one. Thadan struck again, this time finding a gap between segments. His dagger sank deep¡ªand stuck. He was forced to abandon it as the wounded creature thrashed, taking his weapon with it. ¡°Fall back!¡± he ordered. ¡°Find cover!¡± They scattered, taking refuge behind columns. Brakar pressed his back against cold stone, trying to stem the bleeding in his arm. Without his spellbook, he was limited to basic healing magic. It would have to be enough. ¡°Mira?!¡± Thadan shouted. ¡°Status?!¡± No response. ¡°Mira!¡± ¡°Bit busy!¡± Her voice came from somewhere to their left. ¡°Found an old maintenance tunnel, but¡ª¡± The sound of arrows striking chitin. ¡°Can¡¯t reach you!¡± Arrow whistled. Cutting air. Aimed for the monster above Thadan. The shaft ricocheted at a wicked angle, burying deep in Thadan¡¯s bicep. He roared, more frustration than pain. Blood spurted between his fingers as he yanked the arrow free. His hand flew to his belt, uncorking a healing potion with his teeth. The red liquid disappeared in one desperate swallow. Movement behind Mira. A massive centipede, segments rippling, mandibles spread wide. ¡°Down!¡± Thadan bellowed. Mira dropped. Thadan lunged. The creature¡¯s mandibles raked across his thigh, opening his flesh to bone. Blood painted the floor in a crimson arc. The centipede¡¯s head snapped sideways, its armored body coiling for another strike. Thadan¡¯s second potion shattered against his teeth. Glass crunched as he gulped the liquid, stem to stern. The gash in his leg sealed, but too slowly. Far too slowly. Why was it closing slowly? Brakar asked himself. No time¡ª The creature¡¯s mandibles clicked with unnerving precision, dripping with his blood. Brakar risked a glance around his column. The centipedes had shifted formation, leaving clear paths between certain columns while blocking others. The pattern looked familiar¡ªlike something he¡¯d seen in that book on swarm tactics. If he could just remember the counter... A horrible ripping sound drew his attention. Thadan staggered into view, his armor hanging loose where mandibles had severed the straps. He still gripped his sword, but his movements had grown sluggish. ¡°The pump!¡± Pockets called out. ¡°We need to protect the¡ª¡± They all turned. The ancient water pump¡ªtheir actual objective¡ªlay in ruins. Shattered gears and twisted metal suggested this damage wasn¡¯t new. Whatever had done this had been here for weeks. The mimic-lantern sputtered and died, plunging them into darkness, broken only by Brakar¡¯s weakening spell. In that dim light, he saw movement above. More shapes dropping from the ceiling, their segments clicking together like horrible applause. ¡°Even copper-ranks shouldn¡¯t fail at pest control,¡± Thadan muttered, quoting their guild supervisor. Brakar pressed harder against the column as mandibles clicked closer. His arm throbbed, his magic flickered, and in the darkness, more centipedes began to descend. Chapter 2: The Long Walk Home A merchant wagon rattled past, spraying muddy water across Brakar¡¯s already soaked boots. He didn¡¯t bother dodging. After the flood that had saved their lives, a little road splash hardly registered. His socks had been wet for so long they might as well be a permanent water feature. The wagon driver shot them a concerned look, likely noting their battered state. Brakar couldn¡¯t blame him. They looked less like adventurers and more like survivors of a shipwreck. Which, he supposed, wasn¡¯t entirely inaccurate. Thadan walked ahead, muttering numbers under his breath. Even without his leader¡¯s keen mind for finances, Brakar could do the math. The repair costs alone would eat through whatever meager payment they might salvage from this disaster. If they got paid at all, given the state they found the water pump in. ¡°Seven hundred for new gear,¡± Thadan was saying. ¡°Two hundred for the guild loan payment. Another hundred for...¡± He trailed off, shoulders slumping. Mira limped beside him, her usual grace hampered by a twisted ankle. Her quiver, normally bristling with arrows, now held three waterlogged shafts that would ?snap if she tried to use them. The sight reminded Brakar of a half-plucked bird. ¡°We could sell some things,¡± Pockets offered from the rear. The usual bounce in her step was gone, her feet dragging with exhaustion. ¡°I¡¯ve got some experimental pieces that might fetch¡ª¡± ¡°No one¡¯s buying waterlogged artifice,¡± Mira cut in. Her tail dragged in the mud, the controlled flicks she normally used to balance now just listless swaying. ¡°Besides, you need those for your research.¡± The single healing potion clinked in Brakar¡¯s belt pouch. They¡¯d agreed to save it for emergencies, though their current collection of scrapes, sprains, and bruises made a compelling argument for ¡°emergency.¡± His own arm throbbed where chitin had scraped skin, the makeshift bandage already soaked through. Another merchant caravan approached. This one slowed as it passed, the guards¡¯ hands drifting to weapons. Brakar expected as much. Four bedraggled adventurers on an open road probably set off all sorts of warning bells. Still, the suspicion stung. ¡°Remember when we thought we¡¯d be famous by now?¡± Thadan¡¯s attempt at humor fell flat. ¡°Orichalcum rank by twenty-five, wasn¡¯t that the plan?¡± ¡°Twenty-four,¡± Mira corrected. ¡°You were very specific about beating your father¡¯s record.¡± The reminder drew a wince. ¡°Well, at twenty-five we¡¯re...¡± Thadan gestured at their sodden state. ¡°Here.¡± Brakar¡¯s thoughts drifted to the mimic-lantern. He¡¯d hoped the creature would survive, but it didn¡¯t. The memory of their escape played back in fragments: Mira¡¯s shout as she discovered the flood controls. Pockets¡¯ manic grin as she jammed her broken compass into ancient machinery. The horrible moment of silence before water thundered through forgotten channels. They¡¯d rode that artificial tide like the world¡¯s worst river rafting expedition. Pockets screaming with either terror or delight¡ªpossibly both. Mira using her natural agility to keep them from being dashed against walls. Thadan somehow maintaining his grip on both sword and dignity. And Brakar? He¡¯d focused on not drowning while keeping his one remaining healing focus from washing away. A remarkably low bar for success, yet he¡¯d barely managed it. A fork in the road appeared ahead. Left led to the merchant''s wayhouse with its promise of fresh sheets and hot meals, right to the cheapside campgrounds where most adventurers pitched their tents. Thadan didn¡¯t even pause, turning right with the resignation of someone who knew exactly how much coin wasn¡¯t in his purse. Thunder rumbled overhead. Because of course it would rain. Why wouldn¡¯t it rain? They were only soaked to the bone, wearing ruined gear, and nursing injuries that made every step an exercise in creative cursing. The first drops fell as they reached their usual campsite¡ªa small clearing just off the trade road where local guards turned a blind eye to adventurers too broke for proper lodging. Other parties had clearly had the same idea, but one look at Steel Tempest¡¯s bedraggled state sent them scurrying to the far side of the clearing. ¡°Right,¡± Thadan said, dropping his pack with a wet squelch. ¡°Let¡¯s see what¡¯s salvageable.¡± The inventory process felt like attending a funeral for their equipment. Pockets spread her tools across a relatively dry patch of ground, and the metal was slick with cistern water, and dark silt clung to every surface, and her beloved precision instruments¡ªsaved for months to afford¡ªsat waterlogged and mud-streaked, their delicate calibration almost certainly ruined. Mira¡¯s bowstrings were a lost cause, the moisture having rendered them worse than useless. She held up her backup strings, which had somehow fared even worse. ¡°Well,¡± she said with forced lightness, ¡°I always wanted to try sword fighting.¡± ¡°Not with my sword,¡± Thadan said quickly. ¡°It¡¯s got enough nicks from those centipedes.¡± The rain picked up, driving them toward shelter. Their usual camp setup involved three tents arranged in a triangle, but two had been sacrificed to their escape. The remaining shelter barely fit four people on a good day.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Today was not a good day. ¡°If we squeeze...¡± Pockets began. ¡°We squeeze,¡± Thadan confirmed. ¡°Unless anyone wants to sleep in the rain.¡± They packed in like sardines, personal space becoming a distant memory. Brakar found himself wedged between Mira''s golden-furred shoulder and Pockets¡¯ collection of salvaged gears. The close quarters carried a mix of wet fur, stressed sweat, and something resembling centipede ichor. ¡°Anyone remember the words to that campfire song?¡± Pockets asked. ¡°The one about the dwarf and the dragon?¡± ¡°No fire tonight,¡± Thadan reminded her. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve got dry wood hidden somewhere.¡± ¡°We could try that heat spell,¡± Mira suggested. ¡°The one Brak used in the copper mines.¡± Brakar shifted uncomfortably, displacing several gears. ¡°Lost the focus for that one. It was in my spellbook.¡± The reminder of their lost equipment killed the conversation. Rain drummed against canvas, punctuated by distant thunder and the occasional splash of passing wagons. ¡°I had a dream once,¡± Mira said after a long silence. ¡°Back when I was just a kit. Wanted to be the first leopard-folk to map the whole world. Had this fancy compass my father gave me, spent hours practicing with it.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± Pockets asked. ¡°Reality. Turns out the world¡¯s already pretty well mapped. Not much call for explorers these days.¡± ¡°Could be worse,¡± Thadan offered. ¡°Could be stuck following in someone else¡¯s footsteps, trying to live up to impossible expectations.¡± The bitterness in his voice hung heavy in the cramped space. ¡°We could take a break,¡± Pockets suggested carefully. ¡°Just for a while. I¡¯ve got some contacts in the artifice guild who might need help with experiments.¡± ¡°The mapmaker¡¯s guild always needs couriers,¡± Mira added. ¡°Pay¡¯s not great, but it¡¯s steady.¡± ¡°The library¡¯s always hiring,¡± Brakar found himself saying. ¡°For shelving and such.¡± They all pretended not to notice how easily these alternatives came to mind, as if they¡¯d been rehearsing them privately for weeks. ¡°A break,¡± Thadan repeated, testing the word. ¡°Just until we get back on our feet.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Mira¡¯s tail curled protectively around her ruined bow. ¡°Not giving up. Just... regrouping.¡± Thunder crashed closer, making the tent shudder. Rain leaked through a small tear, forming a puddle that slowly soaked into their already damp bedrolls. No one moved to fix it. ¡°Remember that tavern keeper in the northern quarter?¡± Pockets asked. ¡°The one who kept trying to hire us as bouncers?¡± ¡°Free meals included,¡± Thadan mused. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound so bad now.¡± ¡°Could save up,¡± Mira added. ¡°Build up a proper gear fund before taking another contract.¡± ¡°Be smart about it,¡± Brakar said. ¡°Like actual professionals.¡± They all laughed at that, though the sound held more exhaustion than humor. The rain continued its assault as night crept in. Their usual watch rotation fell apart as exhaustion won out over caution. Besides, what self-respecting bandit would target four adventurers who looked like they¡¯d already been robbed by fate itself? Brakar drifted between sleep and waking, his thoughts circling like vultures. The mimic-lantern was almost a small victory¡ªconvincing a monster to become something useful rather than fighting it. But useful things had a way of being destroyed in their line of wor¡­ **** A particularly loud thunderclap jolted him awake. In the brief flash of lightning, he caught glimpses of his companions¡¯ faces. Thadan staring at nothing, likely still running numbers in his head. Mira curled around her bow like a mother protecting a child. Pockets clutching a handful of gears, her usual excited energy replaced by something darker. They were all so young, he realized. Not just in age, but in experience. They¡¯d started this adventure with dreams of glory, of proving themselves to the world. Now they huddled in a leaking tent, trying to convince themselves that ¡°taking a break¡± wasn¡¯t the same as admitting defeat. Movement outside caught his attention. Through a gap in the tent flap, he spotted another adventuring party making camp. Their gear was pristine, their movements confident. One of them wore the silver medallion of a higher-ranked guild. The sight should have inspired envy or determination. Instead, Brakar felt a strange sort of relief. At least they wouldn¡¯t have to watch their own slow decline into obscurity. Better to ¡°take a break¡± now, while they could still pretend it was temporary. Thunder rolled again, closer this time. The leak in the tent had grown, forming a steady drip that traced patterns in the mud. Patterns that, in Brakar¡¯s exhausted mind, looked disturbingly like centipede tracks. A sudden gust of wind caught the tent, making the canvas snap like a sail. For a moment, the sound was indistinguishable from the click of mandibles. Brakar wasn¡¯t the only one who flinched. ¡°We should get some sleep,¡± Thadan said, his voice barely audible over the storm. ¡°Long walk back to the city tomorrow.¡± No one mentioned that they could barely afford lodging anymore. Or that their usual backup plan¡ªcamping in the guild hall¡ªwould mean facing questions about their failed mission. Some truths were better left unspoken, at least for one more night. The rain redoubled its efforts, as if determined to wash away their last shreds of dignity. In the darkness, someone¡ªprobably Pockets¡ªbegan humming that damn dwarf and dragon song. No one told her to stop. They huddled closer, sharing what little warmth remained. Tomorrow would bring hard decisions and harder conversations. But for now, they had this: four friends in a leaking tent, pretending that ¡°taking a break¡± meant anything other than the end. A flurry of memories came and went in Brakar¡¯s mind. Memories of how they used to plan their futures over drinks at Six Spoons. Mira sketching maps of unexplored territories on napkins, Pockets describing impossible machines she''d build, Thadan swearing they would get Bronzeite-rank next week. They''d been so sure, so absolutely certain that determination and friendship would be enough. Now here they lay, holding each other against the storm, and Brakar realized what he''d really miss wasn''t the adventuring at all¡ªit was¡­ This. The four of them, together, making even the worst situations bearable just by being there. He wanted to tell them that, to put into words how much these moments had meant to him¡ª Lightning flashed again, illuminating the silver medallion of that other party. Its gleam seemed to mock them, a reminder of everything they¡¯d failed to achieve. Brakar closed his eyes against the sight, but the afterimage remained: success, just out of reach. Chapter 3: Recompense Brakar winced as their boots scraped against Ironweave¡¯s famous bridges, the metallic screech a perfect accompaniment to his throbbing headache. The morning sun caught the iron latticework at exactly the wrong angle, creating a dazzling display that did nothing to improve his mood. Their shadows stretched long across the weathered metal as they made their slow trek toward the Patchwork Post. The city sprawled around them in its usual organized chaos¡ªa patchwork of architectural styles as varied as its inhabitants. Market stalls perched precariously on the narrower bridges, their colorful awnings snapping in the wind. The familiar scents of spiced meats and fresh bread wafted up from the lower levels, making Brakar¡¯s empty stomach clench painfully. ¡°Watch your step,¡± Mira called from behind as Thadan¡¯s boot caught on a loose rivet. ¡°Last thing we need is someone falling through.¡± The humor failed to spark a reaction, just as their spirits remained dim. The leopard-folk¡¯s cream-colored fur was matted and dirty, her usual meticulous grooming abandoned in favor of basic survival during their trek back to the city. She moved with none of her characteristic grace, each step careful and measured to avoid aggravating her injuries. Pockets brought up the rear, unusually quiet. The normally chatty kobold hadn¡¯t spoken more than a few words since they¡¯d broken camp, her fingers absently fiddling with what remained of her prized compass. The constant metallic clicking had become a sort of nervous metronome for their procession. A merchant caravan passed them on the wider section of the bridge, the traders giving them a wide berth. Brakar couldn¡¯t blame them¡ªthey looked like walking disaster victims. Their gear, what little remained of it, hung in tatters. Mud and worse caked their boots, leaving trailing footprints that drew disapproving looks from the morning crowd. ¡°Almost there,¡± Thadan announced, his usual confident tone strained around the edges. ¡°Just need to explain things to Ms. Thornberry. Get our payment sorted.¡± The way he said ¡°payment¡± made it sound like ¡°miracle.¡± They descended a spiral staircase to the lower level, where the Patchwork Post squatted among its more respectable neighbors. The former textile warehouse wore its history proudly, its mismatched architecture a testament to generations of modifications. Windows of varying sizes and shapes dotted the facade, accommodating the diverse height requirements of its equally diverse clientele. The morning crowd had already gathered¡ªfresh-faced adventurers with shiny new gear and untested dreams. They parted like water around a stone as Steel Tempest approached, whispers following in their wake. Brakar caught fragments of conversation: ¡°Is that blood or mud?¡± ¡°Both, probably.¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t they copper-ranked?¡± ¡°Not for long, by the looks of it.¡± The Patchwork Post¡¯s interior hit them with its usual wall of noise and barely controlled chaos. The main hall buzzed with activity¡ªclerks shuffling papers, adventurers arguing over contracts, the constant creaking of wooden floors beneath feet of various sizes. The famous job board hung from its chains in the center, its surface plastered with notices ranging from mundane to mysterious. Ms. Thornberry sat at her usual desk, her weathered green skin catching the light from multiple-height windows. Her sharp amber eyes tracked their approach with the resignation of someone who had seen this particular walk of shame many times before. ¡°Ah,¡± she said, setting aside her quill. ¡°Steel Tempest returns. Though perhaps ¡®stumbles back¡¯ would be more accurate.¡± Thadan stepped forward, summoning what remained of his charm. ¡°Ms. Thornberry, always a pleasure. About our contract¡ª¡± ¡°The water pump contract?¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°The one that specifically requested pest control for, and I quote, ¡®just some giant rats and maybe a few spiders¡¯?¡± ¡°There may have been some... unexpected complications.¡± ¡°Complications.¡± She drew out the word like a sword from its sheath. ¡°Do tell.¡± As he launched into his explanation, carefully crafting failure into something approaching success, Brakar felt a light touch on his arm. Mira gestured toward a quieter corner of the hall, her expression unreadable. They moved away from the main crowd, finding relative privacy behind one of the hall¡¯s many support columns. Up close, Brakar could see the full extent of her exhaustion¡ªthe slight droop to her whiskers, the way her tail hung limp instead of its usual beautiful movements. ¡°I need to tell you something,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°And I¡¯d rather do it now, before things get any more complicated.¡± Brakar¡¯s healing instincts kicked in, eyes automatically scanning for injuries he might have missed. ¡°Are you hurt worse than you let on? I might be able to¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m leaving the party.¡± The words hit like a physical blow. Brakar blinked, certain he¡¯d misheard. ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not because of this quest,¡± Mira added quickly. ¡°I made up my mind a while ago. Been thinking about it for months, actually.¡± ¡°But...¡± Brakar struggled to process this new reality. ¡°Why?¡± Mira¡¯s tail flicked¡ªa subtle but uncommon display of nervousness for someone typically so composed. ¡°I might give hairdressing another go. My parents¡¯ old clients still ask about me sometimes. There¡¯s a market for traditional grooming techniques, especially among the older beastfolk families.¡± ¡°Hairdressing,¡± Brakar repeated numbly. ¡°Instead of adventuring.¡± ¡°Instead of dying in a waterlogged cistern fighting oversized bugs.¡± She attempted a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°Seems like a lateral move, at worst.¡± Movement caught Brakar¡¯s attention. Pockets stood a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot with uncharacteristic hesitation. The kobold¡¯s eyes were fixed on the floor, her usual enthusiastic energy completely absent. ¡°Pockets?¡± Brakar asked. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± She looked up, her expression a complex mix of emotions. ¡°I... I got accepted. At the university. The artificer¡¯s college, specifically.¡± The words tumbled out in a rush. ¡°I want to keep adventuring, I do, but this is a really good opportunity and they rarely open up spots for new students and¡ª¡± ¡°Pockets!¡± Brakar cut off her rambling. ¡°That¡¯s amazing news!¡± Mira¡¯s ears perked up. ¡°The artificer¡¯s college? That¡¯s incredibly prestigious. When did you apply?¡± ¡°Last season.¡± Pockets twisted a gear between her fingers. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d actually get in. My methods aren¡¯t exactly... traditional.¡± ¡°Traditional is overrated,¡± Brakar said firmly. ¡°You¡¯ll revolutionize the whole field.¡± ¡°You really think so?¡± ¡°I know so.¡± He managed a genuine smile. ¡°And we can still hang out. The university¡¯s not far from The Stack.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Hope crept into her voice. ¡°You¡¯re not mad?¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°Mad? About one of my friends achieving something incredible? Never.¡± Their moment was interrupted by Thadan¡¯s return. Their leader wore an expression of carefully measured satisfaction¡ªthe look of someone who had haggled their way to an acceptable compromise. ¡°Good news,¡± he announced. ¡°We¡¯re getting thirty percent of the original payment.¡± Brakar stared at him. ¡°Thirty? How did you manage that?¡± ¡°The information about the centipedes has value,¡± he explained. ¡°Plus our initial survey of the tunnels. I started at fifty percent, but honestly? I would have taken twenty.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d get five,¡± Brakar admitted. ¡°Never underestimate the power of proper documentation.¡± Thadan produced a slightly damp but still legible map covered in Mira¡¯s precise notations. ¡°Ms. Thornberry was particularly interested in the maintenance logs you found. Apparently, there¡¯s been some concern about similar issues in other parts of the water system.¡± The conversation lulled as a group of fresh-faced adventurers passed nearby, their gear gleaming in the morning light. They wore silver medallions¡ªmid-ranked guild members, probably looking for support roles for their next expedition. One of them glanced at Steel Tempest with poorly concealed disdain. Brakar watched them go, remembering when his own gear had been that pristine, when every quest had seemed like a step toward glory rather than survival. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between the four of them. ¡°So,¡± Thadan said finally. ¡°Who¡¯s hungry? Thirty percent should cover a meal at The Six Spoons, at least.¡± No one moved. Mira¡¯s eyes narrowed. Pockets clutched her broken compass tighter. ¡°About that,¡± Mira began. But before she could continue, a commotion erupted near the job board. The chains creaked ominously as a crowd gathered, voices rising in excitement or alarm. Ms. Thornberry rose from her desk, her customary scowl deepening. ¡°New posting,¡± someone shouted. ¡°Priority contract!¡± ¡°Emergency request from the water commission,¡± another voice added. ¡°Something about ¡®unexpected fauna¡¯ in the northern reservoirs.¡± Brakar caught Thadan¡¯s eye. Their leader¡¯s expression shifted from exhaustion to calculation in an instant. ¡°We should at least look,¡± Thadan said. ¡°With our recent experience¡ª¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± Mira¡¯s voice cut through his planning like a knife. ¡°We need to talk.¡± The job board shifted once more. Steel Tempest stood frozen in their moment of truth, while around them, the Patchwork Post continued its eternal dance of dreams and disasters. More adventurers pushed past them toward the board, their excited chatter fading into background noise. Brakar noticed how none of his companions moved to join them. Instead, they formed their own small island in the chaos¡ªfour friends at a crossroads, each holding a different piece of their shared future¡¯s wreckage. Time drifted in quiet currents through the room, its presence felt in the air itself. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolled the hour. Time, like water in the cistern, kept flowing forward, carrying them all toward inevitable change. Ms. Thornberry¡¯s voice pierced through the growing crowd: ¡°Those interested in the northern reservoir contract, form an orderly queue. And please note¡ªthis one specifically requires proof of experience with subterranean fauna.¡± Thadan¡¯s hand twitched toward the pouch containing their new payment. Thirty percent of a failed contract¡ªenough for one last meal together, perhaps. Or a down payment on whatever came next. The job board creaked one final time, its chains settling into a new configuration. Above them, the iron bridges of Ironweave gleamed beneath the shifting sky, their patterns a reminder that even the strongest connections could be beautiful in their complexity. The chains rattled again, an impatient summons to glory or doom. But for once, none of them moved to answer its call. Instead, they turned away, leaving the excited chatter of hopeful adventurers behind them. Thadan¡¯s suggestion of The Six Spoons hung between them like a lifeline¡ªtheir last feast as a party. The prospect of another quest faded into the distance as they left the Patchwork Post, Brakar¡¯s mind already seeking refuge in the familiar comfort of analysis. It was what he did best¡ªbreak down situations into manageable pieces, just like dissecting spell theory or studying healing techniques. The thirty percent payment felt heavy in Thadan¡¯s pouch, each coin a lingering weight of their failed mission. But what weighed heavier was the unspoken tension between his companions¡ªMira¡¯s fur standing on end, her posture taut, and Pockets unable to meet anyone¡¯s eyes. The walk to The Six Spoons traced a path he knew by heart, across three different bridges and down two levels to where the old tavern squatted between districts like a grandmother who refused to move despite her children¡¯s success. He¡¯d spent countless hours in its library corner, borrowing books that helped him understand everything from advanced healing theory to social cues he¡¯d missed growing up. The thought of those books brought a familiar ache¡ªhis own spellbook was still somewhere in that flooded cistern, probably being used as a centipede¡¯s coaster by now. The tavern¡¯s noisy atmosphere greeted them first. Then the layered traces of six different cuisines mingling through the space, and his mind cataloged them automatically¡ªspiced meats from the northern quarter, fresh bread from the human district, aromatic teas from the eastern edge. Each smell carried memories: late-night study sessions, quiet conversations with other regulars who never pressed too hard about his past, gentle corrections from the librarian when his social awkwardness showed through. The Six Spoons had become more than just a tavern to him; it was where he¡¯d started rebuilding himself after escaping his girlfriend¡¯s manipulation, where Thadan had first introduced him to Mira and Pockets, where he¡¯d learned it was okay to trust again. Watching his companions¡¯ drawn faces and noting the careful distance they maintained from each other, he couldn¡¯t deny what was coming. He¡¯d seen enough endings in his books to know what they looked like in reality. The thought of change sent a familiar panic through his chest, but he forced himself to examine it rationally, the way the library¡¯s self-help books had taught him. Sometimes endings were just beginnings in disguise. Still, as they approached the tavern¡¯s weathered door, he wished he¡¯d borrowed a book on how to say goodbye to friends who¡¯d become family. They settled into their usual corner, where the mingled scents did little to ease the tension. Their drinks arrived¡ªthree ales and Pockets¡¯ usual tea with extra honey. A half-eaten loaf of dark bread sat untouched between them. ¡°So.¡± Thadan broke the silence first, rolling his tankard between his palms. ¡°That new contract on the board...¡± ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Mira¡¯s tail wrapped tighter around her chair leg. ¡°We could at least look at the details. With our experience¡ª¡± ¡°Our experience of nearly drowning?¡± Brakar coughed into his fist softly. ¡°The historical records suggest that most successful adventuring parties actually face several near-catastrophic events before¡ª¡± ¡°Oh-oh! Like the Champions of Dawn! They almost got wiped out by those crystal golems before they...¡± Pockets¡¯ voice trailed off as she caught the others¡¯ expressions. ¡°Sorry. Not helping.¡± ¡°My fur¡¯s still damp.¡± Mira ran a claw through her matted coat. ¡°Feels about as sleek as a hedgehog¡¯s attempt at swimming.¡± Thadan leaned forward, elbows on the table. ¡°Look, I know things got messy¡ª¡± ¡°Messy?¡± Pockets began disassembling her napkin ring, her claws working faster as she spoke. ¡°Wait-wait, that reminds me¡ªI could probably design something to help with the water problem. Maybe if we rerouted the flow through a series of graduated chambers, or¡ªoh! We could install pressure gauges at key points¡ªand what if we added a resonance detector to¡ªI got accepted to the artificer¡¯s college.¡± The silence that followed felt heavier than their waterlogged gear. ¡°Wh¡ª¡± Thadan¡¯s tankard hit the table with a dull thud. ¡°You what?¡± His voice cracked slightly. ¡°Since when were you even¡ªhow long have you¡ª¡± He dragged his hand through his hair, a gesture that would have looked more dignified if it wasn¡¯t still crusted with mud. ¡°Last week. I mean, I applied months ago, but I never thought... and their admissions only happen once every three years, so...¡± Mira¡¯s fur slowly settled. ¡°I¡¯m leaving too.¡± ¡°For the mapmaker¡¯s guild?¡± Thadan asked. ¡°Hairdressing.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Thadan sat back. ¡°Well. That¡¯s...¡± ¡°Practical.¡± Mira shrugged. ¡°Less chance of being eaten by centipedes.¡± ¡°The statistical likelihood of centipede-related fatalities is ?quite low compared to...¡± Brakar adjusted his collar. ¡°Never mind.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± Thadan¡¯s gaze fixed on their healer. ¡°I...¡± Brakar traced a pattern in the condensation on his tankard. ¡°The library always needs help. With cataloging. And research.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Thadan pushed back from the table. ¡°So that¡¯s it then.¡± ¡°Thadan¡ª¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s smart, actually. Very practical. Unlike some of us, still chasing stupid dreams about¡ª¡± ¡°Wait-wait!¡± Pockets¡¯ hands fluttered over her collection of gears. ¡°We could still... I mean, between classes, maybe...¡± ¡°The university¡¯s schedule is quite demanding.¡± Brakar¡¯s voice grew softer. ¡°I¡¯ve read their curriculum guidelines.¡± ¡°Of course you have.¡± Thadan¡¯s laugh held no humor. ¡°My first client appointment is next week. Some noble¡¯s pet project. Wants old-school grooming methods.¡± They all stared at their drinks. ¡°We had some good moments, though.¡± Pockets began reassembling the napkin ring. Thadan raised his tankard. ¡°To Steel Tempest. May we die of old age instead of stupid heroics.¡± ¡°To not dying.¡± Mira lifted her drink. ¡°To new beginnings?¡± Pockets offered. Brakar hesitated, then raised his ale. ¡°To friends.¡± Chapter 4: Signs and Portents The past week had settled into a strange quiet that Brakar wasn¡¯t sure he liked. Without Pockets¡¯ constant stream of technical theories or Mira¡¯s dry observations, the days felt oddly empty. He¡¯d filled them with reading, spending long hours in his corner of The Six Spoons with borrowed books, but even that felt different. His usual satisfaction in learning new healing techniques was dampened by the knowledge that he had no one to practice them on¡ªno Thadan charging recklessly into combat, no Pockets setting herself on fire with experimental devices, no Mira needing burns treated after another ¡°slight miscalculation¡± with explosive arrows. He told himself the quiet was good. Productive. The stack of books beside his bed had grown impressively tall, and for once he could read without interruption. But if he was honest with himself¡ªand he tried to be, these days¡ªit was mind-numbingly boring. Even the familiar comfort of The Stack felt different. The constant creaking of other adventurers trudging up and down the stairs now seemed less like the background noise of home and more like a reminder of opportunities slipping away. His coin pouch was another matter entirely. Each day it grew lighter, despite his best efforts at frugality. He¡¯d switched to a diet heavy on root vegetables and day-old bread, telling himself it was healthier anyway. The copper mines had taught him how to stretch resources, but this felt different. Back then, they at least had regular income, meager as it was. Now each copper piece spent felt like watching grains of sand slip through an hourglass. The worst part was catching himself automatically noting potential healing opportunities whenever he walked through the market. A worker with a sprained ankle, a child¡¯s scraped knee, a merchant¡¯s stiff shoulder¡ªall minor ailments he could easily treat. But without guild backing, offering such services would be... complicated. Legally questionable, even. So he kept walking, his unused magic itching beneath his skin like a muscle begging to be stretched. Only Thadan¡¯s daily visits broke the monotony, though lately those had grown strange too. His friend would burst in with his usual energy, start to suggest something wild, then catch himself and leave just as suddenly. It was unlike him¡ªThadan¡¯s ideas usually poured out unfiltered, regardless of their practicality. This new, hesitant version of his friend was almost as unsettling as the silence. ¡®BANG BANG BANG¡¯ ¡®BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG¡¯ The thunderous knocking jolted Brakar from his studies, sending a carefully balanced tower of borrowed books cascading across his tiny room. Magical theory texts crashed against his rickety bedframe while anatomical diagrams fluttered through the pre-dawn gloom like startled birds. He¡¯d finally managed to organize them by subject just yesterday. ¡®BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG¡¯ ¡°Coming!¡± Brakar called, navigating the literary obstacle course with practiced ease. His room in The Stack wasn¡¯t exactly spacious on the best of days, and with his recent academic pursuits, it had begun to resemble a library after an earthquake. He already knew who it was¡ªonly one person knocked with that particular combination of urgency and dramatic flair. The real question was what crisis had driven Thadan to his door at this ungodly hour. The door creaked open to reveal his friend looking simultaneously exhausted and energized¡ªa combination that usually preceded either brilliant inspiration or catastrophic decisions. Dark circles ringed Thadan¡¯s eyes, but they blazed with an intensity that made Brakar instinctively check for signs of fever or magical influence. ¡°Perfect, you¡¯re awake!¡± Thadan announced, as if he hadn¡¯t just been trying to punch through the door. ¡°I am now,¡± Brakar muttered, noting the way his friend¡¯s fingers drummed against the doorframe¡ªanother warning sign of impending schemes. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Wrong? Nothing¡¯s wrong! Everything¡¯s right!¡± Thadan¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Get dressed. We¡¯re getting breakfast.¡± Brakar glanced at his window, where the first hints of dawn were just beginning to lighten the sky. ¡°The Six Spoons won¡¯t be open for hours.¡± ¡°They will be for us.¡± Thadan produced a slightly wrinkled paper bag that smelled promisingly of stale bread. ¡°I may have convinced the night baker to sell me yesterday¡¯s leftovers at a discount.¡± ¡°Of course you did.¡± Brakar sighed, but he was already reaching for his boots. Whatever Thadan had planned, it would probably be less expensive to go along with it than to deal with the consequences of refusing. The Stack¡¯s narrow stairwell carried a faint draft as they descended. At this hour, most of the other residents were either still asleep or just returning from night shifts. The communal kitchen on Brakar¡¯s floor stood empty, its worn wooden table bearing the usual collection of mysterious stains and initials carved by generations of temporary residents. Thadan cleared a space among the debris and began unpacking his bag with the air of someone preparing for a formal presentation. Day-old rolls were arranged with surprising care, accompanied by a small crock of butter that had clearly seen better days. ¡°Quite the feast,¡± Brakar observed, settling onto one of the less wobbly chairs. ¡°A meal fit for future business moguls,¡± Thadan declared, then immediately winced at his own words. Brakar paused mid-reach for a roll. ¡°Business moguls?¡± ¡°Well, maybe not moguls exactly.¡± Thadan¡¯s usual confidence wavered slightly. ¡°But... business something, at least.¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± Brakar kept his voice carefully neutral. ¡°What are you planning?¡± His friend took a deep breath, then said something Brakar never expected to hear: ¡°Our adventuring career is over.¡± The words hung in the air between them, heavy with finality. Brakar waited for the usual follow-up¡ªsome wild scheme to revive their fortunes, another ¡°can¡¯t-miss opportunity¡± that would definitely get them above iron rank this time. Instead, Thadan simply nodded, as if confirming something to himself. ¡°Let¡¯s be honest¡ªwe should¡¯ve made it past iron rank years ago. The cistern was just the final proof.¡± ¡°That¡¯s... surprisingly practical of you,¡± Brakar said carefully. ¡°I know, right?¡± Thadan laughed, but there was no bitterness in it. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing though¡ªmaybe that¡¯s not such a bad thing. Being practical, I mean.¡± He reached into his bag again and pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment, spreading it across the table with the same reverence he¡¯d once reserved for treasure maps. It turned out to be a property listing, complete with official guild stamps and notary seals. ¡°We¡¯ve been looking at this all wrong,¡± Thadan continued, his earlier excitement returning. ¡°Everyone thinks you have to be an adventurer to make it in this city, but look around! The real money¡¯s in supporting adventurers, not being them.¡± Brakar studied the document, noting the location in one of Ironweave¡¯s lower districts. ¡°You want to open a shop?¡± ¡°I want us to open a shop,¡± Thadan corrected. ¡°Together. As partners.¡± The proposition hung between them like a spell waiting to be cast. Outside, the first real light of dawn began to paint The Stack¡¯s weathered walls in shades of possibility. ¡°You¡¯re serious about this,¡± Brakar realized. ¡°Completely.¡± Thadan slung an arm around Brakar''s shoulders, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper. ¡°Look, I know my track record with plans isn¡¯t exactly stellar¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s an understatement.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°-but this is different. This time I¡¯ve thought it through. Well, most of it. Some of it.¡± He grinned. ¡°That¡¯s where you come in.¡± Brakar raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°You¡¯re the analytical one. The practical one. The one who actually reads contracts before signing them.¡± ¡°Someone has to.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Thadan¡¯s enthusiasm was becoming infectious. ¡°I¡¯ve got the people skills, you¡¯ve got the brain. Between us, we could make something work. Something real.¡± Brakar found himself weighing the idea. The idea wasn¡¯t entirely without merit¡ªespecially compared to some of Thadan¡¯s previous schemes. And his own prospects weren¡¯t exactly promising at the moment. ¡°The rent would be within our means,¡± Thadan added, clearly sensing his friend¡¯s wavering resolve. ¡°The neighborhood¡¯s not great, but that just means room for growth, right?¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t even told me what kind of shop you¡¯re planning.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Thadan¡¯s confidence flickered slightly. ¡°Well, that¡¯s sort of... flexible at the moment.¡± ¡°Flexible.¡± ¡°Think of it as an opportunity! We can adapt to whatever the market needs.¡± Brakar pressed his fingers to his nose. ¡°You want us to sign a lease without knowing what we¡¯re going to sell.¡± ¡°I want us to look at the space,¡± Thadan corrected. ¡°Just look. No commitments. What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡± Those words should have been a warning¡ªthey¡¯d preceded some of their most spectacular disasters in the past. But something felt different this time. Perhaps it was the way Thadan had conceded their adventuring days were over, along with the surprising notion of addressing practical concerns like rent. ¡°Fine,¡± Brakar conceded. ¡°We can look.¡± ¡°Perfect!¡± Thadan was already on his feet. ¡°You won¡¯t regret this!¡± ¡°I already do.¡± But he followed his friend down The Stack¡¯s winding stairs and out into the gradually awakening city. Ironweave was different at this hour¡ªthe famous bridges caught the early light like strands of spiderweb, while the morning mist softened the stark lines of the architecture. Market stalls were just beginning to set up, their owners calling quiet greetings to each other in a dozen different languages. Thadan led them through increasingly narrow streets, where the bridges overhead created a permanent twilight even in full daylight. The buildings here showed their age more openly¡ªcrumbling stonework patched with whatever materials had been available, windows clouded with years of grime. Yet there were signs of life everywhere: window boxes full of hardy herbs, children¡¯s toys left out on doorsteps, the smell of breakfast cooking from a hundred tiny kitchens. They turned down an alley that seemed barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, then emerged suddenly into a small square. A dried-up fountain occupied the center, its basin currently serving as an impromptu meeting spot for a group of elderly dwarves playing cards. The surrounding shops had that distinctly desperate look Brakar associated with businesses barely hanging on¡ªfaded signs, dusty windows, inventory that hadn¡¯t changed in years. ¡°Here we are!¡± Thadan announced, gesturing grandly at what appeared to be an abandoned storefront. Brakar took in the cracked windows, the peeling paint, the ominous water stains around the foundation. ¡°It¡¯s... exactly what I expected.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the beauty of it!¡± Thadan fiddled with the rusty lock. ¡°No one else can see the potential!¡± ¡°I¡¯m starting to suspect that¡¯s because there isn¡¯t any.¡± But he followed his friend inside anyway, ducking under a cobweb that looked sturdy enough to qualify as architecture. The interior was surprisingly spacious, though currently occupied mainly by dust and what appeared to be several generations of abandoned furniture. ¡°Look at these bones!¡± Thadan swept his arm around, disturbing years of accumulated grime. ¡°High ceilings, good natural light once we clean the windows, plenty of storage space...¡± ¡°Possible rat infestation,¡± Brakar noted, spotting telltale signs along the baseboards. ¡°Easy fix! We get a cat. Doubles as a store mascot.¡± ¡°Water damage in the corner there.¡± ¡°Already talked to the landlord about it. He¡¯s willing to fix it as part of the lease agreement.¡± ¡°The floor¡¯s uneven.¡± ¡°Character! Besides, we can level it out with some basic carpentry.¡± Brakar turned to stare at his friend. ¡°You¡¯ve actually thought about these things.¡± ¡°Told you this was different.¡± Thadan¡¯s grin softened into something more serious. ¡°I know I usually just charge ahead without looking, but... I want this to work. Really work.¡± The sincerity in his voice was almost more unsettling than the shop¡¯s structural issues. Brakar started looking at the space with new eyes¡ªseeing past the current decay to what it could become. The main room was roughly rectangular, with large windows along the front that would indeed provide good light once cleaned. A solid wooden counter ran along one wall, its surface scarred but fundamentally sound. The back room was smaller but dry, with sturdy shelving already built into the walls. Thadan gestured toward the rear of the shop. ¡°We also have a back room,¡± he noted. ¡°Landlord says there¡¯s a proper cellar down there too. Good stone construction.¡± Brakar glanced toward the back room but made no move to enter. ¡°Anything in it?¡± ¡°Doubt it,¡± Thadan admitted. ¡°Said the last owner used it for storage, but no one¡¯s been down there in years.¡± He smirked. ¡°Could be full of treasure. Could be full of rats. The landlord even said it might connect to some of the old market tunnels, but they were sealed off years ago.¡± Brakar snorted. ¡°Tempting.¡± Thadan shrugged. ¡°At least it¡¯s there if we need it. This, though, will clean up nice.¡± Brakar¡¯s eye caught something metallic glinting in a dusty corner. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± They approached carefully¡ªletting go of habits was never easy¡ªbut it turned out to be nothing more sinister than an old strongbox, half-buried in debris. The lock was long since rusted away, but the box itself was still solid. ¡°Should we?¡± Thadan asked, already reaching for it. ¡°Probably not,¡± Brakar replied, already helping him lift it. The lid squeaked open to reveal... ledgers. Dozens of them, their pages yellow with age but still legible. Brakar picked one up at random, squinting at the faded handwriting. ¡°These are business records,¡± he realized. ¡°From the last shop that was here.¡± ¡°What kind of shop?¡± ¡°Hard to tell without better light, but...¡± Brakar traced the columns of neat figures. ¡°Whatever it was, they were doing well for a while. Then something happened.¡± ¡°What kind of something?¡± ¡°The numbers just... stop. Mid-page, mid-entry even.¡± He closed the ledger carefully. ¡°Like someone left in a hurry and never came back.¡± They both stared at the strongbox for a moment. ¡°Well,¡± Thadan said finally, ¡°that¡¯s not ominous at all.¡± ¡°Could be worse,¡± Brakar pointed out. ¡°Could be bloodstains.¡± ¡°Always the optimist.¡± But Thadan¡¯s smile had returned. ¡°Look at it this way¡ªwe already know what not to do.¡± ¡°Which would be more helpful if we knew what we were going to do in the first place. One last time¡ªwhat exactly are we going to sell here?¡± Thadan¡¯s grin stretched to dangerous proportions. ¡°We¡¯ll figure that out after we sign the lease!¡± And there it was¡ªthe familiar reckless enthusiasm that had led them into so many adventures, both glorious and disastrous. But something was different this time. The enthusiasm was tempered with actual planning, the recklessness balanced by genuine consideration of practical matters. Perhaps, Brakar realized, they¡¯d both changed more than they¡¯d noticed. The cistern disaster hadn¡¯t broken them¡ªit had forced them to grow. Thadan was still Thadan, with all his wild ideas and infectious optimism, but now he was actually thinking about consequences. And Brakar... Well, Brakar was seriously considering signing a lease for a shop with no clear purpose, based solely on his friend¡¯s enthusiasm and some dusty ledgers. Maybe he¡¯d changed too. The morning sun continued its slow invasion through the windows, gradually revealing new details: intricate tilework hidden under years of grime, surprisingly elegant moldings along the ceiling, the ghost of old signage barely visible on one wall. The space seemed to hold its breath, waiting for their decision. ¡°So,¡± Thadan said, his voice carrying that dangerous note of certainty that usually meant triumph or disaster, ¡°want to be business partners?¡± As Brakar opened his mouth to answer, a distinct scratching sound emerged from behind the walls¡ªtoo heavy, too deliberate to be rats. Both men froze, instincts honed by years of close calls and bad decisions kicking in. The sound drew closer, scraping and shuffling, accompanied by faint whispers¡ªor something trying very hard to sound like whispers. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The silence hung in the air, oppressive and unnerving. Brakar licked his lips, glancing nervously at the walls. ¡°About those sealed tunnels,¡± he said, his voice almost a whisper. ¡°Yes?¡± Thadan replied, still grinning, though his eyes flicked toward the source of the sound. ¡°How sure are we that they¡¯re actually sealed?¡± Thadan¡¯s grin didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Well, partner, looks like our first business decision might be investing in some better locks and a few good pest traps .¡± Brakar¡¯s brow furrowed, his fingers twitching at his sides as if wishing he had a weapon, or at least something heavy to throw. ¡°And if it starts again?¡± ¡°Then we deal with it. But for now, nothing¡¯s trying to eat us. Call it a win, partner.¡± The word partner lingered between them. Brakar stared at Thadan, then at the wall, then back at Thadan. His stomach churned with doubt, the kind of knot that had made him walk away from risk time and time again. He drew in a steady breath, rubbed the back of his neck, and shook his head. ¡°Screw it. Yeah, fine. Partners.¡± Chapter 5: A Desk for Success ¡°Thadan, are you sure about this?¡± Brakar eyed the towering shelves of cleaning supplies with growing concern. His friend had been methodically filling their shopping basket for the past twenty minutes, grabbing items with focused intensity usually seen in dungeon raids. ¡°We haven¡¯t even decided if we¡¯re taking the lease yet.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t hurt to be prepared,¡± Thadan replied, studying two different brands of floor polish with uncharacteristic concentration. ¡°Besides, proper planning prevents poor performance, right?¡± Brakar raised an eyebrow. ¡°Since when do you care about proper planning?¡± ¡°I¡¯m growing as a person.¡± Thadan tossed both bottles into the basket. ¡°Speaking of growth opportunities, what do you think about window cleaning? Regular or extra strength?¡± The general store stretched around them like a maze of practical possibilities. Brakar had passed it countless times on his way to The Six Spoons, but he¡¯d never ventured inside before. Now he found himself oddly fascinated by the sheer variety of mundane items on display. The shelves reached nearly to the ceiling, packed with everything from basic household supplies to specialized cleaning tools he couldn¡¯t even identify. The air carried a complex mixture of scents¡ªsoap, wood polish, fresh rope, and something vaguely metallic that reminded him of weapon oil. ¡°Extra strength,¡± he decided, watching Thadan add yet another item to their rapidly filling basket. ¡°Those windows haven¡¯t been cleaned in what looks like decades.¡± He paused, a thought occurring to him. ¡°But shouldn¡¯t we wait until after we¡¯ve actually signed the lease?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Thadan¡¯s permanent grin flickered slightly. ¡°About that.¡± Something in his tone made Brakar¡¯s stomach drop. ¡°Thadan.¡± ¡°Yes, partner?¡± ¡°What did you do?¡± Thadan suddenly became very interested in examining a display of mops. ¡°Nothing drastic.¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± ¡°Just a small administrative detail, really.¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± His friend finally turned to face him, still wearing that nervous grin. ¡°I may have already signed the lease.¡± The words hit Brakar like a physical blow. ¡°You what?¡± ¡°Signed the lease. Yesterday. Before showing you the place.¡± Thadan¡¯s words tumbled out faster now. ¡°But only because it was such a good deal! And I knew you¡¯d see the potential once you actually looked at it. Which you did!¡± Brakar¡¯s jaw worked silently for a moment. ¡°You signed a lease. Without consulting me. For a shop we don¡¯t even know what we¡¯re going to do with.¡± ¡°When you say it like that, it sounds bad.¡± ¡°It is bad!¡± ¡°Is it though?¡± Thadan was already moving again, pulling items off shelves with renewed enthusiasm. ¡°Think about it¡ªnow we¡¯re committed! No more wavering or second-guessing. We have to make it work!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how business decisions are supposed to work!¡± ¡°Maybe not,¡± Thadan conceded, ¡°but it¡¯s how we work. Remember the griffon egg incident?¡± ¡°You mean when you accepted a contract to retrieve one without checking if it was mating season?¡± ¡°Exactly! We had to figure it out on the spot, and we did! This is just like that, except with less aerial combat and angry parent monsters.¡± ¡°We nearly died.¡± ¡°But we didn¡¯t! And we learned valuable lessons about improvisation and teamwork.¡± Brakar squeezed the top of his nose, feeling a familiar headache building. ¡°This isn¡¯t some dungeon raid we can just power through. It¡¯s a business. With overhead. And taxes. And¡ª¡± He gestured at their overflowing basket. ¡°Expenses we can¡¯t afford!¡± ¡°Minor details,¡± Thadan waved dismissively. ¡°The important thing is...¡± He trailed off, his attention suddenly captured by something behind Brakar. ¡°Oh. Oh. Now that¡¯s interesting.¡± Brakar turned to follow his friend¡¯s gaze, already dreading whatever had caught his attention. To his surprise, it wasn¡¯t anything obviously dangerous or expensive¡ªjust a desk. But what a desk it was. The piece stood slightly apart from the store¡¯s other furniture, its craftsmanship immediately apparent even to Brakar¡¯s untrained eye. The wood had been worked with extraordinary care, each joint fitted so precisely it was almost invisible. The surface curved gently, like a leaf catching morning dew, while the legs descended in elegant spirals that somehow managed to look both organic and perfectly balanced. ¡°Is that...¡± Brakar squinted, recognition tickling at the back of his mind. ¡°Those patterns look like lizardfolk work.¡± ¡°Good eye,¡± a new voice commented, making them both jump in surprise. The speaker emerged from behind a nearby shelf¡ªa tall lizardman whose copper-colored scales bore the telltale marks of long experience with woodworking. His craftsman¡¯s clothes had been carefully modified to accommodate his tail, and despite his imposing size, he moved with surprising grace through the crowded aisles. ¡°Kip Rustworth,¡± he introduced himself with a slight bow. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but notice your interest in the desk.¡± ¡°It¡¯s beautiful work,¡± Thadan said, already circling the piece like a prospector who¡¯d just found gold. ¡°The way the grain flows through the curves... And these inlays along the edges...¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Kip replied, his pleasure at the genuine appreciation evident in his voice. ¡°It¡¯s always gratifying when someone notices the details.¡± Brakar watched with growing concern as Thadan ran a reverent hand along the desk¡¯s surface. He recognized that look¡ªit was the same one his friend got right before making impulse purchases that inevitably led to interesting times. ¡°How much?¡± Thadan asked, confirming Brakar¡¯s fears. ¡°Ah.¡± Kip¡¯s expression grew a bit apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t actually sell it to you¡ªI only made the piece. I don¡¯t work here.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s perfect!¡± Thadan protested. ¡°It would look amazing in our shop! Right by the window, where the light would hit those curves just right...¡± ¡°Our theoretical shop,¡± Brakar interjected quickly. ¡°Which we¡¯re still just considering.¡± Kip¡¯s head tilted slightly. ¡°Would this be the location at 8 Merchant¡¯s End?¡± Both men stared at him. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear,¡± Kip explained, gesturing to his distinctly non-human ears. ¡°The acoustics in here are quite interesting.¡± Brakar shot Thadan a look that could have stripped paint. ¡°We¡¯re considering doing something at that location,¡± he said carefully, emphasizing the word ¡®considering¡¯ with enough force to make Thadan wince. ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Kip nodded sagely, though something in his tone suggested he wasn¡¯t entirely convinced. ¡°Well, should you decide you need any furniture¡ªdesks or otherwise¡ªyou know where to find me. Or rather, where to find my work.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Brakar said firmly, already steering Thadan back toward the cleaning supplies. ¡°We¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± Thadan started to protest. ¡°No desk.¡± ¡°What if¡ª¡± ¡°No desk.¡± They returned to their abandoned basket, which somehow looked even more overfull than before. Brakar picked it up with a grunt¡ªapparently cleaning supplies were heavier than adventuring gear. ¡°We should probably get started on actually cleaning the place,¡± he said, pointedly ignoring Thadan¡¯s longing glances back at the desk. ¡°Since you¡¯ve already committed us to it.¡± ¡°Right! Yes! Cleaning!¡± Thadan¡¯s enthusiasm returned, though Brakar noticed he kept sneaking looks over his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll make it shine like a dragon¡¯s hoard! Though you have to admit, that desk would look amazing in the front window...¡± ¡°No desk,¡± Brakar repeated, heading for the counter. ¡°Let¡¯s just pay for all this and get started. It¡¯s going to be a long day.¡± As they approached the counter, Brakar couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something about their interaction with Kip had been odd. The lizardfolk had seemed almost too interested in their plans¡ªor lack thereof. But before he could pursue that thought, Thadan was already launching into an elaborate explanation of why they needed yet another type of polish, and Brakar¡¯s attention was fully occupied with damage control.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. The morning sun had risen higher by the time they finally emerged from the store, laden with enough cleaning supplies to stock a small warehouse. Brakar adjusted his grip on the heavy bags, already dreading the walk to their newly-leased shop. Their shop. The thought still felt strange, like wearing someone else¡¯s boots. He glanced at Thadan, who was practically bouncing with excitement despite carrying twice as many bags. ¡°You signed the lease without telling me,¡± he said, more statement than question. ¡°I really did!¡± Thadan grinned. ¡°And you¡¯re really going to be my partner! Because deep down, under all that practical, sensible exterior, I know you¡¯re just as curious as I am to see what happens next.¡± Brakar started to argue, but stopped himself. Because the most infuriating thing about Thadan wasn¡¯t his reckless decisions or his unshakeable optimism. It was how often he was right. ¡°Let¡¯s just go clean our shop,¡± Brakar sighed, already wondering what he was getting himself into. ¡°Partner.¡± **** ¡°If we keep the inventory along this wall, we could fit double the shelving.¡± ¡°Assuming we figure out what we¡¯re selling first.¡± A sharp clatter rang out as Thadan adjusted whatever contraption he was working with. ¡°Details.¡± Something rattled, followed by Thadan¡¯s muffled curse. ¡°How¡¯s the ledger coming?¡± ¡°Slowly. Your handwriting isn¡¯t helping.¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong with my handwriting?¡± ¡°The letter ¡®a¡¯ shouldn¡¯t look like it¡¯s trying to escape the page.¡± Thadan emerged briefly, hair dusted with what looked suspiciously like rust. ¡°I was in a hurry.¡± ¡°You wrote this yesterday.¡± ¡°I¡¯m always in a hurry.¡± He disappeared back into the contraption. ¡°It¡¯s part of my charm.¡± ¡°Is that what we¡¯re calling it now?¡± A series of metallic clicks followed. ¡°You know, you could help instead of sitting there judging my penmanship.¡± ¡°Someone has to keep track of how much you¡¯re spending on ¡®essential improvements.¡¯¡± ¡°That door lock was essential!¡± ¡°It shoots sparks at people.¡± ¡°Exactly! Essential.¡± Brakar shuffled through another stack of papers. ¡°You know we can¡¯t afford any more improvements this month, right? Or any month until we actually generate some coin.¡± ¡°This one¡¯s different. More of an optimization, really.¡± A pause, followed by the sharp scrape of something being forcibly shifted. ¡°Besides, it came with the building. I¡¯m just making it better.¡± Thadan vanished further into whatever he was working on, his legs sticking out at an improbable angle. More clanking followed, then a sound like something important coming loose. ¡°Need help?¡± ¡°Nope! All under control. Completely fine. Though, uh... what are your thoughts on water damage?¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± ¡°Just asking!¡± Brakar slid off the counter, moving closer to inspect whatever disaster was unfolding. He found Thadan surrounded by parts. Brakar watched with irritation as Thadan struggled with what had to be the simplest cleaning implement ever devised by mortal hands. The mop handle lay in pieces across the floor while his friend fumbled with the bucket¡¯s wringer mechanism as if it were some ancient puzzle box. ¡°Are you sure this goes here?¡± Thadan held up what was clearly the mop head, examining it from various angles like a scholar studying a mysterious artifact. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool breeze drifting through the shop¡¯s shattered panes. ¡°Because I¡¯m thinking if we just¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s a mop, Thadan.¡± Brakar pressed his thumb and forefinger to his nose, counting slowly to ten. ¡°You¡¯ve seen people use them before. You¡¯ve watched the tavern staff clean up after your drinking contests.¡± ¡°Yes, but that was different! They made it look easy.¡± Thadan attempted to attach the mop head, somehow managing to tangle the strings around both the handle and his own wrist. ¡°These things are deceptively complex. Like a puzzle, but wet. And stringy.¡± The shop¡¯s interior seemed to mock their cleaning aspirations. Dust swirled in the hazy light filtering through the cracks, exposing every cobweb and water stain. The wooden floors, which may have been beautiful once, now bore the scars of years of neglect. Empty shelves lined the walls, their surfaces thick with grime so ancient that suggested small civilizations might have evolved there. ¡°And what about these?¡± Thadan had already abandoned the mop in favor of examining their collection of cleaning solutions. ¡°Which one do we use first? This one says it¡¯s for wood, but also stone, but not if the stone is marble, unless it¡¯s Tuesday...¡± He squinted at the label. ¡°Is it Tuesday?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Saturday.¡± Brakar moved to rescue the mop before it could become even more tangled. ¡°And we don¡¯t need to worry about marble. There isn¡¯t any marble in here.¡± ¡°Are you sure? That corner looks suspiciously marblesque.¡± ¡°That¡¯s mold.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Thadan brightened. ¡°So we need the anti-mold solution! Which is...¡± He began rummaging through their supplies again. ¡°The green bottle? No, wait, that¡¯s for windows. The blue one? No, that¡¯s for... actually, I¡¯m not sure what that¡¯s for.¡± Something scratched inside the walls¡ªprobably rats, though after their recent adventure in the cistern, Brakar wasn¡¯t taking anything for granted. He made a mental note to set some normal-sized traps later. Very normal-sized. For very normal-sized rats. ¡°Just pick a bottle,¡± he said, successfully untangling the mop strings. ¡°Any bottle. They¡¯ll all clean things. That¡¯s literally their entire purpose.¡± ¡°But what if we use the wrong one? What if the floor polish reacts badly with the baseboards? What if¡ª¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Cut it out.¡± ¡°Cut what out?¡± ¡°This.¡± Brakar gestured at the chaos of cleaning supplies surrounding them. ¡°You¡¯re not actually confused by how cleaning works. You¡¯ve cleaned your weapons hundreds of times. You know how to maintain equipment. You¡¯re just stalling.¡± ¡°I am not!¡± Thadan protested, though his grin took on a slightly guilty edge. ¡°I¡¯m being thorough! Professional! Like a proper businessman should be!¡± ¡°You¡¯re being ridiculous.¡± Brakar assembled the mop with quick, efficient movements. ¡°We need to ?clean this place, not just talk about cleaning it. Unless you want to explain to the landlord why their property value dropped even further after we moved in.¡± ¡°Fair point.¡± Thadan picked up a random bottle, then immediately set it down again. ¡°But shouldn¡¯t we make a plan first? Map out our cleaning strategy? Maybe draw up some diagrams?¡± ¡°The plan is to clean. The strategy is to use cleaning supplies. To clean things.¡± Brakar thrust the assembled mop into Thadan¡¯s hands. ¡°Start with the floors. I¡¯ll tackle the windows. Try not to get tangled again.¡± ¡°Your faith in me is touching.¡± Thadan examined the mop as if expecting it to suddenly sprout teeth. ¡°But are you sure we shouldn¡¯t¡ª¡± The creak of floorboards from the front of the shop cut him off mid-sentence. Both men froze, years of adventuring instincts kicking in. Brakar¡¯s hand went to where his staff usually rested, finding only a feather duster. Thadan had already shifted into a fighting stance, wielding the mop like a quarterstaff. Footsteps approached¡ªheavy ones, accompanied by the sound of something being dragged. Brakar¡¯s mind raced through possibilities. Thugs? Rival merchants? The landlord coming to check on them? Or something worse¡ªthe scratching in the walls had gotten louder lately... A familiar voice called out. ¡°Hello? I hope I¡¯m not interrupting anything important.¡± Kip Rustworth¡¯s impressive frame filled the doorway, made even more imposing by the large object he was carefully maneuvering through it. Brakar blinked, his brain taking a moment to process what he was seeing. It was the desk. The beautiful, impossibly well-crafted desk from the store. ¡°Mr. Rustworth?¡± Thadan lowered the mop, though he kept a suspicious grip on it. ¡°What are you...?¡± ¡°Please, just Kip.¡± The lizardfolk guided the desk into the shop. ¡°And I hope you don¡¯t mind the intrusion. I thought perhaps your establishment could use a proper piece of furniture to start with.¡± Brakar found his voice. ¡°We can¡¯t afford¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not selling it.¡± Kip¡¯s expression was hard to read, but his voice carried a warm note of amusement. ¡°Consider it a welcome gift. A contribution to the neighborhood¡¯s improvement, if you will.¡± ¡°But... why?¡± Thadan had completely forgotten about the mop now, letting it clatter to the floor. Kip carefully positioned the desk near one of the windows, where the light caught its curves perfectly, just as Thadan predicted. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I have a good feeling about this venture of yours. Sometimes a place just needs the right people to bring it back to life.¡± He ran a scaled hand along the desk. ¡°Besides, this piece... it never quite felt at home in that store. Too impersonal. But here? I think it fits.¡± He wasn¡¯t wrong. Despite the shop¡¯s current state¡ªor perhaps because of it¡ªthe desk seemed to anchor the space. Its organic curves and warm wood tones somehow made the rest of the room look less decrepit and more... promising. ¡°We can¡¯t accept¡ª¡± Brakar started, but Kip held up a hand. ¡°You can, and you will.¡± The lizardfolk¡¯s voice was firm but kind. ¡°Consider it an investment in the neighborhood¡¯s future. And perhaps...¡± His tail swished slightly, an expression Brakar had learned to read as amusement. ¡°Perhaps when you decide what kind of establishment this will be, you¡¯ll remember where your first piece of furniture came from.¡± Before either of them could protest further, Kip gave them a slight bow and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. ¡°Oh, and a piece of advice? That green bottle you were debating earlier? It¡¯s actually for copper fixtures. The blue one is what you want for the floors.¡± With that, he was gone, leaving Brakar and Thadan staring at the desk that had somehow materialized in their shop. Their actual shop, which they now apparently owned actual furniture for. ¡°Well,¡± Thadan said after a long moment. ¡°That was...¡± ¡°Unexpected?¡± ¡°I was going to say ¡®amazing,¡¯ but yes, that too.¡± He approached the desk reverently, running a hand along its surface. ¡°Do you think he planned this? From the moment he saw us in the store?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Brakar picked up the blue bottle Kip had mentioned. ¡°He seems like the type to play a long game.¡± ¡°Should we be worried about that?¡± ¡°Not sure.¡± They both contemplated the desk for another moment. It really did look perfect there, catching the light just so, making the whole space feel more real somehow. More purposeful. ¡°We should start cleaning now,¡± Brakar said finally. ¡°Perhaps,¡± Thadan agreed, then grinned. ¡°But first, don¡¯t you think we should rearrange all our supplies on this magnificent new desk? Really break it in properly?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Floor first.¡± Brakar tossed him the blue bottle. ¡°Then windows. Then maybe, if you actually help instead of just talking about helping, we can organize things on the desk.¡± ¡°You drive a hard bargain, partner.¡± Thadan retrieved the fallen mop, managing to keep it mostly untangled this time. ¡°But I suppose that¡¯s why I signed that lease without saying a word to you first.¡± ¡°That makes absolutely no sense.¡± ¡°Sure it does! You¡¯re the practical one, I¡¯m the visionary one. Together we make one competent businessman!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how business works.¡± ¡°How would you know? We¡¯ve been businessmen for less than a day.¡± Brakar began to say something, then thought better of it. Because really, what could he say to that? Instead, he turned his attention to the windows, pretending not to notice Thadan¡¯s triumphant grin. The scratching in the walls had gone quiet, as if whatever lived there was also contemplating their strange situation. Brakar reminded himself to set those traps soon. Very soon. But first, they had a shop to clean. A real shop, with real furniture, even if they still had no idea what they were going to do with it. One crisis at a time, Brakar thought, attacking a particularly stubborn patch of grime. And probably a lot more furniture than we bargained for. Behind him, Thadan had managed to create more puddles than clean floor, but he was humming happily as he worked. Brakar surveyed the cluttered shop, and for a moment¡ªjust a moment¡ªhe could almost see what their shop might become. Assuming, of course, that whatever was in the walls didn¡¯t eat them first. Chapter 6: The Backroom Brakar paused in the doorway, letting himself appreciate how the freshly-cleaned windows transformed the space. Yesterday¡¯s marathon cleaning session had stretched well past sunset, until every surface gleamed and even the most stubborn cobwebs had admitted defeat. The wooden counter, freed from decades of grime, revealed surprisingly elegant grain patterns. Even the old floorboards had cleaned up nicely, though they still creaked in protest whenever anyone walked near the center of the room. Their celebration had been modest¡ªthe cheapest stew The Six Spoons offered, without even their usual ale to wash it down. They¡¯d spent hours at their usual corner table, tossing around business ideas that felt increasingly desperate. A weapon shop? Too much competition. Armor repair? Neither of them knew the first thing about metalworking. Magical supplies? The licensing alone would eat through their meager savings. Each suggestion had felt more forced than the last, until they were just stating random objects and adding ¡°...shop?¡± after them. But Thadan had remained maddeningly optimistic. ¡°Stop trying so hard,¡± he¡¯d said, gesturing with his water cup as if it contained something far more expensive. ¡°When it hits us, we¡¯ll know. It¡¯ll be like that time you figured out how to calm that mimic in the cistern¡ªsometimes you just have to let the right answer find you.¡± Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like empty reassurance. From Thadan, it somehow felt like a prophecy. This morning¡¯s errand¡ªreturning an overdue stack of healing texts to the library¡ªhad given Brakar too much time to think. Each step had reminded him of their dwindling savings, of all the ways this venture could go wrong, of how completely unprepared they were for legitimate business ownership. But now, standing in their impeccably clean front room (salesroom, his mind supplied helpfully, trying to learn the proper terminology), he felt an unexpected surge of pride. They might not know what they were doing, but at least they were doing it thoroughly. Today they would tackle the back room, and then their establishment would be ready to sell... whatever it was they eventually decided to sell. He snorted at the thought. At least their nonexistent inventory wouldn¡¯t require much storage space. The backroom¡¯s door creaked in protest as Brakar pushed it open, unleashing a wave of musty air that made him want to sneeze. Decades of neglect had transformed what should have been simple storage space into an archaeological dig site. Boxes and crates formed precarious towers that seemed to defy gravity. Cobwebs stretched between them like ancient tapestries, their creators long since retired or deceased. The air carried the stillness of abandonment, while faint movements in the corner sent eerie shadows dancing across the debris-strewn floor. ¡°Well,¡± Thadan said cheerfully, peering over Brakar¡¯s shoulder, ¡°at least we know where all the dust from the front room went to hide.¡± Brakar snorted. ¡°Probably plotting its revenge.¡± He took a tentative step inside, testing the floorboards. They creaked but held firm. ¡°At least the floor seems solid. Unlike your plan for what we¡¯re actually going to sell in this place.¡± ¡°Details, details.¡± Thadan squeezed past him, already reaching for the nearest pile of boxes. ¡°First we clean, then we organize, then inspiration strikes! That¡¯s how these things work.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how anything works.¡± But Thadan was already in full exploration mode, attacking the nearest stack of boxes with the enthusiasm of a child unwrapping festival gifts. The first box disintegrated as soon as he touched it, spraying ancient packing material across the floor. The second held what might have once been fabric samples, now serving as a rather posh retirement home for several generations of moths. ¡°Look at this!¡± Thadan held up something that looked like a ledger before time and moisture had their way with it. ¡°Records from... I think that says ¡®Import/Export.¡¯ Or possibly ¡®Important Eggs.¡¯ The ink¡¯s a bit smudged.¡± Brakar carefully picked his way through the debris, keeping one eye on the ceiling. Years of adventuring had taught him that anywhere this dusty usually contained at least one nest of something unpleasant. ¡°Just be careful what you touch. Some of these boxes look ready to collapse if you breathe on them wrong.¡± ¡°You worry too much.¡± Thadan dug elbow-deep into another crate. ¡°Besides, we need to know what we¡¯re dealing with. Could be valuable antiques in here! Historical artifacts! Ancient treasures!¡± ¡°Rat droppings, mostly.¡± Brakar picked up a broken chair leg, examining the teeth marks. ¡°Very large rat droppings.¡± The room seemed to stretch back farther than it should have, given the building¡¯s exterior dimensions. Shadows pooled in the corners despite the light, and something about the way the boxes were stacked suggested a pattern¡ªas if someone had deliberately created this maze of debris. Or something had. Thadan, oblivious to such concerns, continued his archaeological expedition with undiminished enthusiasm. ¡°Hey, some of these shipping labels are still readable! Looks like this place used to import... spices? No, wait, that¡¯s not right. Unless ¡®dangerous reagents¡¯ is some kind of fancy cooking term.¡± ¡°Wonderful.¡± Brakar examined a suspicious stain on one wall. ¡°So we¡¯re cleaning up after failed alchemists. That explains the smell.¡± ¡°Adventure opportunity!¡± Thadan declared, wasting no time as he strode toward another pile. ¡°Maybe they left behind some valuable formulas! Or rare ingredients! Or¡ª¡± ¡°Or highly unstable experiments that have been fermenting for decades?¡± ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a bad thing.¡± Brakar was about to point out exactly how many ways that could be a bad thing when something caught his attention. A slight movement in the corner of his eye, gone almost before he could register it. He turned slowly, scanning the room¡¯s deeper shadows. ¡°Thadan.¡± ¡°Mm?¡± His friend was now attempting to extract what appeared to be a mummified plant from another box. ¡°When you signed the lease, did anyone mention anything about... previous tenants?¡± ¡°Just that the last owner left suddenly.¡± Thadan gave the plant one final tug, succeeding only in creating another cloud of dust. ¡°Something about ¡®pursuing other opportunities.¡¯ Why?¡± ¡°Because I don¡¯t think all of these boxes were arranged by people.¡± That got Thadan¡¯s attention. He straightened up, years of adventuring instincts finally kicking in. ¡°What kind of not-people are we talking about?¡± ¡°The kind that likes dark corners and abandoned storage rooms.¡± Brakar took a careful step backward. ¡°The kind that sometimes pretends to be something they¡¯re not.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Thadan¡¯s hand instinctively reached for his sword¡¯s usual spot, only to grasp the same mop he had used earlier. ¡°That kind.¡± They both stood very still, suddenly aware of how the room¡¯s shadows seemed to shift and writhe when viewed directly. The piles of boxes no longer looked quite so random¡ªin fact, they formed something almost like a funnel, leading deeper into the room¡¯s recesses. ¡°Right,¡± Thadan said after a moment. ¡°New plan. We clean this place with fire.¡± ¡°That¡¯s your solution to everything.¡± ¡°Name one time it hasn¡¯t worked.¡± ¡°The griffon nest?¡± ¡°Okay, two times.¡± ¡°The haunted library?¡± ¡°That barely counts! The books were already on fire when we got there.¡± Their banter, automatic after years of partnership, helped steady Brakar¡¯s nerves. He scanned the room again, this time with professional attention to detail. The dust patterns on the floor showed clear signs of recent movement¡ªtoo regular to be rats, too deliberate to be natural settling. And some of the boxes... ¡°They¡¯re herding us,¡± he realized aloud. Thadan, who had been edging toward the door, paused. ¡°What?¡± ¡°The box arrangements. Look at the pattern¡ªthey¡¯re creating paths, funneling anyone who comes in toward specific points.¡± Brakar gestured at the seemingly random piles. ¡°Classic mimic hunting behavior. They work together to guide prey into traps.¡± ¡°Mimics don¡¯t hunt in packs,¡± Thadan protested. ¡°Everyone knows that.¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s wrong.¡± Brakar took another careful step back. ¡°They¡¯re actually quite social. They just don¡¯t usually get the chance to establish proper colonies because people keep killing them on sight.¡± ¡°And you know this because...?¡± ¡°I read.¡± ¡°Of course you do.¡± Thadan was now holding the feather duster like a weapon, which would have been comical under other circumstances. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan? Besides fire, I mean.¡± Before Brakar could say anything, a sound cut through the musty air¡ªwood scraping against wood, but with an organic quality that made his skin crawl. Something was moving in the deeper shadows, something large enough to stir the stale air and scatter the cobwebs in the wan sunlight. ¡°Hold very still,¡± Brakar whispered. ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning on moving.¡± Thadan¡¯s voice had taken on the tight quality it got when he was trying not to panic. ¡°But maybe we should¡ª¡± The rest of his sentence was lost as several things happened at once. A stack of boxes near the back of the room collapsed, revealing a massive wooden chest that definitely hadn¡¯t been there a moment ago. The chest¡¯s surface gleamed with an unnatural sheen, its brass fittings catching the light despite decades of supposed neglect. And most tellingly, it sat perfectly centered in the clearing created by the fallen boxes, its lid slightly ajar in what Brakar could only describe as an inviting manner.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Oh,¡± Thadan breathed, his eyes lighting up with the exact wrong kind of interest. ¡°Now that¡¯s interesting.¡± ¡°Thadan, no.¡± ¡°But look at it! Those brass fittings alone must be worth¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s a mimic.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡± ¡°I very much do know that.¡± But Thadan was already moving forward, drawn by the chest¡¯s siren song of possible treasure. All thoughts of danger had evaporated in the face of potential profit, which Brakar might have found admirable if it wasn¡¯t so consistently lethal. ¡°Think about it,¡± Thadan said, edging closer to the chest. ¡°If this place was really infested with mimics, why would the landlord have rented it to us? They¡¯d have mentioned something like that in the lease!¡± ¡°Did you actually read the lease?¡± ¡°I skimmed it!¡± Thadan was now close enough to touch the chest. ¡°The important parts, anyway. Like the part about how much it cost. And the part where I sign.¡± ¡°So not the part about pre-existing occupants?¡± ¡°Details!¡± Thadan reached for the chest¡¯s lid. ¡°Besides, look how normal it is! Just a regular, ordinary treasure chest that someone obviously abandoned in their haste to leave. Their loss, our gain!¡± Brakar watched with a mixture of resignation and morbid fascination as his friend grabbed the chest¡¯s lid. Years of adventuring together had taught him that some lessons could only be learned the hard way. Besides, he had a feeling about how this particular lesson was going to play out. The lid opened smoothly, without even a creak¡ªwhich should have been the final warning sign. Thadan peered inside, his face lit with anticipation. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything...¡± he muttered, leaning further in. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a false bottom? Or a hidden compartment? Or¡ª¡± The chest¡¯s transformation from inanimate object to very animate predator was almost too fast to follow. One moment Thadan was peering into its depths, the next he was yanked forward as the ¡°lid¡± revealed itself to be an impressive set of teeth. A long, surprisingly dexterous tongue wrapped around his torso, and the whole thing snapped shut with a wet sound that would have been comical if it wasn¡¯t so alarming. ¡°Mmmph!¡± Thadan¡¯s muffled voice emerged from within the mimic¡¯s maw. ¡°Mmph mmph mmph!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what was that?¡± Brakar crossed his arms, making no move to help. ¡°I couldn¡¯t quite hear you over the sound of being exactly right about this being a mimic.¡± More muffled protests emerged, accompanied by what sounded like creative cursing. The mimic made a sound that was likely a chuckle. ¡°You know,¡± Brakar continued conversationally, ¡°for someone who¡¯s been adventuring for years, you¡¯d think you¡¯d have learned to recognize the signs by now. The too-perfect placement? The suspicious shine on the brass? The complete lack of dust despite being in a room that hasn¡¯t seen a broom in decades?¡± ¡°Mmph mph!¡± ¡°Not to mention the fact that treasure chests don¡¯t typically just appear in abandoned storerooms. I mean, really. What did you think was going to happen?¡± The mimic seemed to tremble. Brakar could swear it was laughing. He sighed, finally taking pity on his friend¡¯s situation. ¡°Alright, alright. Hold still¡ªboth of you.¡± He raised his hands, beginning the familiar gestures of a basic communication spell. But as always, something in his magical essence caused the words to come out slightly wrong, the arcane syllables twisting into shapes that would have made his old teachers wince. Instead of the clear, precise tones most mages used, his spell emerged with what could only be described as an accent¡ªas if the magic itself was speaking in dialect. To his relief (but not surprise), the mimic appeared to acknowledge him, its grip on Thadan easing just a little. ¡°There we go,¡± Brakar said soothingly, maintaining the spell¡¯s awkward cadence. ¡°No need for eating. Friend here. Just exploring. Very chewy anyway.¡± The mimic emitted a low, rumbling vibration that suggested consideration, then slowly opened its maw. Thadan tumbled out, covered in what appeared to be magical saliva, but otherwise unharmed. ¡°That,¡± he declared, wiping slime from his face, ¡°was unnecessary.¡± ¡°Was it though?¡± Brakar continued the odd magical conversation with their new acquaintance. ¡°Good mimic. Nice mimic. Want to be furniture instead? Much more comfortable.¡± The creature¡¯s surface rippled one final time, and then it began to change. The chest¡¯s form melted and flowed like wax, reshaping itself into something new. Within moments, a perfectly ordinary-looking chair stood where the chest had been¡ªthough Brakar noticed it had maintained the same rich wood tones and brass accents, just in more appropriate places. ¡°Show-off,¡± Thadan muttered, still trying to wring slime out of his shirt. Brakar settled into the chair-that-wasn¡¯t-really-a-chair, sighing with theatrical exhaustion. ¡°You know, this is actually quite comfortable. Much better than being eaten, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°I hate you both.¡± ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡± Brakar patted the mimic¡¯s arm rest appreciatively. ¡°And now that we¡¯ve sorted out the whole eating-versus-not-eating situation, we should probably get back to cleaning. This place isn¡¯t going to organize itself.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sitting on a monster that just tried to eat me, and you want to discuss cleaning schedules?¡± ¡°Would you prefer to discuss how you didn¡¯t read the lease properly? Or how about your amazing treasure-hunting instincts?¡± Thadan threw up his hands, splattering more magical slime across the floor. ¡°Fine! Fine. We¡¯ll clean. But I¡¯m not turning my back on that thing.¡± ¡°Perfectly reasonable,¡± Brakar agreed. ¡°Though I should point out that there are at least three more mimics in here watching us right now.¡± ¡°What?!¡± ¡°Oh yes. See that bookshelf in the corner? And that cabinet? And I¡¯m pretty sure that mirror isn¡¯t really attached to anything.¡± Thadan¡¯s head whipped around, taking in the furniture pieces Brakar had indicated. Now that it had been pointed out, their too-perfect positioning was obvious. Each piece sat just so, creating clear sightlines to the room¡¯s entrance while maintaining easy access to shadow. ¡°So we¡¯ve been in a room full of mimics this entire time?¡± ¡°Technically, we¡¯re in their room.¡± Brakar gave his chair-mimic another pat. ¡°They were here first, after all.¡± ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to mention this earlier?¡± ¡°I did mention it. Several times. You were too busy looking for treasure.¡± Thadan slumped against a nearby wall, then thought better of it and stood up straight again. ¡°So what do we do now? We can¡¯t exactly run a shop with a backroom full of carnivorous furniture.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Brakar shifted slightly, and the mimic adjusted its shape to provide better lumbar support. ¡°They¡¯re clearly intelligent, they understand basic communication, and they haven¡¯t actually hurt anyone. Well, aside from trying to eat you, but you did basically invite that.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± ¡°I¡¯m always serious.¡± Brakar stood up, and the mimic smoothly reverted to its chair form. ¡°Besides, think about it¡ªwhat better security system could we ask for? No one¡¯s going to rob a shop where the furniture bites back.¡± Thadan looked ready to argue, but hesitated. Brakar could practically see the gears turning in his head as he considered the possibilities. ¡°They would be cheaper than hiring guards,¡± he said slowly. ¡°And more reliable.¡± ¡°And they don¡¯t need salaries.¡± ¡°Just the occasional snack, I imagine.¡± Brakar glanced at the other mimics, which had dropped all pretense of being inanimate and were now openly watching the conversation. ¡°Though we should probably establish some ground rules about not eating customers.¡± ¡°Or business partners,¡± Thadan added pointedly. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can work something out.¡± Brakar turned to address the room at large, letting his magical accent color his words. ¡°What do you say? Want to be part of a legitimate business venture? Much more interesting than lurking in storage rooms.¡± The shimmering skin of each mimic pulsed in unison¡ªa gesture their prey often mistook for acceptance. Fatal mistake. ¡°Right then!¡± Thadan¡¯s natural enthusiasm was already reasserting itself. ¡°New plan: we clean this place up, establish clear boundaries with our furniture-shaped friends, and figure out what kind of business can benefit from having a backroom full of shape-shifting predators!¡± ¡°That¡¯s... actually not a terrible idea,¡± Brakar admitted. ¡°Of course it¡¯s not! I¡¯m full of not-terrible ideas!¡± Thadan paused. ¡°Though maybe we don¡¯t mention this particular feature in our marketing materials.¡± ¡°Wise.¡± They spent the next few minutes in companionable silence, surveying their new domain. With the mimics now openly acknowledging their presence, the space felt less threatening and more... cozy. In an extremely dangerous sort of way. ¡°We should probably start with the actual cleaning,¡± Brakar said finally. ¡°Assuming our new friends don¡¯t mind us disturbing their habitat?¡± The bookshelf-mimic shifted slightly, adjusting its shelves in what was likely permission. The others followed suit, each moving to create clear paths through the debris. ¡°Well then.¡± Thadan retrieved their cleaning supplies from where they¡¯d dropped them earlier. ¡°Let¡¯s make this place presentable! Though I have to ask...¡± He glanced at Brakar¡¯s chair-mimic. ¡°Are you planning to supervise while sitting on a predator the whole time?¡± ¡°I might.¡± Brakar settled back into the surprisingly comfortable chair. ¡°Someone has to make sure you don¡¯t try to open any more suspicious containers.¡± ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon.¡± ¡°By the way, before you get too enthusiastic about our cleaning operation, there¡¯s something you need to know.¡± Brakar shifted in his living chair, which adjusted obligingly to his posture. ¡°The mimics have been... communicating with me. About the cellar.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Thadan¡¯s hand froze halfway to a fallen brush. ¡°Let me guess¡ªmore furniture-shaped friends down there?¡± ¡°One. But not the friendly sort.¡± Brakar¡¯s expression grew serious. ¡°They¡¯re quite insistent about it, actually. Whatever¡¯s down there¡ªit¡¯s powerful. Dangerous. The kind of mimic that makes other mimics nervous.¡± The bookshelf-mimic¡¯s exterior seemed to ripple in confirmation. ¡°How powerful are we talking about?¡± Thadan was already moving toward the cellar door, because of course he was. ¡°Powerful enough that you absolutely should not open that door to check.¡± Brakar sighed as his friend reached for the handle anyway. ¡°Which is exactly what you¡¯re about to do.¡± The door creaked open just enough for Thadan to peer into the darkness below. The stale air that wafted up carried a scent that was distinctly wrong¡ªnot just the usual cellar mustiness, but something older, hungrier. Thadan closed the door with deliberate care. ¡°Right. So. That¡¯s not something we can handle on our own.¡± ¡°Finally, a sensible reaction to danger.¡± ¡°We need Mira and Pockets.¡± ¡°And there it goes.¡± ¡°No, think about it!¡± Thadan¡¯s eyes had that dangerous gleam that usually preceded either brilliance or disaster. ¡°Mira¡¯s archery skills, Pockets¡¯ devices¡ªthey¡¯d be perfect for this! And they¡¯d want to know about the mimics anyway.¡± Brakar considered it. ¡°You may have a point. For once.¡± ¡°Could you use your mimic-speaking thing on it? Talk it into being less murderous?¡± ¡°Not directly. Something that powerful¡ªit would take time. Preparation.¡± Brakar glanced at their furniture allies. ¡°I¡¯d need help keeping it distracted while I work the magic. The type of help that might come from, say, an expert archer and an enthusiastic artificer.¡± ¡°So we¡¯re agreed?¡± Thadan was practically bouncing now. ¡°We get the team back together? One last adventure?¡± ¡°One very carefully planned, thoroughly prepared adventure,¡± Brakar corrected. ¡°With proper equipment this time.¡± ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Thadan nodded solemnly, though his grin suggested he¡¯d stopped listening after ¡®adventure.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll send messages right away! They¡¯re going to love this!¡± The chair-mimic vibrated slightly under Brakar, as if it was making fun of their situation. He couldn¡¯t really blame it. Here they were, supposedly retired from adventuring, planning to recruit their former party members to deal with a super-powered mimic in their shop¡¯s cellar. Chapter 7: The Thing Below ¡°Okay, that¡¯s the plan. Everyone got it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a plan, Thadan,¡± Mira said. ¡°That¡¯s a prayer with extra steps.¡± ¡°Makes perfect sense to me!¡± Pockets bounced on her heels. ¡°Get in, do the thing, don¡¯t die. Classic Thadan strategy.¡± ¡°I knew I should have left yesterday.¡± Mira checked her quiver. ¡°I¡¯ve got six arrows left. Six. I wasn¡¯t exactly gearing up to die in a basement today.¡± Brakar watched the exchange with a familiar mix of resignation and amusement. The four of them stood in what would eventually become their shop¡¯s main room, surrounded by the evidence of their cleaning efforts. The wooden floor had, at least, been scrubbed to a respectable shine. Even the walls seemed brighter, though no amount of cleaning could completely erase decades of neglect. Their furniture-shaped allies had arranged themselves strategically around the room¡¯s perimeter. The bookshelf-mimic had positioned itself near the front window, its surfaces gleaming with an almost smug polish. The cabinet-mimic lurked in a corner, occasionally shifting its drawers in anticipation. And Brakar¡¯s chair-mimic... well, it had insisted on following him around like an oversized, furniture-shaped puppy. ¡°Look,¡± Thadan said, pacing the length of the counter for the third time, ¡°it¡¯s simple. We keep it distracted while Brakar does his magic thing. No killing, no permanent damage¡ªjust buy him enough time to work.¡± Mira raised an eyebrow. ¡°And how exactly do we distract something that¡¯s apparently powerful enough to make other mimics nervous?¡± ¡°The usual way?¡± Thadan suggested. ¡°You know¡ªdodge, weave, make witty remarks about its mother?¡± ¡°Do mimics even have mothers?¡± Pockets asked, already pulling various mechanical devices from her many pockets. ¡°I mean, how do they reproduce? Is it like budding? Or do they split in half like cells? Or maybe they¡¯re more like fungi, with spores and mycelial networks¡ª¡± ¡°Focus,¡± Mira interrupted. ¡°We¡¯re discussing how not to die, remember?¡± Brakar cleared his throat. ¡°Actually, mimic reproduction is quite fascinating. They¡ª¡± ¡°Later,¡± Thadan said firmly. ¡°Right now, we need to concentrate on the task at hand. Mira, you¡¯ll take high ground¡ªthere¡¯s a decent vantage point on those old storage shelves. Pockets, set up whatever traps you think might slow it down, but remember¡ªwe¡¯re not trying to kill it.¡± ¡°Non-lethal traps, got it!¡± Pockets pulled out what appeared to be a tangle of gears and springs. ¡°I¡¯ve been working on this new net launcher design. The weighted edges create a rotational momentum that¡ª¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± Thadan cut in before she could launch into a full technical explanation. ¡°Brak, you¡¯ll need...?¡± ¡°Space,¡± Brakar said. ¡°And time. This isn¡¯t like communicating with our other friends.¡± He gestured at the friendly mimics. ¡°Whatever¡¯s down there¡ªit¡¯s old. Powerful. The magic will be more complicated.¡± ¡°Right then!¡± Thadan clapped his hands together. ¡°Simple plan: get in, keep the big scary thing busy, don¡¯t die while Brakar works his magic. Any questions?¡± ¡°Several,¡± Mira muttered. ¡°Starting with why I let you talk me into this.¡± ¡°Because you missed us?¡± Pockets suggested brightly. ¡°Because you¡¯re curious about what a walking weapon rack looks like?¡± Thadan offered. ¡°Because you have a death wish?¡± Brakar added helpfully. Mira sighed. ¡°All of the above, probably.¡± She tested her bowstring one last time. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± They gathered their equipment with the practiced efficiency of longtime adventurers. Mira checked her arrows again, mentally calculating angles and trajectories. Pockets continued pulling an improbable number of devices from her various pockets, muttering calculations under her breath. Thadan bounced on the balls of his feet, radiating his usual pre-adventure energy. And Brakar... Brakar tried to ignore the growing sense of unease in his stomach. The friendly mimics had been very clear about the danger below. Whatever waited for them down there, it wasn¡¯t going to be as simple as their previous encounters. The cellar door stood before them like a challenge, its weathered wood bearing the scars of previous attempts to breach it. Deep gouges marked the frame, as if something with immense strength had tried to force its way out. The air around it felt wrong somehow¡ªstale and ancient, carrying hints of metal and old blood. ¡°Ready?¡± Thadan asked, hand on the door handle. ¡°No,¡± Mira replied honestly. ¡°Perfect! That means we¡¯re right on schedule.¡± The door opened with a groan that seemed to echo through the entire building. Stale air wafted up from below, carrying that wrongness Brakar had sensed earlier. The stairs disappeared into darkness, wooden steps vanishing into shadow despite the morning light above. ¡°Ladies first?¡± Thadan suggested. ¡°Age before beauty,¡± Mira countered. ¡°Technically,¡± Pockets interjected, ¡°if we factor in relative species lifespans and cultural age metrics¡ª¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± Brakar said, mostly to prevent another of Pockets¡¯ impromptu lectures on comparative anthropology. The stairs creaked under his weight, each step seeming to protest his presence. The darkness thickened as he descended, swallowing the light from above until only the faintest glimmer remained. Behind him, he could hear the others following¡ªThadan¡¯s confident stride, Mira¡¯s careful steps, Pockets¡¯ excited shuffling. The cellar proper revealed itself gradually as their eyes adjusted to the gloom. Stone walls rose around them, their surfaces slick with centuries of dampness. Ancient support beams crossed the ceiling like the ribs of some massive creature, their wood darkened by time and moisture. The floor was packed earth, worn smooth by countless feet. And in the center of it all... ¡°Oh,¡± Pockets breathed. ¡°That¡¯s new.¡± The creature that faced them defied easy description. It stood nearly seven feet tall, its body a twisted amalgamation of weapon rack and humanoid form. Arms of polished wood and metal extended from its torso, each ending in hands that gripped weapons with unsettling precision. A spear in one hand, a dagger in the other, while its body-rack displayed an impressive array of additional armaments¡ªsword, axe, mace, each gleaming with malevolent purpose. ¡°That,¡± Mira said slowly, ¡°is not a normal mimic.¡± ¡°You think?¡± Thadan¡¯s sarcasm bounced uselessly off the weight of the thing¡¯s presence. The creature¡¯s surface shuddered like disturbed water as it adjusted its stance. No eyes were visible, but Brakar could feel its attention fix on them with predatory focus. The weapons in its grip shifted slightly, metal catching what little light reached the cellar¡¯s depths. ¡°Positions,¡± Thadan ordered, his voice dropping into the command tone they all remembered from their adventuring days. ¡°Mira, up top. Pockets, work your magic. Brakar...¡± ¡°I know.¡± Brakar was already reaching for his magic, feeling the familiar way it twisted and warped in his grasp. ¡°Just keep it busy.¡± Mira moved with feline grace, scaling the weathered shelves until she had a clear view of the battlefield. Pockets darted to one side, hands already blurring as she assembled something complicated from her seemingly endless supply of parts. Thadan stepped forward, drawing the creature¡¯s attention with his most irritating grin. ¡°So!¡± he called out cheerfully. ¡°Come here often?¡± The mimic¡¯s response was immediate and violent. Its spear arm extended in an impossible manner, the weapon lashing out like a striking snake. Thadan barely managed to dodge, the spear¡¯s tip passing close enough to trim a few hairs from his head. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes!¡± He danced backward, drawing the creature¡¯s focus. ¡°Nice place you¡¯ve got here. Love what you¡¯ve done with the... everything.¡± Another strike, this time with the dagger. Thadan weaved between the attacks, his movements fluid but clearly strained. The creature was faster than it should have been, its weapons moving with unnatural precision. Mira¡¯s first arrow struck the mimic¡¯s shoulder, the impact sending waves across its flesh like a pond touched by rain. But instead of penetrating, the arrow simply stuck there, gradually sinking into the creature¡¯s substance as if being absorbed. ¡°Well,¡± she muttered, ¡°that¡¯s not ideal.¡± Pockets¡¯ first device activated with a whir of gears, launching a net of fine metal mesh toward the mimic¡¯s legs. The creature didn¡¯t even try to dodge¡ªinstead, its lower half simply flowed around the net, reforming undamaged. ¡°Fascinating!¡± Pockets exclaimed, already assembling another contraption. ¡°The surface tension properties alone must be¡ª¡± ¡°Less science, more helping!¡± Thadan called, narrowly avoiding a swing that would have taken his head off. Brakar closed his eyes, focusing on the magic building within him. The usual awkwardness was there¡ªthat slight misalignment between intent and execution that had plagued him throughout his magical studies. But where other mages saw weakness, he had found strength. The ¡°accent¡± in his spellcasting might make traditional magic difficult, but it let him speak to creatures like this in ways few others could. He began the incantation, letting the words twist and flow in that peculiar way that matched mimic-thought. The air around him began to thicken with power, heavy with potential. The creature paused in its assault, its surface rippling with possible recognition. Or maybe it was just hunger. ¡°Is it working?¡± Thadan asked, using the moment¡¯s respite to put more distance between himself and those weapons. ¡°Maybe,¡± Brakar replied, maintaining his focus. ¡°It¡¯s... listening? I think?¡± The mimic¡¯s response was to pull the sword from its rack-body, adding it to its already impressive array of wielded weapons. Its surface flowed like quicksilver, redistributing its mass to better accommodate the new configuration. ¡°That doesn¡¯t look like listening!¡± Mira loosed another arrow, this one aimed at the creature¡¯s weapon-holding appendages. Like the first, it simply sank into the mimic¡¯s substance without apparent effect. ¡°Different dialect, maybe?¡± Pockets suggested, launching another device that sparked with electrical energy. ¡°Try speaking slower?¡± The creature batted the device aside with its spear, then launched a coordinated attack that forced them all to scramble for cover. The sword swept low while the spear stabbed high, the dagger weaving between them in patterns that seemed to defy physics. ¡°Less talking, more not dying!¡± Thadan rolled behind a support pillar, which promptly acquired several new gouges from the mimic¡¯s weapons. Mira¡¯s eyes narrowed as she tracked the creature¡¯s movements. ¡°Something¡¯s changing in its patterns. Getting more... deliberate.¡± The mimic¡¯s weapons moved with newfound efficiency, each strike flowing into the next with predatory grace. Where before its attacks had been wild and aggressive, now they showed an unsettling precision. ¡°It¡¯s reading our footwork,¡± Thadan called out, barely avoiding a thrust that would have skewered him. ¡°Every dodge, every counter¡ªit¡¯s learning how we move.¡± His next evasion brought him directly into the path of the sword, forcing him to throw himself awkwardly sideways. A wave coursed across the creature¡¯s form, its substance redistributing with liquid grace. The spear arm stretched, then retracted just as quickly, forcing Mira to abandon her shooting position. ¡°The way it shifts its mass...¡± Pockets observed, frantically assembling another device. ¡°Each time we evade, it adjusts its reach, its striking speed¡ª¡± The mimic punctuated his observation by demonstrating exactly that¡ªits dagger arm condensing and thickening, trading reach for raw striking power. The blow shattered the pillar Pockets had been using as cover. ¡°Pockets, do something useful or shut up!¡± Thadan shouted, noticing how the creature had begun to anticipate their preferred escape routes. Each retreat was met with a precisely aimed strike, forcing them to stay within its reach. Brakar strengthened his spell, pushing more power into the twisted syllables even as he watched the mimic¡¯s tactics evolve. Its weapons had stopped moving independently¡ªnow they worked in concert, the spear herding them toward the sword¡¯s arc, the dagger intercepting any attempt to slip past its defenses. The air grew heavier with each word, magic crackling with potential. The friendly mimics upstairs had responded to this same technique¡ªsurely this one would too? The creature paused, visibly vibrating with increased agitation. For a moment, Brakar thought he felt something resist his magic¡ªan essence deep and primal, layered with lifetimes of insatiable craving. Then the mimic pulled the axe from its rack, and things got considerably more complicated. Chapter 8: No Going Back The mimic¡¯s axe whistled through the air where Brakar¡¯s head had been moments before. He stumbled backward, heart pounding as chips of stone rained down from where the weapon had embedded itself in the wall. The cellar¡¯s damp air filled his lungs as he gasped for breath, trying to maintain his concentration on the spell despite the chaos surrounding him. ¡°Duck!¡± Mira yelled in the middle of battle. Brakar dropped without hesitation. An arrow whizzed overhead, striking the creature¡¯s flowing surface with a wet thunk. Like the others before it, the projectile slowly sank into the mimic¡¯s substance, disappearing entirely. The creature¡¯s body rippled, weapons shifting in an unsettling display of fluid motion. ¡°This isn¡¯t working!¡± Pockets called from somewhere to his left. The sound of grinding gears and clicking mechanisms suggested she was assembling yet another device. ¡°It¡¯s absorbing everything we throw at it!¡± Thadan dodged another spear thrust, his movements growing noticeably slower. ¡°Then throw something bigger!¡± The monster¡¯s mass churned like disturbed mercury, its rack-body redistributing mass with liquid grace. The weapons it wielded moved in perfect synchronization¡ªspear to herd, sword to strike, dagger to intercept, and now axe to finish. Each attack flowed into the next with predatory intelligence, learning and adapting to their patterns with terrifying speed. Brakar pressed himself against a support pillar, desperately trying to maintain his magical focus. The words of his spell felt thick in his mouth, twisted syllables that matched the way mimics processed magic. But this creature was different from the ones upstairs. Where they had responded to his commands with almost eager compliance, this one pushed back¡ªits presence in his magical awareness immense and primordial, filled with ages of insatiable hunger. ¡°We need a new plan!¡± Mira abandoned her elevated position as the mimic¡¯s spear arm extended upward, nearly skewering her through the shelves. She landed in a roll, coming up beside Thadan with arrow nocked. ¡°Preferably one that doesn¡¯t end with us being turned into furniture!¡± ¡°Working on it!¡± Thadan¡¯s voice carried the strain of extended combat. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, and his breath came in ragged gasps. ¡°Pockets, how¡¯s that bigger thing coming along?¡± ¡°Almost... got it!¡± The inventor¡¯s hands blurred over her latest creation¡ªa complicated assemblage of gears, springs, and what looked suspiciously like parts of her precious mechanical compass. ¡°Just need to calibrate the resonance frequency and¡ª¡± The mimic interrupted her explanation with a coordinated assault that forced them all to scatter. Its weapons moved in perfect concert, creating a deadly web of steel that left no safe avenue of retreat. The creature had learned their movement patterns, anticipating their preferred escape routes with unsettling accuracy. Brakar felt his spell waver as he dove behind another pillar. The magic threatened to slip from his grasp, like trying to hold onto smoke with trembling fingers. He needed time¡ªtime to focus, time to strengthen the connection, time they didn¡¯t have. ¡°This isn¡¯t sustainable,¡± Mira observed, loosing another futile arrow. ¡°We¡¯re running out of room to maneuver.¡± She was right. The mimic had been steadily forcing them into a smaller and smaller area, using its weapons to cut off escape routes while herding them toward the cellar¡¯s far corner. Soon they¡¯d be packed together like sheep for slaughter. ¡°Then let¡¯s make some room!¡± Thadan¡¯s inflection hit that particular tone that always preceded his worst ideas. ¡°Pockets, is that thing ready?¡± ¡°Technically no, but¡ª¡± ¡°Close enough! Mira, cover fire! Brak...¡± Thadan¡¯s eyes met his across the chaotic battlefield. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re trying to do with that spell, do it faster!¡± Before Brakar had a chance to object, Thadan launched himself directly at the mimic in what appeared to be a suicidal charge. The creature¡¯s weapons snapped to meet him¡ªbut that¡¯s when Mira¡¯s arrows struck in rapid succession, forcing it to shift its mass to absorb the impacts. The momentary disruption gave Thadan the opening he needed to slip past its first line of defense. ¡°Now, Pockets!¡± The inventor¡¯s device activated with a sound like angry hornets being fed through a grain mill. Arcs of electricity crackled between its components as she hurled it directly at the mimic¡¯s center mass. Its exterior quivered, as if alive with suppressed energy in what might have been surprise¡ªor amusement. ¡°Everyone down!¡± Pockets dove behind the nearest cover, hands clamped over her ears. The device detonated in a spectacular display of mechanical mayhem. Gears and springs exploded outward with surprising force, while the electrical discharge lit up the cellar like bottled lightning. The mimic¡¯s substance writhed under the assault, its weapons wavering as it tried to maintain cohesion. But Thadan wasn¡¯t done. Taking advantage of the creature¡¯s distraction, he executed a move that would have made their old combat instructors proud. He launched himself into a rolling dive that took him directly under the mimic¡¯s guard, then used his momentum to drive his shoulder into what passed for its legs. The impact sent both warrior and monster tumbling. Weapons clattered against stone as the mimic¡¯s carefully coordinated attacks dissolved into chaos. A rhythmic pulsing danced across its surface, violently, trying to compensate for the sudden disruption of its balance. ¡°Hold it down!¡± Thadan grappled with the creature¡¯s shifting mass, somehow maintaining his grip despite its fluid nature. ¡°Mira! Pockets!¡± They moved without hesitation, years of fighting together making words unnecessary. Mira abandoned her bow and dove into the fray, using her natural agility to avoid the mimic¡¯s flailing weapons. Pockets followed suit, already pulling more devices from her seemingly endless pockets. The creature thrashed beneath them, its substance flowing like quicksilver as it tried to escape their combined weight. Weapons twisted at impossible angles, seeking targets with deadly precision despite the chaos. That¡¯s when everything went wrong. The mimic¡¯s dagger arm, previously pinned beneath Thadan¡¯s weight, suddenly liquefied and reformed at a different angle. Steel flashed in the dim light. Thadan¡¯s gaze widened in surprise more than pain as the blade found its mark, sliding between his ribs with surgical precision. ¡°No!¡± The word tore from Brakar¡¯s throat before he could stop it. His concentration shattered, the carefully maintained spell threatening to collapse entirely. But instead of dissipating, the magic... changed. His fear for Thadan, his desperate need to prevent another loss, his bone-deep exhaustion with watching friends suffer¡ªall of it flooded into the spell, twisting the syllables into something new. Something raw and primal and angry. The mimic froze in place, reacting as though Brakar¡¯s magic had stunned it completely. The presence he¡¯d sensed earlier¡ªthat ancient, hungry consciousness¡ªrecoiled from the onslaught of emotions and memories that weren¡¯t its own.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Images flashed between them: Thadan offering friendship when Brakar needed it most. Mira¡¯s quiet competence keeping them alive through countless missions. Pockets¡¯ enthusiasm brightening even their darkest moments. The weight of failure, the fear of inadequacy, the desperate need to protect what little family he had left¡ªall of it poured through the connection, overwhelming the creature¡¯s defenses with sheer emotional intensity. The mimic screamed. The sound defied description¡ªpart metal stress, part splintering wood, part wounded animal. Its weapons clattered to the floor as its form began to lose cohesion, centuries of carefully maintained control crumbling under the assault of foreign feelings and memories. Brakar seized that moment of vulnerability with everything he had. His magic surged forward, no longer trying to command or control, but to connect. To share understanding. To offer choice. You don¡¯t have to be this, his spell seemed to say. You don¡¯t have to be alone. The creature¡¯s surface churned like a storm-tossed sea as conflicting impulses warred within it. Centuries of predatory instinct battled against foreign awakening¡ªsomething that tasted of possibility and change and hope. Then, with a sound like a long-held breath finally released, the mimic... surrendered. Its form flowed like water, weapons and armor melting away as its substance rearranged itself into a gentler shape. The transformation was gradual but deliberate¡ªedges softening, textures shifting, colors warming¡ªuntil where a deadly weapon-rack had stood moments before, there now rested a perfectly ordinary-looking leather sofa. Well, perhaps not perfectly ordinary. The leather had a slight iridescent quality that suggested its true nature, and the cushions arranged themselves with just a bit too much precision. But it was, undeniably, no longer trying to kill them. ¡°That¡¯s... that¡¯s good,¡± Brakar managed, his voice rough with exhaustion. ¡°That¡¯s very good. Now, if someone could please help Thadan before he bleeds out on our new furniture?¡± The words broke the stunned silence that had fallen over the cellar. Mira and Pockets scrambled to help their wounded friend, who had somehow maintained consciousness despite the dagger wound in his side. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± Thadan protested weakly as they helped him sit up. ¡°Barely a scratch, really.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Mira advised, already examining the wound with practiced efficiency. ¡°Pockets, my pack¡ªthere should be bandages in the side pocket.¡± ¡°On it!¡± The inventor produced not only bandages but also a small flask of what smelled like medical alcohol. ¡°I may have borrowed some supplies from the guild¡¯s first aid kit. You know, just in case.¡± ¡°Smart girl.¡± Mira began cleaning the wound with brisk movements. ¡°Brak, we could use some of your healing right about now.¡± Brakar moved to help, his legs slightly unsteady after the magical exertion. The wound wasn¡¯t as bad as it could have been¡ªthe dagger had missed anything vital, though blood loss would be a concern if left untreated. He placed his hands over the injury, calling up what little magical energy he had left. ¡°This might sting,¡± he warned, then began the healing spell. Thadan hissed through clenched teeth as the magic took hold, knitting flesh and muscle back together. ¡°Might sting, he says. Like getting kicked by a drunk mule, more like.¡± ¡°Stop whining,¡± Mira ordered, though her tone held more relief than rebuke. ¡°This is what happens when you tackle weird monsters without a proper plan.¡± ¡°Hey, it worked, didn¡¯t it?¡± Thadan managed a weak grin. ¡°We got ourselves a nice sofa out of it and everything.¡± ¡°You almost died!¡± Pockets¡¯ voice cracked. ¡°What¡¯s the matter with you?¡± ¡°What she means,¡± Mira translated, ¡°is that we care about you, you reckless idiot.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Thadan¡¯s smile softened into something more genuine. ¡°I care about you too. All of you. Which is why...¡± He trailed off, his expression suddenly distant. ¡°Thadan?¡± Brakar paused in his healing. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong.¡± Thadan sat up straighter, ignoring their protests. ¡°Everything¡¯s right. Don¡¯t you see? It¡¯s perfect!¡± ¡°The blood loss is affecting his brain,¡± Mira decided. ¡°Brak, can you¡ª¡± ¡°No, listen!¡± Thadan¡¯s voice took on that particular tone that meant he¡¯d had an idea¡ªone that would either be brilliant or catastrophic, with very little middle ground. ¡°The store. Our store. We¡¯ve been trying to figure out what to sell, right?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Brakar said slowly, ¡°but I don¡¯t see¡ª¡± ¡°Furniture!¡± Thadan¡¯s eyes practically glowed with enthusiasm. ¡°We¡¯ll sell furniture! But not just any furniture¡ªwe¡¯ll sell mimic furniture!¡± Silence fell over the cellar as they processed this declaration. The sofa-mimic¡¯s outer layer twitched in interest. ¡°Think about it,¡± Thadan continued, his words picking up speed as the idea took shape. ¡°We¡¯ve got multiple mimics upstairs who can transform into whatever we need. With Brakar¡¯s ability to communicate with them, we could offer any style, any design! Need a bookshelf? Want a fancy desk? Looking for a comfortable chair that will literally adjust itself to fit you perfectly? We¡¯ve got that covered!¡± ¡°That¡¯s...¡± Pockets tilted her head thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s actually not a terrible idea.¡± ¡°It¡¯s certainly creative,¡± Mira admitted. ¡°But there are some rather obvious problems.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Like how we¡¯re going to explain to customers that their new dining table might try to eat them if they don¡¯t feed it regularly,¡± Brakar pointed out. ¡°Not to mention the fact that we have a limited number of mimics. Even counting our new friend here¡±¡ªhe gestured to the sofa¡ª¡°we don¡¯t have enough to stock a proper store.¡± ¡°Details!¡± Thadan waved off these concerns with his usual optimism. ¡°We can start small, just with the mimics we have. Test the market, build up a customer base. Once we prove the concept works, we¡¯ll figure out how to get more.¡± ¡°And the whole ¡®furniture that eats people¡¯ issue?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be upfront about it! Market it as a feature, not a bug. ¡®Living furniture for the discerning customer¡¯ or something like that. People love unique products, right? And with your ability to keep them calm and friendly, we can guarantee safety.¡± The scary part was that it almost made sense. Brakar could already see the possibilities¡ªcustom furniture that could adapt to any space, pieces that could repair themselves, designs that could change with the seasons or owner¡¯s whims. It was exactly the type of crazy idea that might just work. ¡°It seems you¡¯re dead serious,¡± he realized. ¡°You actually want to sell mimic furniture.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Thadan¡¯s grin had returned full force. ¡°It¡¯s not like our original plan of ¡®figure something out eventually¡¯ was working. And hey, at least this way we¡¯re playing to our strengths. Your mimic-whispering and my salesmanship. It¡¯s the perfect combination!¡± Brakar looked around the cellar¡ªat the scattered weapons their new sofa had wielded moments ago, at the scorch marks from Pockets¡¯ device, at the friendly mimics upstairs who had already changed their lives in unexpected ways. Maybe... maybe Thadan was right. Maybe this was crazy enough to work. ¡°We¡¯d need to set up proper feeding schedules,¡± he found himself saying. ¡°And training protocols. And safety measures¡ª¡± ¡°Is that a yes?¡± Thadan¡¯s eyes lit up with hope. Brakar sighed, but he could feel a smile tugging at his lips. ¡°It¡¯s a ¡®let¡¯s try it and see what happens.¡¯ But!¡± he added quickly as Thadan¡¯s grin threatened to split his face, ¡°we do this carefully. Properly. No rushing in half-prepared like we did today.¡± ¡°Absolutely!¡± Thadan agreed with suspicious enthusiasm. ¡°We¡¯ll plan everything out. Take it slow. Be responsible business owners.¡± ¡°So, we¡¯re really doing this? Opening a furniture store staffed by reformed mimics?¡± ¡°Looks like it!¡± Thadan tried to stand, only to be firmly pushed back down by Mira. ¡°Ow! Fine, fine. But once this wound heals up, we¡¯re going to build the best damn furniture store Ironweave has ever seen!¡± The false furniture quivered with subtle waves, leaving them to wonder if it understood their scheme or was simply enjoying their foolishness. As Brakar watched his friends bicker about potential store names and design choices, he felt something settle in his chest. A sense of rightness, of possibility. Maybe this wasn¡¯t the future any of them had imagined, but perhaps that was the point. Sometimes the best paths were the ones you never saw coming. A silent acknowledgment of change, of choices made and roads taken. There would be challenges ahead¡ªthere always were¡ªbut for now, in this moment, everything felt... right. ¡°Oh!¡± Pockets suddenly exclaimed. ¡°I just realized! We could install mechanical components into the mimics to enhance their transformation capabilities! Maybe add some steam-powered articulation points, or¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± everyone said in unison. Chapter 9: Business Planning ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to stay?¡± asked Thadan. ¡°Could use an expert archer when the furniture gets rowdy.¡± ¡°Not a chance, Thadan. My first client¡¯s expecting me tomorrow.¡± Mira adjusted the pack on her shoulder. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m out of arrows.¡± ¡°The university orientation starts next week.¡± Pockets said shyly. ¡°Though I could probably delay it if you need help setting up the¡ª¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Mira¡¯s spotted ears pointed forward, her amber eyes sharp and predatory. ¡°You¡¯re going to that school if I have to drag you there myself.¡± ¡°But what if they need my expertise with mechanical¡ª¡± ¡°No.¡± The sofa-mimic sat still in the corner, almost exuding a quiet sense of goodbye. ¡°Just... be careful with this whole thing, okay?¡± Mira glanced between Thadan and Brakar. ¡°I know you¡¯ll ?ignore that advice, but try not to get eaten by your own merchandise.¡± ¡°That will absolutely never happen.¡± ¡°We literally just saw it happen,¡± Mira said. ¡°Details.¡± Thadan waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Besides, we¡¯ve got Brak. Nothing bad can happen with him around.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what you said about the griffon incident.¡± ¡°Oh my God. Are you gonna keep bringing that up? How many times has it been already? Besides, we survived, didn¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Barely.¡± Mira¡¯s whiskers twitched. ¡°Just promise me you¡¯ll think things through before doing anything stupid?¡± ¡°Define stupid.¡± ¡°Thadan.¡± ¡°Fine, fine. I promise to run all potentially lethal decisions by Brak first.¡± ¡°That¡¯s... not exactly what I meant.¡± Pockets pulled her hand from one of her many pockets. ¡°Here. I made these last night. Just in case.¡± She held out what looked like two mechanical pendants. ¡°Emergency beacons,¡± she explained. ¡°If things go really wrong, just break the outer casing. They¡¯re connected to similar devices in my workshop, so I¡¯ll know if¡ª¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± Brakar took the pendants. ¡°But thank you.¡± Mira checked the position of the sun through the window. ¡°We should go. My carriage leaves in an hour, and Pockets still needs to pack her entire workshop.¡± ¡°It¡¯s mostly packed! I just need to disassemble the main workbench and the experimental steam engine and the prototype teleportation array¡ª¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°Nothing! Just a small side project. Barely explosive at all.¡± They stood in awkward silence for a moment, none of them quite ready to say the final goodbye. ¡°Well.¡± Mira cleared her throat. ¡°Try not to die.¡± ¡°You too.¡± Thadan¡¯s voice was suspiciously rough. ¡°And hey, if you ever get tired of cutting hair...¡± ¡°I¡¯ll send clients your way. The ones who might appreciate furniture with an attitude.¡± Pockets launched herself forward, her auburn scales glinting as she wrapped her small kobold arms around as much of the group as she could reach. ¡°I¡¯m going to miss you guys.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll visit,¡± Brakar promised. ¡°Once we figure out how to run a legitimate business.¡± ¡°So never, then?¡± ¡°Probably not, no.¡± They shared one last laugh, then Mira and Pockets stepped out, leaving Thadan and Brakar alone with their collection of reformed predators and questionable business decisions. Without a word, Thadan moved to the backroom. Brakar followed. They stared at the cellar steps with the kind of resignation normally reserved for tax collectors and unexpected in-law visits. His muscles still ached from the earlier fight, and the thought of wrestling their newly-acquired sofa-mimic up those narrow stairs made his back hurt in anticipation. ¡°Come on!¡± Thadan¡¯s energy blazed bright despite their recent adventure. ¡°That sofa isn¡¯t going to move itself.¡± ¡°Actually, it could,¡± Brakar pointed out. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t magically exhausted from stopping it from killing us earlier.¡± ¡°Details, details.¡± Thadan was already halfway down the stairs. ¡°Besides, think how much better our new desk will look with proper seating around it!¡± The desk that you haven¡¯t paid for yet, Brakar thought but didn¡¯t say. Kip¡¯s unexpected generosity still left him feeling slightly off-balance. People didn¡¯t just give away handcrafted furniture, especially not to complete strangers with questionable business plans. And yet... The sofa-mimic sat exactly where they¡¯d left it, its leather surface gleaming with that subtle iridescence that marked it as something more than ordinary furniture. It had arranged itself quite tastefully in the corner, as if trying to prove how well-behaved it could be. ¡°Right then.¡± Brakar approached cautiously, reaching out with what remained of his magical senses. ¡°Let me see if I can convince it to take a more manageable form.¡± He gathered what dregs of power he could muster, forming the twisted syllables that mimics seemed to understand. The spell felt clumsy in his mouth, like trying to speak with a numb tongue. The sofa¡¯s body shifted in response, but remained stubbornly sofa-shaped. ¡°No good?¡± Thadan asked, though he clearly already knew the answer. ¡°No good,¡± Brakar confirmed. ¡°I¡¯m too drained. It¡¯s like trying to lift weights after running a marathon¡ªthe spirit is willing, but the magic is weak.¡± ¡°Then we do this the old-fashioned way!¡± Thadan rubbed his hands together with alarming enthusiasm. ¡°You take that end, I¡¯ll take this one.¡± ¡°You were stabbed less than an hour ago.¡± ¡°Barely stabbed. Hardly counts. Besides, your healing fixed most of it.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Most isn¡¯t all, and¡ª¡± Brakar¡¯s protest died as Thadan grabbed one end of the sofa anyway. ¡°Fine. But when you tear your stitches, I¡¯m not healing you again.¡± ¡°Noted!¡± Thadan¡¯s grin suggested he didn¡¯t believe that for a second. ¡°On three?¡± Brakar positioned himself at the other end, trying to find a grip that wouldn¡¯t strain his already protesting muscles. ¡°Wait, is it on three, or after three?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Do we lift when you say ¡®three¡¯ or do we lift on ¡®go¡¯ after you say three?¡± ¡°Does it matter?¡± ¡°It matters if we want to lift at the same time and not drop a potentially angry mimic on our feet.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Thadan shifted his grip. ¡°We¡¯ll lift after I say ¡®go.¡¯ Ready? One... two... three... go!¡± Thadan abruptly let go of his end and darted to the side where Mira¡¯s old bow lay forgotten against the wall and he scooped it up in one fluid motion and slung it over his shoulder with practiced ease and then rushed back to his position with a mumbled apology and grabbed his end of the sofa again as if he hadn¡¯t just left Brakar struggling with the full weight of a shape-shifting predator. They heaved upward in unison. The sofa was heavier than it looked¡ªwhich, given that it was technically a centuries-old predator made of semi-liquid matter, ?shouldn¡¯t have been surprising. Still, they managed to get it off the ground without immediately dropping it. ¡°Right,¡± Thadan said through gritted teeth. ¡°Now we just need to get it up the stairs.¡± ¡°You know who would have been really helpful with this?¡± Brakar started shuffling backward toward the steps. ¡°Mira. With her natural strength and agility.¡± ¡°True.¡± Thadan adjusted his grip, his face slightly pale. ¡°Or Pockets. I¡¯m sure she has some kind of mechanical lifting device in those endless pockets of hers.¡± ¡°The ones we just watched walk out the door.¡± ¡°Are you going to be this passive-aggressive the whole way up?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Brakar¡¯s heel met the first step. ¡°Careful now. We need to angle it... no, your other left.¡± They maneuvered the sofa through a series of increasingly awkward positions, trying to find the right angle to navigate the narrow staircase. The creature¡¯s exterior flickered occasionally, either from amusement at their struggles or concern about being dropped. ¡°Maybe...¡± Thadan¡¯s voice was strained. ¡°Maybe we should have planned this better.¡± ¡°You think?¡± Brakar¡¯s arms trembled as they attempted to pivot around a particularly tight corner. ¡°Next you¡¯ll suggest we should have thought through the whole ¡®furniture store run by predators¡¯ thing.¡± ¡°Hey, that¡¯s a solid plan! Once we... figure out... the details...¡± ¡°Damnit, lift with your legs!¡± Thadan grunted, his face reddening with exertion. ¡°I am lifting with my legs.¡± They were about halfway up when Thadan¡¯s grip slipped slightly. The sofa tilted alarmingly, and Brakar felt his own hold starting to give way. For a heart-stopping moment, he was certain they were about to send their new business partner tumbling back down to the cellar. Then the sofa¡¯s weight seemed to shift¡ªnot enough to move on its own, but just enough to help them regain their balance. ¡°Did it just...?¡± Thadan blinked in surprise. ¡°Help us? I think so.¡± Brakar sent a wave of grateful acknowledgment through what remained of his magical connection. ¡°Nice to know at least one of us is thinking practically.¡± The rest of the ascent was ?easier, though still far from graceful. By the time they reached the top, both men were sweating and breathing heavily. They managed to maneuver the sofa through the doorway and into the main shop area without further incident. ¡°There!¡± Thadan released his end with perhaps more force than necessary. ¡°Perfect spot right in front of Kip¡¯s desk.¡± The sofa settled into position with suspicious precision, its cushions arranging themselves in a way that somehow managed to complement the desk¡¯s craftsmanship. ¡°It¡¯s good at that, isn¡¯t it?¡± Brakar observed. ¡°The whole... furniture thing.¡± ¡°Well, yeah. It¡¯s had centuries of practice pretending to be furniture. Only now it gets to do it legitimately.¡± ¡°Speaking of legitimacy...¡± Brakar collapsed onto the sofa, which obligingly adjusted its cushions to better support his aching muscles. ¡°We should probably get the other one too.¡± ¡°Right!¡± Thadan¡¯s enthusiasm remained inexhaustible. ¡°Can¡¯t have a proper office without matching sets!¡± He disappeared into the back room, returning moments later with what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary wooden chair. Only someone who knew what to look for would notice the subtle shift in its grain. ¡°There we go!¡± Thadan positioned the chair-mimic on the other side of the desk, then dropped into it with his usual lack of grace. ¡°Now we can start proper business planning!¡± The chair adjusted itself under him, providing optimal support despite his awkward sitting position. Brakar noticed that both mimics seemed to be paying attention now, their forms undulating as if intrigued by the discussion of their future roles. ¡°Alright then.¡± Thadan leaned forward, his expression turning serious. ¡°First things first¡ªhow long can they maintain these forms? I mean, we can¡¯t exactly sell furniture that might suddenly decide to go walkabout.¡± ¡°I... don¡¯t ?know,¡± Brakar admitted. ¡°The texts I¡¯ve read mostly focused on their hunting habits, not their long-term transformation capabilities.¡± ¡°Okay, what about feeding? How often do they need to eat? What do they eat besides, you know, adventurers?¡± ¡°Again, not entirely sure. The academic literature tends to focus more on avoiding being eaten than on dietary requirements.¡± ¡°Well, what do you know?¡± Brakar shifted uncomfortably, the sofa-mimic adjusting to accommodate his movement. ¡°I know they¡¯re intelligent. More intelligent than most people give them credit for. And they can understand complex concepts when communicated properly.¡± ¡°That¡¯s... not ?very helpful for running a business.¡± ¡°No,¡± Brakar agreed. ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± They sat in silence for a moment, surrounded by transformed predators and the weight of everything they didn¡¯t know. Sunlight streamed through the shop¡¯s windows, highlighting dust motes and the faint iridescent shimmer of mimic surfaces. Outside, they could hear the normal sounds of Ironweave¡¯s morning commerce¡ªcart wheels on cobblestones, merchants calling their wares, the faint clang of the Ironweave bridges shifting to accommodate the day¡¯s traffic. ¡°So,¡± Thadan said finally. ¡°We¡¯re going into business selling furniture we don¡¯t fully understand, made by creatures we can barely control, to customers who might get eaten if something goes wrong.¡± ¡°That about sums it up, yes.¡± ¡°Perfect!¡± Thadan brought his hands together in a clap. ¡°Sounds exactly like every other business plan I¡¯ve ever heard. We¡¯ll work out the details as we go along!¡± ¡°That¡¯s your solution? Just... wing it?¡± ¡°Has anything in our lives ever gone according to plan?¡± Brakar opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again as he ?thought about their history. ¡°Fair point.¡± ¡°Besides,¡± Thadan continued, warming to his theme, ¡°think about it¡ªwe¡¯re not just selling furniture. We¡¯re selling an experience! Custom-fitted chairs that actually adjust to you. Tables that won¡¯t wobble no matter how uneven the floor is. Wardrobes that can organize themselves!¡± ¡°Assuming we can convince them to do any of that.¡± ¡°That¡¯s where you come in! You¡¯ve got that whole...¡± Thadan waved his hands vaguely. ¡°Mimic-whisperer thing going on. Once you¡¯ve recovered, you can explain what we need them to do.¡± The chair-mimic¡¯s form quivered in a manner that, if Brakar had to guess, indicated consent. Although, if he were honest with himself, it was definitely mockery. ¡°And what if I can¡¯t? What if they decide they¡¯d rather eat our customers than serve them?¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll deal with that when it happens.¡± Thadan¡¯s expression grew gentler. ¡°Look, I know it¡¯s not a perfect plan. But when have we ever had one of those? At least this way we¡¯re trying something new. Something that could work.¡± Brakar sighed, feeling the sofa-mimic shift sympathetically beneath him. ¡°You¡¯re not going to let this go, are you?¡± ¡°Nope!¡± A broad grin lit up Thadan¡¯s face. ¡°Besides, what¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡± ¡°Do you want that list alphabetically or in order of likelihood?¡± ¡°Details!¡± Thadan waved off his concerns. ¡°The point is, we¡¯ve got a unique opportunity here. No one else is doing anything like this. We could revolutionize the furniture industry!¡± ¡°Or get arrested for endangering public safety.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯ll start small! Just a few pieces, carefully monitored. We¡¯ll work out the kinks before we expand.¡± The mimics¡¯ surfaces rippled again, and Brakar felt a faint brush against his magical senses¡ªnot quite communication, but something like interest. Maybe even anticipation. ¡°They seem on board with the idea,¡± he noted. ¡°See? Even our inventory agrees!¡± Thadan¡¯s enthusiasm was reaching dangerous levels. ¡°Now we just have to figure out pricing, marketing, customer policies...¡± ¡°Basic safety protocols?¡± ¡°Those too! But first...¡± Thadan¡¯s face turned slightly sheepish. ¡°We should probably clean up the rest of the shop. And maybe figure out how we¡¯re going to pay rent next month.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Brakar nodded. ¡°The mundane details of revolutionary business ventures.¡± ¡°Exactly! But hey, at least we¡¯ve got help now.¡± Thadan patted the chair-mimic¡¯s armrest. ¡°Once you¡¯re recovered enough to ask them, anyway.¡± Brakar looked around their dusty, half-organized shop, with its transformed predators and ambitious plans. This wasn¡¯t how he¡¯d expected his life to go¡ªbut then, when had it ever followed expectations? ¡°Right then,¡± he said, pushing himself up from the surprisingly comfortable sofa. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡± The mimics seemed to resonate together, their collective presence signaling agreement. Whatever happened next, at least they wouldn¡¯t be facing it alone. And really, Brakar thought as they began tackling the day¡¯s more mundane challenges, how much trouble could a furniture store possibly be? The sofa-mimic¡¯s leather creaked. It sounded suspiciously like laughter. Chapter 10: A Front Desk for Success Brakar had managed to keep his tiny studio apartment in The Stack clutter-free for exactly seventeen hours¡ªa new personal record. Now books once again claimed every available surface, their spines bearing titles that would have seemed absurdly specific just days ago. Some teetered in precarious towers near his bed, while others formed what he¡¯d optimistically labeled ¡°research zones¡± on his floor, though any actual system of organization had collapsed around midnight. The growing headache behind his eyes suggested he¡¯d been reading too long, but each text seemed to unlock new understanding about their unique business venture. Sandria Val¡¯s ¡°Transformative Entities: A Practical Analysis¡± had revolutionized his understanding of mimic essence¡ªthey weren¡¯t just shapeshifters, but rather living expressions of crystallized magical potential that had somehow achieved sentience. It explained so much about their nature, from their fluid transformations to their ability to absorb and incorporate foreign materials into their substance. Bashzush Koggin¡¯s ¡°Colonial Behaviors in Magical Predators¡± had proven equally enlightening, though the author¡¯s obsession with footnotes made for exhausting reading. The chapter on mimic networks described how they naturally formed magical resonances when in proximity to each other, creating subtle webs of communication and shared experience. Isolated mimics, it seemed, often grew more aggressive and unstable without the tempering influence of their kind¡ªa fact that carried concerning implications for any furniture they might eventually sell. Tumvavlu Redyemodu¡¯s controversial ¡°Understanding Mimic-Thought: A Theoretical Framework¡± sat open on his lap, its pages dog-eared and marked with notes. Her assertion that mimics didn¡¯t just copy appearances but magically comprehended the fundamental nature of what they imitated had seemed far-fetched at first. Yet the more he observed their shop¡¯s new inhabitants, the more her theories made sense. Their transformations showed genuine understanding¡ªnot just of form, but of function. They didn¡¯t simply become furniture; they became better furniture, improving upon the original designs through some innate magical insight. His own magical reserves still felt depleted, though in a way that reminded him more of sore muscles after exercise than actual exhaustion. The books offered no guidance on this particular phenomenon, but then again, none of their authors had ever attempted to run a store staffed by reformed predators. He supposed some things would have to be learned through experience¡ªassuming they survived long enough to write their own chapter in magical business history. A sharp rap at the door jolted Brakar from his studies. The sound echoed through his cramped apartment like a gunshot, sending carefully balanced book towers swaying precariously. He caught ¡°Transformative Entities¡± before it could slide off his lap, marking his place with a scrap of parchment. ¡°It¡¯s open,¡± he called, though ¡®open¡¯ was a relative term given the fortress of literature he¡¯d constructed between himself and the door. Thadan¡¯s familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway, backlit by the hallway¡¯s perpetually flickering mage-lights. He surveyed the book-strewn chaos with raised eyebrows. ¡°I see the research is going well,¡± he said, picking his way through the literary maze. ¡°Or you¡¯ve started a very specific paper collection business.¡± ¡°Very funny.¡± Brakar shifted a stack of scrolls to clear a space on his bed. ¡°Did you need something, or did you just come to critique my organizational system?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t it be both?¡± Thadan perched on the edge of the bed, causing several precariously balanced tomes to slide onto the floor. ¡°Well, I wanted to check on your progress. Learn anything useful about our new employees?¡± Brakar gestured at the open book in his lap. ¡°Actually, yes. According to Tumvavlu Redyemodu¡¯s research, mimics can maintain transformed states almost indefinitely, provided they¡¯ve consumed sufficient energy beforehand.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good news!¡± Thadan¡¯s face lit up. ¡°So we won¡¯t have to worry about our furniture suddenly deciding to take a walk in the middle of a sale?¡± ¡°Not exactly.¡± Brakar flipped to a heavily annotated page. ¡°They need regular feeding to keep their shape stable. Think of it like maintaining a spell¡ªthe longer it¡¯s active, the more energy it consumes.¡± ¡°Right, about that...¡± Thadan looked slightly nervous. ¡°What exactly do they eat? Besides, you know...¡± He made a vague gesture that somehow managed to encompass ¡®adventurers¡¯ and ¡®unfortunate customers¡¯ simultaneously. ¡°That¡¯s the interesting part.¡± Brakar reached for another book, this one bound in suspiciously organic-looking leather. ¡°I read Tumvavlu Redyemodu¡¯s research, and they don¡¯t ?need to consume solid matter. They feed primarily on magical energy, with physical consumption being more about acquiring new forms and materials.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve lost me.¡± ¡°Think of it like this¡ªwhen a mimic eats something, it¡¯s not just about nutrition. They¡¯re absorbing the object¡¯s essential nature, learning how to replicate its properties. The actual sustenance comes from ambient magical energy, which they can absorb through their surface area.¡± ¡°So... they photosynthesize magic?¡± ¡°Sort of? It¡¯s more complicated than that, but¡ª¡± Brakar caught himself before launching into another academic tangent. ¡°The point is, they need a steady supply of magical energy to maintain stable forms. In the wild, they get this from their hunting grounds¡ªdungeons, ancient ruins, places with high magical saturation.¡± ¡°Which we don¡¯t have in our shop.¡± Thadan¡¯s brow furrowed in thought. ¡°Unless... could we create something similar? Some kind of magical food source?¡± ¡°Theoretically, yes. But it would require significant magical knowledge and resources. We¡¯d need to create a concentrated form of magical energy that¡¯s stable enough to store but accessible enough for the mimics to absorb. Something like a potion, but more...¡± ¡°Leave it to me.¡± Thadan stood abruptly, nearly toppling another book stack. ¡°Wait, what?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Just keep researching. I¡¯ll handle the feeding situation.¡± Brakar wanted to ask further, but hesitated. In a flash, Thadan had navigated his way back through the book maze and disappeared into the hallway, leaving behind only the faint echo of footsteps on the Stack¡¯s creaky stairs. Brakar stared at the empty doorway for a moment, then turned back to his books. He¡¯d learned long ago that when Thadan got that particular gleam in his eye, it was better to wait and see what happened rather than try to prevent whatever scheme was forming in his friend¡¯s mind. Besides, he had more reading to do. Tumvavlu Redyemodu¡¯s theories on mimic cognition weren¡¯t going to understand themselves. The next morning arrived with another knock at his door, this one accompanied by the sound of clinking glass. Brakar, who had finally succumbed to sleep sometime around dawn, emerged from beneath a pile of research materials to find Thadan grinning triumphantly in his doorway, holding a crate of softly glowing bottles. ¡°Problem solved!¡± he announced, setting the crate down with surprising gentleness. Brakar blinked sleep from his eyes, trying to process what he was seeing. The bottles contained some kind of luminescent liquid that shifted colors like oil on water, each one sealed with wax and labeled in Thadan¡¯s surprisingly neat handwriting. ¡°What... how did you...?¡± ¡°Remember how we¡¯ve been too broke to buy proper healing potions?¡± Thadan pulled out one of the bottles, holding it up to the light. ¡°Well, I may have gotten pretty good at stretching our supplies. Turns out the same principles apply to other types of magical consumables.¡± ¡°You know alchemy?¡± ¡°I know how to water down potions without completely ruining their magical properties.¡± Thadan shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s amazing what you can learn when you¡¯re desperate enough. Anyway, I figured if mimics feed on magical energy, we could make something similar to what they¡¯d find in their natural habitat.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Brakar picked up one of the bottles, examining its contents more closely. The liquid inside responded to his proximity, swirling with increased intensity. ¡°These are... very impressive,¡± he admitted. ¡°But how did you know what proportions to use?¡± ¡°Trial and error, mostly. Started with a base of standard mana potion, added some stabilizing agents, threw in a bit of transformation catalyst...¡± Thadan¡¯s casual tone belied the complexity of what he was describing. ¡°The tricky part was finding the right balance between potency and stability. Too strong and it becomes volatile, too weak and it¡¯s just expensive colored water.¡± ¡°And you figured this out overnight?¡± ¡°Well, no. I¡¯ve been experimenting with potion modification for months. This was just... applying those skills in a new direction.¡± Thadan¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Plus, I may have borrowed some notes from that alchemist¡¯s shop we cleared out last spring. You know, the one with the exploding mushroom problem?¡± ¡°Thadan...¡± ¡°What? They weren¡¯t using them anymore! Besides, think about it¡ªwe could sell these to customers along with their furniture. Regular feeding schedule, guaranteed stability, no risk of your ottoman deciding to snack on the family pet...¡± Brakar had to admit, it wasn¡¯t a terrible idea. Assuming the potions ?worked as intended, it would solve one of their biggest practical concerns about running a mimic-based furniture business. ¡°We should test them first,¡± he said, already reaching for his notes. ¡°Make sure they¡¯re safe and effective before we start selling them to customers.¡± ¡°Way ahead of you.¡± Thadan pulled out another bottle, this one with a ?different color pattern. ¡°I made a few different formulations. We can try them out on our current inventory, see which ones work best.¡± ¡°Agreed. Strange hearing you be coherent, though.¡± ¡°Had to happen eventually.¡± Thadan¡¯s expression turned slightly more serious. ¡°Look, I know I usually rush in without a plan, but this... this could actually work. We just need to do it right.¡± Brakar studied his friend¡¯s face, noting the faint shadows under his eyes that suggested he¡¯d spent as much of the night working as Brakar had spent reading. Maybe they were both growing up a little. Or at least learning from their past mistakes. ¡°Speaking of doing things right,¡± Thadan continued, carefully repacking the potion crate, ¡°I was thinking we should learn more about running an actual furniture store. You know, beyond the whole ¡®our inventory might eat people¡¯ aspect.¡± ¡°That... would probably be wise,¡± Brakar agreed. ¡°But how? It¡¯s not like we can just walk into established businesses and ask them to teach us their trade secrets.¡± ¡°Maybe not directly.¡± Thadan¡¯s grin returned. ¡°But we do know someone who might be willing to help. Someone who already offered us assistance...¡± Realization dawned. ¡°Mr. Kip?¡± ¡°Exactly! He¡¯s already shown he¡¯s willing to help us, and he clearly knows the furniture business. Maybe he¡¯d be willing to give us some pointers?¡± ¡°It¡¯s worth asking,¡± Brakar admitted. ¡°Right. Meet me downstairs in an hour? That should give us both time to look somewhat professional.¡± Brakar agreed, and Thadan departed with his crate of experimental mimic food, leaving only the faint glow of residual magic and the lingering scent of alchemical reagents. An hour later, they stood outside The Stack, both making an effort to look like legitimate businessmen rather than retired adventurers playing at commerce. Thadan had even managed to tame his usually wild hair into something approaching respectability, though Brakar noticed he still kept his sword belt buckled at his hip¡ªold habits died hard. The morning air carried the familiar sounds and smells of Ironweave coming to life¡ªthe clang of the bridges being adjusted for the day¡¯s traffic, the aroma of fresh bread from nearby bakeries, the calls of early merchants setting up their stalls. Their section of the city wasn¡¯t the most prosperous, but it had a certain determined energy, a sense of people making the best of what they had. ¡°Ready?¡± Thadan asked, adjusting his collar one last time. ¡°Wait¡ªhow are we even going to find Kip? The general store¡¯s enormous, and he said he doesn¡¯t work there.¡± ¡°Already handled!¡± Thadan¡¯s grin carried that particular smugness he reserved for rare moments of actual preparation. ¡°Asked him the other day, when he came to drop off the desk. Kip has a place in the Plaigees District.¡± The walk gave them time to observe their potential competition¡ªother furniture shops, general goods stores, even a few specialty boutiques catering to more exotic tastes. None of them, Brakar noted with a mix of relief and concern, advertised any connection to semi-sentient inventory. They found Kip in his workshop, carefully sanding what looked like the beginnings of a new chair. The lizardman¡¯s movements were precise and deliberate, each stroke of the sandpaper following the wood¡¯s natural grain. He looked up as they entered. ¡°Ah, the new business owners.¡± His voice carried that same careful politeness they remembered. ¡°How may I assist you today?¡± ¡°Actually,¡± Thadan moved closer, ¡°we were hoping to get your advice. About running a furniture business.¡± Kip set down his sandpaper, giving them his full attention. ¡°I see. And what specific aspects interest you?¡± ¡°Everything?¡± Thadan¡¯s confidence wavered slightly under the lizardman¡¯s steady gaze. ¡°We... well, we know how to make furniture, sort of, but we don¡¯t really know how to sell it. Or display it. Or... run a business in general.¡± ¡°If I may suggest,¡± Kip¡¯s tone remained neutral, but something like amusement flickered in his eyes, ¡°perhaps a visit to an established furniture store would be educational? I would be happy to accompany you, point out various aspects of the trade.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Brakar couldn¡¯t quite keep the surprise from his voice. ¡°You¡¯d do that?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Kip carefully cleaned his hands on a workshop rag. ¡°It benefits all of us when new businesses succeed, especially in this district. Besides¡±¡ªa slight smile crossed his scaled features¡ª¡°I find myself curious about your enterprise.¡± They waited while Kip informed his colleagues of his temporary absence, then followed him through Ironweave¡¯s morning bustle. The lizardman moved with that same deliberate grace they¡¯d noticed before, his tail helping him maintain perfect balance as he navigated the crowded streets. ¡°If I may recommend,¡± he said as they walked, ¡°Greenwood Furnishings would be an excellent example to study. Their operation is neither too large nor too small, and they maintain a good balance between quality and affordability.¡± Brakar exchanged a glance with Thadan. They¡¯d expected to maybe get a few quick pointers, not a full guided tour of the industry. Kip¡¯s generosity was starting to make them both ?uncomfortable¡ªnot because they doubted his sincerity, but because they weren¡¯t used to people being helpful without ulterior motives. Greenwood Furnishings occupied a corner building two districts over, its large windows displaying an artful arrangement of chairs, tables, and various decorative pieces. The interior smelled of wood polish and leather, with carefully positioned mage-lights highlighting key pieces while creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. ¡°Observe,¡± Kip said softly as they entered, ¡°how the layout guides customers through the space. Major pathways are clear but not straight, encouraging exploration while preventing confusion.¡± Brakar found himself taking mental notes as Kip pointed out various details¡ªthe way different woods were grouped to create color harmony, how higher-end pieces were positioned to catch the natural light, the subtle ways the display encouraged customers to imagine the furniture in their own homes. A saleswoman approached a browsing couple, and Kip gestured for them to watch the interaction. Her approach was casual but professional, offering assistance without pressure. When the couple expressed interest in a particular dining set, she smoothly guided them to complementary pieces while answering their questions. ¡°Notice,¡± Kip murmured, ¡°how she focuses on the customers¡¯ needs rather than the sale itself. Building trust is essential in this business.¡± Thadan nodded, his expression unusually serious. ¡°People want to feel comfortable with their purchases, especially for something they¡¯ll live with every day.¡± ¡°Precisely.¡± Kip¡¯s approval was evident in his tone. ¡°Now, observe the front desk arrangement...¡± They dedicated the following hour to studying various aspects of the operation¡ªeverything from inventory management to customer flow patterns. Kip¡¯s commentary was consistently insightful, drawing from what was clearly years of experience in the trade. ¡°The desk,¡± Thadan said suddenly, interrupting Kip¡¯s explanation of wood grain matching techniques. ¡°Could you... would you be willing to help us build something similar? For our shop?¡± ¡°Thadan!¡± Brakar hissed, mortified by his friend¡¯s directness. But Kip merely smiled, his scaled features softening with genuine warmth. ¡°I would be honored to assist. A proper front desk is essential¡ªit sets the tone for the entire establishment, creates a focal point for customer interactions.¡± ¡°We can pay,¡± Thadan added quickly. ¡°I mean, not much, but¡ª¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± Kip interrupted gently, ¡°we could arrange a trade of services? I find myself intrigued by your unique approach to furniture making, if you¡¯d be amenable to discussing it further. I would be interested in future collaboration, should your enterprise prove successful.¡± Brakar felt a moment of panic at the thought of revealing their mimic-based business model to someone in the industry. But before he could intervene, Thadan was already agreeing enthusiastically. ¡°That would be perfect! We could definitely use your expertise, especially with some of our more... unusual pieces.¡± Kip¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly at the word ¡®unusual,¡¯ but he merely nodded. ¡°Excellent. Shall we discuss details over at your shop?¡± As they went back into the morning bustle, Brakar couldn¡¯t get rid of the feeling that they¡¯d just crossed some invisible line. The lizardman¡¯s kindness seemed genuine, but it also meant they now had obligations beyond their immediate circle¡ªexpectations to meet, trust to maintain. He glanced at Thadan, who caught his eye and grinned with characteristic optimism. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t all that bad. After all, they¡¯d survived dungeons, they¡¯d survived monsters, and they¡¯d survived their own questionable decisions. How much harder could running a legitimate business be? Sometimes, he reflected, the hardest part of starting a new venture wasn¡¯t the big challenges¡ªit was all the small details that could come back to bite you. Literally, in their case. Chapter 11: Shadows and Light Kip¡¯s casual mention of the underground market kept replaying in Brakar¡¯s ears. The lizardman¡¯s words had dropped into their conversation like stones into still water, sending ripples through Brakar¡¯s carefully maintained composure. ¡°The Undercroft Market might prove useful for your inventory needs. They trade in all manner of goods there¡ªsome quite exotic.¡± His tail swayed thoughtfully. ¡°Including living merchandise.¡± The clinical way he¡¯d said it, as if discussing the weather rather than slavery, made Brakar¡¯s stomach turn. Yet Kip¡¯s demeanor remained unchanged¡ªstill helpful, still courteous, still meticulously arranging his tools as he planned their front counter. Thadan, predictably, hadn¡¯t even blinked at the suggestion. He¡¯d simply nodded, that familiar calculating look crossing his face. ¡°We¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± he¡¯d said, and immediately steered the conversation back to wood types and finishing techniques. Kip knelt by the wall, his fingers skimming across the surface. ¡°If I may recommend, a counter of similar proportions to Greenwood¡¯s would suit this space admirably. Perhaps eight feet in length..." He pulled out a worn notebook, making precise marks with a stub of charcoal. ¡°Oak for the primary structure, I believe. The grain provides excellent durability." His tail swished methodically as he wrote. ¡°Though perhaps we might consider maple for the accent work. The contrast would be... most pleasing." ¡°Whatever you think is best." Thadan¡¯s voice carried that forced lightness he used when trying to change subjects. ¡°The height should match industry standard¡ªforty-two inches." Kip¡¯s claws clicked against his measuring tape. ¡°We¡¯ll want to include a recessed workspace on the customer-facing side. Perhaps with discrete compartments for document storage." Brakar watched the lizardman work, unable to reconcile this methodical craftsman with someone who¡¯d so casually suggested trafficking in living beings. ¡°If I may suggest, we should incorporate a slight overhang on the customer side. Thirty inches deep overall, with a fourteen-inch workspace." Kip¡¯s measuring tape snapped back with surgical precision. ¡°And naturally, we¡¯ll want to include proper support brackets every twenty-four inches." ¡°For the finish..." Kip consulted his notes again. ¡°Perhaps a combination of oils. Linseed as a base, with a touch of tung oil for depth. We¡¯ll want at least three coats, properly cured between appli¡­" Brakar felt Thadan¡¯s hand on his arm, pulling him aside. They moved to a corner of the shop while Kip continued his measurements, speaking in hushed tones that wouldn¡¯t carry. ¡°I know that look," Thadan said, his voice low. ¡°You¡¯re overthinking this." ¡°Am I?" Brakar glanced at Kip, who was now making detailed notes in a small leather-bound book. ¡°He just casually mentioned slave trading, Thad. Like he was suggesting a new supplier for wood polish." ¡°He¡¯s being generous with his time and expertise, and we can barely afford materials." Brakar¡¯s fingers worried at a loose thread on his sleeve. ¡°When you put it that way, it feels wrong taking advantage of an old craftsman like this." ¡°Kind old craftsman?" Thadan¡¯s mouth twitched. ¡°He¡¯s young." ¡°Young? He has to be at least¡ª" ¡°One hundred and twenty, give or take. It means he¡¯s basically a teenager by their standards." Thadan ran a hand through his hair, like he always does when he¡¯s working through a complex problem. ¡°Think about it¡ªhe¡¯s got all the technical skills of his race, all their accumulated knowledge, but he¡¯s still developing their cultural understanding. To him, the underground market is just... another market." The explanation made a certain twisted sense, but it didn¡¯t entirely settle the unease in Brakar¡¯s stomach. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it right." ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t." Thadan¡¯s expression softened slightly. ¡°But it means we don¡¯t have to write him off completely. He¡¯s learning, just like we are. Just... in different areas." ¡°Still doesn¡¯t solve how we¡¯re going to pay him for all this." ¡°Let me worry about that part. Besides, he doesn¡¯t want to be paid." ¡°We should get back," Thadan said finally. ¡°We still need his help with the counter, and..." He hesitated. ¡°We need to check on our inventory." Before Brakar could respond, Kip¡¯s voice carried across the room. ¡°If I may interrupt?" The lizardman gestured to his notes. ¡°I believe I have a preliminary design that would suit your needs. Perhaps we could discuss the details?" They spent the next hour reviewing Kip¡¯s plans, which were impressively detailed. The counter he proposed would incorporate elements from the one they¡¯d admired at Greenwood Furnishings, but with subtle modifications that would better suit their space. Every suggestion came with careful explanation, each decision supported by years of experience that seemed at odds with his supposed youth. As Kip walked them through the design¡¯s finer points, Brakar found his thoughts drifting to the mimics in the backroom. They¡¯d left them in various states of furniture-hood after yesterday¡¯s excitement, trusting in his ability to keep them docile.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°The finish would need at least three days to properly cure,¡± Kip was saying, his claw tip tracing a particularly intricate detail in his sketches. ¡°Though in this climate, I¡¯d recommend allowing a full week.¡± Thadan¡¯s expression shifted to what Brakar privately thought of as his ¡®about to suggest something terrible¡¯ face. ¡°Brak, come with me to the back.¡± ¡°Alright, what brilliant idea just hit you?¡± ¡°Remember those little mimics? The ones you put to sleep?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not asleep, they¡¯re in a suspended¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. Can you make them turn into lanterns?¡± Thadan asked, crouching down to eye level with one of the smaller mimics and squinting at it. ¡°Theoretically. But transforming that many at once would drain me completely,¡± Brakar said, casually lifting one of the mimics to inspect it. ¡°Perfect!¡± ¡°Not perfect. I¡¯d be useless for at least a day.¡± ¡°So take tomorrow off.¡± ¡°And leave you unsupervised with a shop full of predatory furniture?¡± ¡°Give me some credit.¡± ¡°I have. That¡¯s why I¡¯m worried,¡± Brakar said. ¡°Look, just hear me out. What if we rented them?¡± ¡°Rented... lanterns?¡± ¡°Think about it¡ªfancy parties, outdoor events, mood lighting that actually understands mood...¡± ¡°And occasionally eats the guests?¡± ¡°Will you stop with the eating thing?¡± Thadan asked. ¡°I will not.¡± ¡°Fine. But imagine: self-adjusting brightness, perfect positioning, atmospheric effects...¡± ¡°Yeah yeah, I get it.¡± ¡°Right? Plus, we control the rental duration. No long-term commitment, no risk of them getting too hungry...¡± ¡°So you want me to exhaust myself turning predators into party decorations?¡± ¡°When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.¡± ¡°It is ridiculous.¡± ¡°But you¡¯ll do it?¡± ¡°...give me an hour and it¡¯ll be done,¡± Brakar said. ¡°Have I mentioned you¡¯re my favorite business partner?¡± ¡°I¡¯m your only business partner.¡± ¡°Detai¨C¡± ¡°Don¡¯t even.¡± With that, Thadan disappeared back into the main shop, leaving Brakar alone with their slumbering inventory. The mimics lay still, their surfaces occasionally rippling like disturbed puddles. In sleep, they looked almost peaceful¡ªit was easy to forget their natural state involved significantly more teeth. Brakar took a deep breath, centered himself, and began the delicate process of reshaping predators into products. His fingers traced loops and zigzags in front of him, like someone drawing a maze in the air. His magic, always slightly askew, flowed into the first mimic like water finding its own peculiar path downhill. ¡°Becomme chaair," he intoned, his free hand sketching quick squares and triangles while his right drew bigger circles. ¡°Stayy chaair until I sayy differentt." The mimic rippled in recognition, its essence resonating with those imperfect sounds. Where a proper mage would force their will through precise magical formulae, Brakar¡¯s power meandered like a drunken storyteller eventually reaching the point. The mimic¡¯s form followed his mangled spellwork, flowing from one shape to another as if translating his magical dialect into physical form. While his magic was flawed, the transformations were not. Furniture that defied convention yet felt more fitting because of it. Brakar maintained the connection, his fingers still drawing invisible shapes as his magical accent grew thicker. The creature transformed, its form becoming a warm, metallic sheen. Brass emerged from biological matter, catching and amplifying the available light. The transformation complete, an elegant lamp stood where a monster had been moments before. Each conversion proved unique. The second mimic became an iron lantern with thick, protective glass that diffused its light into a comforting glow. The third took on an iridescent quality, its surface creating rainbow refractions that danced across the walls. A sky-blue specimen transformed into something that resembled captured waves, its light rippling like sunlight through water. Another, particularly viscous individual, became a rounded lamp whose surface seemed to pulse with its own gentle respiration. With each transformation, Brakar felt his magical reserves depleting. The process required not just power but precision¡ªeach spell had to account for the mimic¡¯s natural tendencies while imposing new forms and behaviors. His unique magical ¡°accent" turned out to be perfect here, the slight distortions in his spellcasting somehow aligning with the mimics¡¯ own fluid nature. The last mimic, roughly the size of a breadbox, proved particularly challenging. Whether due to its size or Brakar¡¯s exhaustion, the transformation felt like pushing through thick mud. At last, it yielded, becoming a copper lantern adorned with wire patterns that resembled frozen music. Seventeen transformations. Seventeen former predators now masquerading as innocent illumination. Brakar¡¯s legs trembled with fatigue as he surveyed his work. The room now glowed with varied lights¡ªwarm brass, cool iron, rainbow shimmer and watery ripple. It was beautiful, in its way, though he couldn¡¯t quite forget what lay beneath the artful surfaces. From the main room came the sound of Thadan and Kip discussing wood types and joint techniques. Their voices mixed with the soft light from the transformed mimics, creating an almost peaceful atmosphere. Almost. Brakar slumped against the wall, his magical reserves completely depleted. The lanterns glowed steadily, showing no sign of their true nature. He wondered, not for the first time, what they thought about all this¡ªif they thought at all. Did they understand the changes being imposed upon them? Did they resent the transformations, or did they find some satisfaction in their new purposes? A particularly artistic lantern¡ªthe one with rainbow refractions¡ªmade a small correction, adjusting its angle to cast its light more effectively across the room. The movement was so subtle, so purposeful, that it might have gone unnoticed by someone less familiar with mimic behavior. But Brakar saw it, and in that small adjustment he recognized something beyond mere magical compulsion. These weren¡¯t just transformed monsters or enchanted objects. They were something new, something between predator and product, nature and artifice. And now they were his responsibility¡ªhis and Thadan¡¯s, though he suspected he¡¯d end up handling most of the actual care and maintenance. From the main room, Thadan¡¯s voice rose in excitement over some detail of counter construction. Brakar closed his eyes, letting the various lights play across his eyelids while his friend¡¯s enthusiasm mixed with Kip¡¯s measured responses. The combination created its own pattern, its own rhythm of light and sound. Before exhaustion claimed him, Brakar noticed the lanterns had adjusted their illumination to complement his rest¡ªtheir light dimming to a soft, steady glow that seemed almost protective. He drifted off, wondering what new challenges awaited them under tomorrow¡¯s sun. Seventeen lanterns stood watch, their light steady but their nature unchanged, as the shadows outside deepened and the city continued its restless rhythm. Chapter 12: Lanterns and Lies Thadan stepped inside the Patchwork Post. His steps were loud, produced by his boots hitting the worn wooden floorboards. As he walked into the establishment, he was thankful for the building¡¯s haphazard modifications over the years to accommodate different species, because now he got to ?s?c?a?m? approach them for his own interests. A trio of dwarven warriors huddled near the main quest board, their leather armor creaking as they debated the merits of various postings. Perfect targets. Thadan adjusted his posture, adopting the easy confidence that had served him well in countless negotiations, and approached. ¡°Gentlemen," he began, reaching into his satchel. ¡°Might I interest you in¡ª" ¡°No." The lead dwarf didn¡¯t even look up from the board. ¡°You haven¡¯t heard my offer." ¡°Don¡¯t need to." The dwarf¡¯s beard twitched with barely contained amusement. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re selling, we¡¯ve got our own." Thadan revealed one of their transformed mimics¡ªcurrently masquerading as an elegant brass lantern with leaf patterns that seemed to shift in the light. ¡°Even never-extinguishing lanterns? Guaranteed to burn for weeks without refueling?" Now the dwarves did turn, their expressions full with skepticism and barely concealed mirth. The leader¡ªdistinguished by an impressive braided beard adorned with bronze rings¡ªactually chuckled. ¡°Never-extinguishing, eh?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully. ¡°And I suppose it also grants wishes and brews ale?" ¡°As a matter of fact¡ª" ¡°Save it for the tourists, lad." The dwarf waved him off, turning back to the quest board. ¡°We¡¯ve seen every scam from here to the Deepmark. At least make up something believable next time." The dismissal stung, but Thadan had faced worse. He retreated strategically, positioning himself near Ms. Thornberry¡¯s desk where he could observe the flow of potential customers. The clerk herself sat at her elevated platform, methodically stamping documents while somehow maintaining an air of both complete focus and total awareness of her surroundings. Two human rangers entered, their leather armor still muddy from recent travels. Thadan started to move toward them, but their quick glance and quicker exit suggested they¡¯d already been warned about the ¡°lantern salesman." Word traveled fast in adventuring circles, especially when it came to potential scams. Not a scam, he wanted to protest. Just... creatively reimagined merchandise. A group of young mages proved equally unreceptive, though at least they were polite about it. Their leader, a half-elf with more scrolls than sense, actually took the time to explain why perpetual light sources were theoretically impossible according to the latest thaumaturgical research. Thadan let him ramble, noting several points that would help refine their sales pitch. The morning wore on. Thadan watched as adventurers came and went, each group following the same basic pattern¡ªcheck the board, register with Ms. Thornberry, gather supplies, head out. Occasionally, someone would post a new quest, adding to the colorful tapestry of parchment that dominated the hall¡¯s far wall. He¡¯d just about decided to try his luck at one of the other guild halls when Ms. Thornberry¡¯s voice appeared out of nowhere. ¡°Still peddling those mysterious lanterns?" She didn¡¯t look up from her stamping, but her tone carried a hint of amusement. ¡°Or have you finally decided to return to honest work?" ¡°This is honest work," Thadan protested, approaching her desk. That damn scent of ink and sealing wax grew stronger. ¡°I¡¯m providing a valuable service to the adventuring community." ¡°Mmhmm." She set aside her stamp, after a long pause meeting his gaze with those sharp amber eyes. ¡°And I suppose next you¡¯ll tell me the sewers clean themselves?" ¡°That was different." Thadan fought back a grimace at the memory. ¡°You said it would be an easy job." ¡°It was easy." Ms. Thornberry¡¯s weathered features crinkled with suppressed mirth. ¡°Just messy. And you did get paid." ¡°After three days of scrubbing magical residue off tunnel walls!" The smell had lingered for weeks, no matter how many cleaning charms Brakar had tried. ¡°Some of those stains were older than I am. Even older than you." ¡°Builds character." She shuffled through a stack of papers, pulling out several with practiced efficiency. ¡°Speaking of building character, I¡¯ve got some nice, simple quests here. Perfect for getting back into the swing of things." ¡°I¡¯m retired." ¡°You¡¯re twenty-five." ¡°Professionally retired," he amended. ¡°The lantern business is my future now." Ms. Thornberry¡¯s expression suggested exactly what she thought of that future, but before she could respond, movement near the quest board caught both their attention. The quest board¡¯s weathered surface had drawn a small crowd, centered around a merfolk woman whose opalescent skin shifted between deep blues and teals as she studied the postings intently.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°A magic lantern that never goes out?" she said loudly, her silver-white hair getting all the attention as she turned away with a sharp laugh that drew several glances. ¡°Please. I¡¯ve seen better scams in the copper mines." Perfect, Thadan thought. Shadowpriests always need reliable light sources. He approached with his best merchant¡¯s smile, already reaching for their most impressive sample. The lantern¡¯s brass surface caught the light perfectly, its leaf patterns creating subtle moving shadows. She took two steps, then froze. Her skin lightened to a pale blue. ¡°Wait. Thadan? Thadan Brightsteel?" ¡°Heard of me?" he asked, though he already knew where this was going. ¡°Professor Brightsteel¡¯s shadow-light manipulation theories are required reading at the Academy. His positioning techniques revolutionized small-unit tactics." Her webbed hands made simple, deliberate movements. ¡°Though I never expected to find his son here, of all places, selling..." ¡°Questionable merchandise?" ¡°Precisely." ¡°Trust me, neither did he." ¡°Such potential, such legacy¡ª" Her skin darkened as she paced a tight circle. ¡°To think, a Brightsteel reduced to... Do you have any idea how many students would kill for your inherited understanding of tactical theory?" ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re one of them?" ¡°Some of us do value responsibility and proper application of knowledge." Her fingers drummed against her thigh. ¡°My team is preparing for an Orichalcum-rank challenge. We could use someone with your background." ¡°I¡¯m retired." ¡°Clearly." She pulled out a small leather notebook, her skin cycling through shades of teal. ¡°Though I do wonder what your father would think of this... career change." ¡°Good luck with your quest." Her pen scratched against the paper as she walked away, muttering about wasted potential. Before Thadan could process the encounter, a new voice made its way through the increasingly awkward moment. ¡°Excuse me." The words came out like gravel through honey¡ªdeep, rough, but somehow sweet. ¡°But did you say never-extinguishing lanterns?" Thadan turned to find himself facing an orange-skinned orc in priest¡¯s robes. The unusual citrus coloring marked him as someone who¡¯d spent significant time channeling holy magic, the divine energy literally staining his flesh over years of exposure. Despite his imposing size, his posture suggested someone more comfortable with paperwork than combat. ¡°Yes!" Thadan seized the opportunity to escape Rytha¡¯s knowing smirk. ¡°Designed to operate for weeks without requiring refueling. Perfect for extended underground work.¡± The orc¡¯s expression brightened, which on his citrus-tinted features created an almost luminous effect. ¡°Wonderful! I¡¯ve got cave inspection duty this month¡ªgot stuck with it after showing up late to the assignment meeting." He grimaced. ¡°Need to certify them as properly monster-inhabited for tax purposes, but they¡¯re full of Inverse Bats." ¡°Inverse... Bats?" Thadan had never heard of such creatures, which after years of adventuring was something of an achievement. ¡°Nasty things." The orc made a gesture that somehow conveyed both professional disapproval and personal disgust. ¡°All their bones and organs are on the outside. They hunt by extending their ribcages to trap prey." He shuddered, which on his massive frame looked like a small earthquake. ¡°Anyway, a reliable light source would save me significant mana. Can¡¯t keep casting illumination spells while documenting everything." Behind them, Rytha made a small noise. It was amusement, although Thadan thought it was disdain. Before finally departing, her notebook was still open as she made additional notes. Thadan deliberately ignored her exit, focusing instead on what might be their first actual customer. ¡°How long is the inspection process?" he asked, already calculating rental rates in his head. ¡°Several days at least." The orc pulled out a thick sheaf of official forms. ¡°Have to document every chamber, note all signs of habitation, verify proper monster density ratios..." He sighed. ¡°Bureaucracy, you know?" Thadan did know, though usually from the other side of such proceedings. ¡°We can definitely help with that. Our lanterns are specifically designed for extended use in hostile environments." The orc¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ¡°And the cost?" ¡°Very reasonable." Thadan named a figure that made the orc¡¯s eyebrows rise slightly. ¡°But consider the savings in magical energy, not to mention the convenience of reliable illumination in possibly hazardous conditions." ¡°True..." The orc thumbed through his forms again, perhaps mentally comparing costs. ¡°And you said they¡¯re guaranteed for several weeks?" ¡°Absolutely." Thadan carefully didn¡¯t mention exactly how they maintained that guarantee. Some details were better left to the fine print. ¡°We even provide a special feeding solution to maintain optimal performance." ¡°Feeding solution?" ¡°Proprietary blend of magical nutrients," Thadan explained smoothly. ¡°Helps maintain the enchantment¡¯s stability." The orc considered this, scrunching in concentration. After a short grunt, he nodded. ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve convinced me. Better than trying to maintain light spells while writing down ribcage measurements anyway." ¡°Excellent choice!" Thadan produced their rental agreement with practiced flourish. ¡°Now, regarding payment terms..." As they worked through the contract details, Thadan caught Ms. Thornberry watching from her desk, her expression unreadable. She¡¯d known his father too, he remembered suddenly. Had probably processed hundreds of quest registrations for the great Thadan Brightsteel over the years. Let her watch, he thought defiantly. This is my path now. The orc¡¯s massive finger carefully traced each line of the contract, his priestly training evident in his methodical review. Thadan used the time to examine their first customer more closely, identifying anything to enhance their marketing strategy. The careful way he handled paperwork despite his size, the slight magical residue that clung to his robes, the professional dignity that seemed at odds with his current task¡ªall valuable information for targeting similar clients. ¡°One question," the orc said finally, tapping a particular clause. ¡°This bit about ¡®maintaining appropriate feeding schedules¡¯¡ªseems unusually specific for a simple lantern rental." ¡°Quality control," Thadan replied smoothly. ¡°The enchantment requires regular maintenance to prevent degradation. Nothing to worry about." The orc made a thoughtful sound but signed anyway, his signature surprisingly delicate for hands that could probably crush stone. As Thadan processed the payment, he caught fragments of conversation from nearby adventurers¡ªsomething about the Sweetwater Cistern being reopened for maintenance contracts. Not my problem anymore, he reminded himself firmly. We¡¯re legitimate businessmen now. The orc accepted the brass lantern carefully, testing its weight and balance with professional attention to detail. ¡°Interesting craftsmanship," he murmured, studying the patterns. ¡°Almost seems alive..." ¡°Just a trick of the light," Thadan assured him quickly. ¡°Now, about that feeding schedule, perhaps we should discuss the details at my shop? It¡¯s just down Merchant¡¯s End." Thadan led the way to his shop, eager to get the contract signed before the orc could change his mind about renting a suspiciously lifelike lantern. Chapter 13: Sleepy Beauty and the Beast LANTERN RENTAL AGREEMENT I, [Lessee¡¯s Name], hereby agree to rent one (1) Never-Extinguishing Lantern from [Lessor¡¯s Name]. under the following terms: RENTAL PERIOD: TERMS & CONDITIONS:
  1. Renter agrees to return the lantern in the same condition as received
  2. Lantern must be kept dry and handled with reasonable care
  3. Do not attempt to disassemble or modify the lantern
  4. Feed lantern one (1) vial of provided luminescence solution every 30 days
  5. Do not expose lantern to extreme heat or cold
FAILURE TO RETURN: DAMAGE POLICY: By signing below, renter acknowledges understanding and acceptance of these terms. Lessee¡¯s Signature: ________________ Guild Rank: ________________ Registration Number: ________________ Lessor¡¯s signature: ________________ Date: ________________ [Official Seal of Ironweave Commerce Guild] Every step the orc priest took made Thadan wince¡ªnot because the massive holy man might break their newly cleaned floors, but because each creak seemed to draw his face into deeper levels of skepticism. By the time he reached the water stains near the foundation, his expression had evolved from doubtful to actively suspicious to something Thadan had previously only seen on Ms. Thornberry¡¯s face when he tried to expense dragon-hunting supplies for a rat-catching job. ¡°My party¡¯s artificer warned me about buying magical items from unknown merchants." ¡°Completely understandable. Which is why we¡¯re not selling¡ªjust renting. And look." Thadan pulled out an official-looking document. ¡°We¡¯ve got proper contracts, guild registra¡ª everything completely legitimate." ¡°Hm." The orc squinted at the paper. ¡°These terms seem... reasonable." ¡°Three copper per day is practically giving them away. But we¡¯re new to the area, trying to build a reputation." ¡°And this... luminescence solution?" ¡°Proprietary blend. Helps maintain the enchantment¡¯s stability. For two days you won¡¯t need it, but I¡¯ll throw in a vial just in case. You know how dungeon expeditions can go.¡± Thadan winked with the confidence of someone who¡¯d never successfully winked in his life. ¡°Am I right?" ¡°I am conducting an official inspection, not some foolhardy treasure hunt," the orc grunted. ¡°Of course, of course. My apologies. Now, if I could just get your name for the contract?" ¡°Othh¡¯nam¡¯?b-Br?ghan M?zg¡¯rg-U¡¯fthgarz." Thadan¡¯s quill froze mid-stroke. ¡°I... uh..." ¡°It means ¡®He Who Speaks Truth to Morning Stars¡¯ in the ancient tongue." ¡°Right. Look, can I just call you ¡®Othh?¡¯" The orc¡¯s citrus complexion turned almost crimson. ¡°That would bring dishonor to seven generations of my bloodline." ¡°Seven generations. Of course." Thadan dipped his quill again. ¡°Let me just get this exactly right then. Wouldn¡¯t want to misrepresent any ancestors." He squinted at the parchment. ¡°Pardon, but is that with two apostrophes or three?" ¡°Each apostrophe represents a sacred battle where my ancestors proved their worth through honorable combat." ¡°So... three?" ¡°Four, actually. The third one is silent." ¡°Naturally." Thadan¡¯s quill scratched carefully across the parchment. ¡°And the circumflex over the ¡®?¡¯?" ¡°Represents the tears of our enemies." ¡°Just checking." Thadan finished writing with a flourish. ¡°Now, just to confirm rental duration¡ªyou said forty-eight hours?" ¡°Two days should suffice for initial assessment." ¡°Perfect. Sign here, and... here. And don¡¯t worry about the feeding schedule for such a short rental. Though as I mentioned, I¡¯ve included a vial of solution, just in case anything unexpected¡ª" ¡°Nothing unexpected will occur during a routine cave inspection." ¡°Of course not. My mistake." Thadan stamped the contract and handed over the lantern. ¡°Pleasure doing business with you." The orc cradled the lantern with surprising gentleness. He gave a formal bow and departed, making the floorboards protest one final time. Thadan watched him go, then carefully filed away their first completed rental agreement. He exhaled, rubbing his tired eyes. A single rental was a modest start, but his throat was raw from countless sales pitches to dubious adventurers. His legs ached from patrolling the Post, and now exhaustion draped over him. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The shop¡¯s main room was quiet again. The mimic-chair beside it maintained its perfect posture, though Thadan swore it followed his movements¡ªlike a dog tracking its master. He made his way to the mimic-sofa. The cushions seemed to adjust themselves as he approached, conforming to his preferred sitting position before he even made contact. At least someone¡¯s happy to see me, he thought, collapsing onto the surprisingly comfortable surface. The leather was cool against his skin, with that peculiar texture that all their transformed mimics shared¡ªsomewhere between well-worn hide and living tissue. His muscles slowly unknotted as he sank deeper into the cushions. The sofa¡¯s subtle movements, almost imperceptible shifts and adjustments, should have been unsettling. Instead, he found them oddly soothing, like being cradled by something that put in effort to care about his comfort. Even the faint organic scent, a mix of leather and something indefinably alive, had become familiar enough to be comforting. The events of the day played through his mind: Ms. Thornberry¡¯s knowing looks, Rytha¡¯s cutting remarks about wasted potential, the endless parade of skeptical adventurers. At least the orc priest had actually rented one of their lanterns, though Thadan still wasn¡¯t entirely sure he¡¯d spelled the man¡¯s name correctly on the contract. His eyelids grew heavy as exhaustion caught up with him. The sofa seemed to cradle him more securely, its surface warming just enough to match his body temperature. The shop¡¯s ambient sounds¡ªcreaking wood, settling foundations, the distant bustle of Merchant¡¯s End¡ªfaded into a gentle white noise. As consciousness slipped away, his thoughts drifted to another time, another place... The garden behind The Laughing Crow smelled of herbs and summer wine. Meyla¡¯s father had planted every variety that might be useful in his tavern¡¯s kitchen, creating a maze of raised beds and climbing vines that provided perfect hiding spots for two young people seeking privacy. ¡°Your hair¡¯s getting long," Meyla murmured, running her fingers through the dark strands. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent. ¡°Father says you¡¯re starting to look like a proper Vylari man." Thadan leaned into her touch, enjoying the way afternoon sunlight played across her features. The Vylari were known for their striking appearance¡ªtall, graceful, with skin that seemed to catch and hold light like alabaster. Meyla had inherited all of those traits, along with eyes the color of storm clouds and hair like spun copper. ¡°Would that be so terrible?" he asked, watching a butterfly dance between the herb plants. ¡°Becoming Vylari?" ¡°You¡¯d have to learn our songs." Her fingers traced patterns against his scalp. ¡°All seventeen thousand verses." ¡°I thought it was eighteen thousand?" ¡°Showing off won¡¯t help." But her smile took any sting from the words. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re terrible at singing." ¡°I could learn." ¡°Mmm." Her touch moved to the nape of his neck, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. ¡°And what would your father say about that?" The question should have bothered him, should have sparked the familiar anger and resentment. But here, in this moment, with her fingers in his hair and the scent of herbs all around them, nothing could touch his peace. ¡°He¡¯d probably write a strongly worded letter," Thadan mused. ¡°Possibly two, if he was feeling particularly disappointed." Meyla¡¯s laugh was like wind chimes in a summer breeze. ¡°Only two? My father would write at least five, with copies sent to every elder in the city." ¡°We could run away." The words slipped out before he could stop them. ¡°Just... leave. Find our own place, somewhere no one knows our names or cares about proper traditions." Her fingers stilled. ¡°Thadan..." ¡°I know, I know." He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm. ¡°Just dreaming." ¡°Dreams are dangerous things." But she didn¡¯t pull away. ¡°They make us want impossible things." ¡°Like a Brightsteel and a Vylari together?" ¡°Like happiness without complications." Her touch resumed its gentle exploration. ¡°Like love without consequences." They sat in comfortable silence as shadows lengthened across the garden. Somewhere beyond the herb beds, kitchen staff prepared for the evening rush, the clatter of pots and pans a distant counterpoint to the buzz of insects and rustle of leaves. ¡°We could make it work," he said when he spoke again. ¡°If we really tried." ¡°Could we?" Her voice held no judgment, only genuine curiosity. ¡°Would you really be happy, living by our customs? Following our ways?" ¡°I¡¯d learn." ¡°Like you learned the proper forms for advanced shadow manipulation?" ¡°In what world is that the same thing?" He shifted slightly, though her fingers kept their gentle rhythm. ¡°Those were just arbitrary rules my father invented." ¡°And our customs aren¡¯t arbitrary?" She sounded amused now. ¡°The seventeen thousand verses? The ritual greetings? The proper way to pour tea while reciting your ancestry?" ¡°Eighteen thousand," he corrected automatically, earning another laugh. ¡°See? You¡¯re learning already." Her touch moved to his temples, tracing small circles that seemed to ease away every tension, every worry. The garden¡¯s scents intensified¡ªthyme and rosemary, sage and summer savory, all mingling with the distinctive sweetness of Vylari wine herbs that only grew in soil blessed by their priests. ¡°I miss this," he murmured, though that wasn¡¯t quite right. This moment hadn¡¯t ended yet, was still happening around them in an eternal afternoon of herbs and sunlight and gentle touches. ¡°Miss what?" Her fingers moved in steady patterns, like she was weaving spells through his hair. ¡°You. Us. This garden." The words came slowly, dream-logic making everything a bit fuzzy around the edges. ¡°Sometimes I think... I think I made a mistake." ¡°Did you?" Her touch grew cooler, almost cold against his skin. ¡°Which mistake would that be?" ¡°Leaving. Running away. Never looking back." The chill spread from her fingers, seeping into his scalp. ¡°I should have fought harder. Should have found a way..." ¡°Should have, could have, would have." Her voice seemed different now, though he couldn¡¯t quite place how. ¡°So many regrets for someone so young." The cold sensation intensified, moving down his neck, across his shoulders. The garden¡¯s scents faded, replaced by something else¡ªleather and metal and that indefinable quality of living tissue. ¡°Meyla?" Her fingers felt wrong now, more like... like... Something cold and distinctly slimy wrapped around his ankle. Thadan¡¯s eyes snapped open, dream-scents vanishing as reality reasserted itself with brutal clarity. He was in the shop, on the mimic-sofa, and that sensation around his ankle was definitely not Meyla¡¯s gentle touch. The mimic¡¯s tongue¡ªbecause that¡¯s what it had to be (what he hoped it would be)¡ªretracted quickly as he sat up. By the time he¡¯d fully processed what had happened, the sofa looked completely normal again, its cushions arranged in perfect innocence as if it hadn¡¯t just been sampling his leg. ¡°Did you just...?" He examined his ankle, finding it damp but otherwise unmarked. ¡°Were you tasting me?" The sofa maintained its furniture-like dignity, though its leather surface seemed to quiver with either sheepishness or appetite. Thadan considered calling for Brakar, then decided against it. His friend had enough to worry about without adding ¡°potentially peckish furniture" to the list. Besides, to his surprise, the mimic hadn¡¯t tried to eat him. If anything, the touch had been almost... cautious. Like a cat checking if its human was still breathing. ¡°Right." He stood slowly, keeping a careful eye on the sofa. ¡°Let¡¯s just agree that was a one-time thing, shall we? No midnight snacking on the business partners." The sofa¡¯s cushions adjusted themselves, which he chose to take as agreement rather than anticipation of future meals. Regardless, he decided to ask Brakar about feeding schedules. Just in case. Outside, Merchant¡¯s End¡¯s evening traffic created a steady background of footsteps and voices. A cool breeze carried the scent of approaching rain¡ªreal scents, not the dream-memory of herb gardens and summer wine. The mimic-sofa remained perfectly still, its iridescent leather catching the last rays of daylight. Thadan found himself touching his hair, half-expecting to feel the ghost of gentle fingers weaving through the strands. Instead, he felt only the lingering dampness where something decidedly less gentle had investigated his ankle. ¡°Gods," he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. ¡°I need a fucking break." Chapter 14: Lantern in the Dark Brakar stared at the parchment in his hands, his vision blurring as rage and disbelief fought for dominance. Not even his third cup of coffee could give him the patience needed to process the staggering inadequacy of what Thadan dared to call a rental agreement. ¡°This..." His fingers tightened on the rental agreement, crinkling its edges. ¡°This is the contract you¡¯re using?" ¡°Got us our first customer!" Thadan burst through the door, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. His smile faltered when he saw Brakar¡¯s expression. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?" ¡°What¡¯s wrong?" Brakar¡¯s voice came out as a strangled whisper. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?" He stood abruptly, sending the mimic-chair skittering backward. ¡°Have you actually read this... this travesty of legal documentation?" ¡°Of course I read it. I wrote it!" Thadan¡¯s pride withered under Brakar¡¯s glare. ¡°Well, most of it. Some parts I borrowed from other contracts." ¡°Borrowed." Brakar gave his nose a quick pinch. ¡°You borrowed legal language without understanding its implications?" ¡°Is that... bad?" ¡°Bad?" Brakar slapped the contract against Kip¡¯s crafted desk. ¡°Let me explain exactly how bad this is." He jabbed a finger at the first paragraph. ¡°Your definition of ¡®reasonable care¡¯ is so vague it wouldn¡¯t hold up in a children¡¯s game of merchant, let alone a real court." ¡°I can fix¡ª" ¡°The damage clause!" Brakar was pacing now, gesturing with the increasingly wrinkled document. ¡°You¡¯ve specified penalties for ¡®minor¡¯ and ¡®major¡¯ damage without defining either term. What¡¯s stopping someone from returning a lantern in pieces and claiming it¡¯s ¡®minor¡¯ because they kept all the parts?" Thadan opened his mouth, then closed it. ¡°And this!" Brakar nearly choked on his own indignation. ¡°This clause about feeding schedules? You¡¯ve made us legally responsible for providing ¡®luminescence solution¡¯ without any protection against reverse engineering. Someone could analyze it, replicate it, and start competing with us¡ªusing our own contract as proof they obtained it legally!" ¡°But the formula¡ª" ¡°Is proprietary? Where does it say that? Where¡¯s the non-disclosure agreement? Where¡¯s the clause preventing chemical analysis?" Brakar¡¯s free hand tangled in his hair. ¡°Gods, Thadan, you didn¡¯t even include a proper jurisdiction clause. If something goes wrong, which city¡¯s laws apply? Which guild has authority?" ¡°I... didn¡¯t think¡ª" ¡°Exactly! You didn¡¯t think!" Brakar threw his hands up, sending the contract floating toward the ceiling. ¡°We¡¯re renting out mimics, Thadan. Living creatures disguised as objects. This contract offers zero protection against liability. None!" The contract drifted down like a leaf, landing on the sofa. ¡°What if someone gets bitten?" Brakar continued, his voice rising with each scenario. ¡°What if a mimic decides it¡¯s hungry and reverts form in the middle of a dungeon? What if someone dies because their ¡®never-extinguishing¡¯ lantern suddenly develops an appetite for fingers?" ¡°That... probably won¡¯t happen?" Thadan offered weakly. ¡°Probably?" Brakar grabbed the contract from the sofa, which had been slowly trying to digest it. ¡°Probably isn¡¯t good enough when we¡¯re dealing with creatures known for eating adventurers!" He smoothed the somewhat wet parchment against the desk, pointing to specific lines with trembling fingers. ¡°Your late fees are inconsistent with guild standards. Your security deposit is insultingly low for a supposedly magical item. You haven¡¯t included any clauses about proper storage conditions, temperature limitations, or exposure to magical fields." Each point made Thadan shrink further into himself. ¡°And don¡¯t even get me started on the liability waiver¡ªor rather, the complete lack of one!" ¡°I just wanted to keep it simple," Thadan mumbled. ¡°Simple?" Brakar laughed, a sound entirely devoid of humor. ¡°You know what¡¯s simple? Bankruptcy. Imprisonment for fraud. Having our business shut down before we even properly start." The mimic-chair chose that moment to scoot closer to Thadan, perhaps offering moral support. Unfortunately, its movement only served to emphasize Brakar¡¯s point about their merchandise being conspicuously alive. ¡°We need..." Brakar took a deep breath, trying to center himself. ¡°We need proper contracts. Real ones. With explicit terms, clear definitions, and enough legal protection to satisfy even the most pedantic guild inspector." ¡°Can you help with that?" Thadan asked hopefully. ¡°Can I..." Brakar deflated, his anger giving way to exhaustion. ¡°Yes, I can help. I¡¯ve read enough contracts at the library to know what we need. But it¡¯s going to take time. And you can¡¯t rent out any more mimics until we have proper documentation." ¡°What about the orc priest? He already has one." ¡°Gods." Brakar sank into the mimic-sofa. ¡°We¡¯ll have to hope he returns it without incident. And pray to whatever deities might be listening that he doesn¡¯t care what it is." ¡°He seemed very... by-the-book," Thadan offered. ¡°Probably won¡¯t even notice anything strange." ¡°Unless it gets hungry." Brakar covered his eyes with his palms. ¡°Did you at least give him detailed feeding instructions?" ¡°About that..." Thadan shuffled his feet. ¡°I might have told him he wouldn¡¯t need to feed it for such a short rental period." The mimic-sofa gave a small shudder, which Brakar chose to interpret as sympathetic distress rather than suppressed laughter. ¡°Right." Brakar lowered his hands. ¡°So we have an unfed mimic, disguised as a lantern, in the possession of a holy man who literally glows with divine energy. What could go wrong?" ¡°He¡¯s only renting it for two days," Thadan said quickly. ¡°And I gave him a vial of solution just in case." ¡°Did you label the vial with proper safety warnings? Usage instructions? Storage requirements?" Thadan¡¯s silence was answer enough. ¡°Perfect." Brakar leaned back, letting the mimic-sofa work its strange comfort magic on his tense muscles. ¡°We¡¯ll need to prepare for every possible scenario. If the lantern tries to eat him¡ª" ¡°It won¡¯t!" ¡°If it tries," Brakar continued, firm, ¡°we need a plan. Multiple plans. And proper contracts for future rentals, assuming we survive this first one without being arrested for criminal negligence." The shop fell quiet except for the sounds of Merchant¡¯s End¡¯s traffic and Thadan¡¯s feet moving from sheer nervousness. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I¡¯m sorry," Thadan said finally. ¡°I got excited about making our first sale¡ªrental¡ªwhatever. Should have waited for you to review everything." Brakar sighed. ¡°At least you registered the business properly with the guild?" ¡°About that..." ¡°Thadan!" ¡°I was going to! But the registration office was closed for lunch, and then I saw the orc priest looking at the quest board, and everything happened so fast..." Brakar pressed his fingers to his temples, where a headache was building with impressive speed. ¡°So we¡¯re not only renting out potentially dangerous creatures under an illegitimate contract, we¡¯re doing it without proper business registration?" ¡°When you put it like that, it sounds pretty bad." ¡°It sounds like we¡¯re going to spend our first profits on bribing our way out of prison." Brakar straightened suddenly. ¡°Wait. Profits. How much did you charge for the rental? That¡¯s right, ten copper per day, plus a silver deposit." ¡°I wanted to build customer loyalty?" ¡°Customer loyalty." Brakar laughed again, that same humorless sound. ¡°We¡¯re going to go bankrupt from undercharging for illegal rentals of dangerous creatures. That¡¯s... heaven help me, that¡¯s impressive. I didn¡¯t think it was possible to fail in quite so many ways simultaneously." ¡°I¡¯ll fix it," Thadan said, with that particular tone of determination that, for him, preceded brilliant success or spectacular failure. ¡°All of it. The registration, the contracts, everything. Just tell me what we need." Brakar looked at his friend¡ªreally looked at him. Thadan¡¯s expression held the look of someone trying so hard to make something work that they couldn¡¯t see the cliff they were racing toward. ¡°We need," Brakar said slowly, ¡°proper legal documentation. Multiple copies. Every term defined, every scenario covered, every possible loophole closed." He held up a hand as Thadan opened his mouth. ¡°And before you say anything, no, we can¡¯t just copy existing contracts. This is too unique. Too dangerous." ¡°How long will it take?" ¡°To do it properly? Days, at least. Maybe weeks." Brakar rubbed his eyes. ¡°And that¡¯s assuming I can find the right reference materials at the library." ¡°Weeks?" Thadan¡¯s face fell. ¡°But what about¡ª" A shadow fell across the shop¡¯s front window, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps. Both men turned toward the door with synchronized movement. The footsteps passed without stopping. Brakar released a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. ¡°Until we have proper contracts," he said firmly, ¡°no more rentals. No demonstrations. No advertising. Nothing that could¡ª" The door creaked open. Brakar¡¯s heart skipped several beats as a figure stepped into their shop. Tall, pale, wearing clothes that were fashionable a century ago¡ªand moving with that particular fluid grace that suggested either noble breeding or supernatural origin. The last rays of sunset painted the windows blood-red as their visitor surveyed the shop¡¯s interior with aristocratic disdain. ¡°I was told," the vampire said in cultured tones, ¡°that one might acquire a perpetually illuminated lantern here." His gaze flickered between the two friends. ¡°Though I confess, this establishment appears somewhat... questionable." Brakar¡¯s mind raced through their options. They had no contracts, no registration, and absolutely no protocol for dealing with undead customers. ¡°We¡¯re... renovating," Thadan offered weakly. The vampire¡¯s lips curved. ¡°Indeed. Well, regardless of your establishment¡¯s aesthetic challenges, I find myself in need of your services." He straightened his already impeccable cravat. ¡°You see, I have a rather... embarrassing condition." Brakar exchanged glances with Thadan. What condition could embarrass a vampire? Blood allergies? Garlic cravings? ¡°I¡¯m afraid of the dark." The words hung in the air like autumn leaves frozen mid-fall. Brakar blinked. Thadan¡¯s mouth opened and closed without sound. Even the mimic-sofa seemed to pause in its constant, subtle movements. ¡°You¡¯re..." Brakar managed. ¡°But you¡¯re a vampire." ¡°Yes, thank you for that astute observation." The vampire sniffed. ¡°I am quite aware of the irony. Now, about these lanterns..." ¡°Of course, of course. Though first¡ªif you¡¯ll indulge me¡ªI make it a point to properly address all our distinguished clients." Thadan flashed his most disarming smile. ¡°I¡¯m Thadan, that worried-looking fellow is Brakar, and you are...?" ¡°Lord Constantin." A slight bow, precisely the depth appropriate for a merchant interaction. ¡°Though I suppose in the interest of full disclosure, the ¡®Lord¡¯ part is technically expired. Along with the rest of me." ¡°Ah, but quality never expires, my lord. And your bearing certainly speaks to centuries of refinement." ¡°Hmm. You have a silver tongue, young man." ¡°Would copper be more appropriate for the undead?" A ghost of a smile touched Constantin¡¯s lips. ¡°Perhaps. Now then..." ¡°I just need reliable illumination. Price is no object." Lord Constantin adjusted his cravat with perfectly manicured fingers. ¡°About that..." Brakar shot Thadan a warning look. ¡°We¡¯re actually not taking new rentals at the moment. Administrative issues." ¡°Nonsense. I heard about your establishment from a rather citrus-colored priest at the guild hall. Said your lanterns were exactly what I needed." ¡°The thing is, my lord, our contracts need revision before-" ¡°Do you have any idea," Constantin interrupted, ¡°how difficult it is to maintain proper aristocratic dignity while screaming about shadows at three in the morning?" Thadan cleared his throat. ¡°That does sound challenging." ¡°Last week, I had to excuse myself from a Merchant¡¯s Guild meeting because someone let their mage-light spell expire. In the middle of my financial report." The vampire¡¯s perfect posture somehow managed to become even more rigid. ¡°Do you know what that did to my credibility?" ¡°I imagine it was quite-" ¡°Three centuries of carefully cultivated mystique, ruined because I tried to climb the chandelier." Brakar squeezed the bridge of his nose. ¡°My lord, while we sympathize-" ¡°The chandelier wasn¡¯t even properly anchored. Absolutely disgraceful craftsmanship." Constantin brushed an invisible speck from his sleeve. ¡°I¡¯ve had to change my entire route home to avoid that building. The shame is unbearable." ¡°We really can¡¯t-" Brakar started. ¡°My neighbors have started a petition. Apparently, my ¡®nocturnal vocalizations¡¯ are disturbing their rest." The vampire¡¯s aristocratic features pulled into a small grimace. ¡°I¡¯m undead. I¡¯m supposed to be disturbing. But not like this. Not because I keep panic-purchasing every candle in the market district." Thadan stepped closer. ¡°How many candles are we talking about?" ¡°Seventeen hundred and forty-three. Last week alone." Constantin sighed. ¡°The chandlers are starting to recognize me. One of them tried to offer me a bulk discount." ¡°That¡¯s quite a lot of-" ¡°I had to pretend I was planning some sort of grand ritual. Made up something about communing with ancient spirits through wax patterns." The vampire straightened his already immaculate collar. ¡°Complete nonsense, of course, but it sounded better than admitting I sleep with every light in my apartment burning." Brakar shot Thadan another warning look. ¡°While this is certainly an unique situation-" ¡°Do you know how hard it is to find matching candelabras in this city? Impossible. The aesthetic chaos is giving me migraines. And I¡¯m technically dead¡ªI shouldn¡¯t even be able to get migraines." ¡°My lord," Brakar tried again, ¡°perhaps we could schedule an appointment for next week, after our paperwork is properly-" ¡°I will pay triple your standard rate." Constantin¡¯s pale fingers drummed against Kip¡¯s desk. ¡°Quadruple, if we can complete this transaction before sunset. Which, I feel compelled to point out, is rapidly approaching." Thadan perked up. ¡°Quintuple. Plus a substantial deposit." ¡°Thadan, no." ¡°Done." The vampire produced a heavy coin purse. ¡°I only carry copper and gold, though." ¡°Thadan..." ¡°And of course, I would be happy to provide references. Several quite influential members of the Merchant¡¯s Guild can attest to my... particular needs in this area." Constantin¡¯s perfect composure cracked even more. ¡°Especially after that incident..." The mimic-lantern on display chose that moment to shift its light pattern, creating a warm, steady glow that seemed to intentionally highlight the vampire¡¯s increasingly desperate expression. ¡°We could... maybe... make an exception?" Thadan suggested. ¡°Absolutely not." Brakar crossed his arms. ¡°Not without proper contracts." ¡°I¡¯ll sign whatever you like." Constantin¡¯s eyes tracked the setting sun through their front window. ¡°But perhaps we could handle the paperwork after the transaction? Before it gets... dark?" ¡°The implications alone-" ¡°I once spent three decades trapped in my own coffin due to a magical mishap," Constantin said quietly. ¡°Do you have any idea what that does to one¡¯s relationship with darkness?" The coin purse hit Kip¡¯s desk with a heavy thunk. ¡°Ten minutes," Brakar conceded. ¡°Give us ten minutes to at least draft a basic agreement." ¡°Five minutes." Constantin¡¯s perfect poise was eroding. ¡°The sun is setting." ¡°Seven minutes, and you¡¯ll need to sign additional paperwork next week." ¡°Fine, fine, whatever you need. Just please hurry." Thadan was already moving toward their lantern display. ¡°Any color preferences?" ¡°I really don¡¯t think-" Brakar started. ¡°Something elegant," Constantin said quickly. ¡°But not gaudy. I have a reputation to maintain." Chapter 15: Brainstorming Thadan burst through the front door of the shop. Brakar didn¡¯t look up from the papers spread across Kip¡¯s desk. ¡°What are you doing?" Thadan asked. ¡°Itemizing our expenses." ¡°That sounds responsible." ¡°It might as well be me." Brakar dipped his quill, continuing to write with methodical precision. ¡°Let me guess," Thadan said, leaning against the desk. ¡°We¡¯re short almost twenty gold." Brakar froze mid-stroke, then turned to glare at him. ¡°How the hell do you know that? I did the math three times." ¡°And I didn¡¯t even have to look. See? Saves you time." Brakar shoved the papers toward him. ¡°Fine. You handle it." ¡°Oh no, you¡¯re doing great." _________________ FINANCIAL LEDGER Date: Week 1 of Operations ASSETS: DEBTS: Total Assets: Deficit: _________________ ¡°Notice how I included your tab at Six Spoons?" ¡°I was going to pay that." ¡°When?" ¡°Not today." Thadan shifted his weight. ¡°But look on the bright side¡ªat least we have seventeen mimics!" ¡°Seventeen hungry mimics." ¡°Details." Thadan waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Now we just need a name for the shop, and we¡¯ll be proper businessmen." Brakar finally looked up. ¡°That¡¯s what you took from this?" ¡°Well, we can¡¯t very well succeed without a name, can we?" Thadan¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Got it¡ªthe Transforming Table! No, wait¡ªChairs With Charm!" ¡°Perhaps we should approach this systematically." Brakar pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, grateful for any distraction from their financial woes. ¡°We need to consider market appeal¡ª" ¡°The Hungry Hutch!" ¡°Given our current situation, could we focus on names that stand a real chance of attracting paying customers?" ¡°You¡¯re right." Thadan appeared serious. Then grinned. ¡°The Shifting Shuffle!" Brakar made a careful note. ¡°According to my research, establishments with traditional names like ¡®Premium Furnishings¡¯ show consistent¡ª" ¡°Boring! The Wandering Wood!" ¡°I¡¯ve prepared a list of twenty-seven potential names, ranked by memorability and market appeal¡ª" ¡°The Walking Wardrobes! Come on, that¡¯s brilliant!" ¡°The research indicates¡ª" ¡°The Nightstand Nook?" ¡°If you¡¯d let me finish¡ª" Brakar consulted his notes. ¡°Perhaps ¡®The Refined Rest¡¯?" ¡°Sounds like a funeral home. Oh! The Lounging Leather!" ¡°The Distinguished Den?" ¡°Too stuffy! The Moving Manor!" ¡°The Crafted Collection?" ¡°The Wandering Workshop!" ¡°Your fixation on movement-based names is¡ª" ¡°The Creeping Cupboards!" ¡°Could we focus on something more professional?" ¡°Professional is boring! Oh! The Surprise Suite!" ¡°We¡¯re attempting to run a business¡ª" ¡°The Tricky Tables!" ¡°Please stop." ¡°The Mischievous Mansion!" Brakar just glared. ¡°Just listen to a few names from my list, please.¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°I was thinking ¡®The Pearl Polish.¡¯" ¡°Gods no! That¡¯s what they call those... special shops in the Dwarven District. You know, the ones that sell ¡®marital aids.¡¯" ¡°Oh." Brakar¡¯s face reddened. ¡°What about ¡®The Velvet Touch¡¯?" ¡°That¡¯s... that¡¯s literally a brothel. Three streets over. The one that caters exclusively to Minotaurs." ¡°Right." Brakar gathered his notes. ¡°We¡¯ll reconvene in an hour. Please use that time to consider names that won¡¯t get us arrested." The door creaked, scales scraped against wood, and Kip¡¯s tall form filled the doorway. ¡°What are you two plotting?" ¡°Just brainstorming names for the shop," Brakar said. ¡°Oh? Any promising candidates?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Well, Brak wanted to call it ¡®The Velvet Touch.¡¯" ¡°Isn¡¯t that the brothel on Tanner¡¯s Row?" Brakar¡¯s face reddened. ¡°The very same," Thadan said. ¡°Ah yes, quite the establishment. Though if you¡¯re visiting, ask for Lucy. Marta¡¯s rates are highway robbery." Kip¡¯s tail swished. ¡°Not that I would know personally, of course." Brakar cleared his throat. ¡°What brings you by?" ¡°Need a few more measurements for the counter." Kip pulled out his notebook. ¡°How¡¯s business?" ¡°We¡¯ve rented two lanterns already!" ¡°Have you now?" Kip¡¯s scaled brow rose. ¡°Well then, it¡¯s official. You definitely need a proper name." He tapped his claws against his chin. ¡°Let¡¯s see... Mimicry... no. Mimic Pet Shop... definitely not. Mimic Furniture Store... too obvious. Mimic Emporium... too grandiose." ¡°What about Mimic & Co.?" Brakar and Thadan exchanged a look. ¡°That¡¯s..." Brakar started. ¡°Perfect," Thadan finished. ¡°Simple. Professional. Just vague enough to be intriguing." Kip nodded. ¡°And it leaves room for expansion." ¡°Plus it sounds legitimate," Thadan said. ¡°Which we definitely are." Brakar¡¯s voice carried just a hint of desperation. **** Brakar stared at the towering doors of the Ironweave Commerce Guild. The heavy bronze surface stood cold and imposing, its presence alone pressing against him. His eyes burned¡ªnot from the sun, but from his own anxiety. ¡°Ready?" Thadan asked, bouncing on his heels. ¡°No." ¡°Perfect! Let¡¯s go." Brakar hadn¡¯t finished voicing his objection when Thadan pushed through the doors. The entrance hall stretched before them, its marble floors so pristine they could see their reflections. Columns of pale stone rose to a vaulted ceiling where enchanted crystals cast a warm, even light. The chamber held the distinct aroma of bureaucracy¨Cink-stained parchment and ambition. A row of identical desks lined the far wall, each staffed by a clerk who looked more miserable than the last. At the centermost desk sat a stout woman with steel-gray hair pulled back so tightly it seemed to be holding her permanent scowl in place. ¡°Look," Thadan whispered, pointing to her nameplate. ¡°Madame Griselda Thornheart. Sounds friendly." ¡°Maybe we should come back tomorrow." ¡°Nonsense! This is just like dungeon diving. Except instead of monsters, we face paperwork." ¡°I preferred the monsters." They approached Madame Thornheart¡¯s desk. She peered at them over half-moon spectacles that hung from a brass chain around her neck, her expression suggesting they had personally offended her by existing. ¡°Yes?" The word carried enough frost to freeze a dragon¡¯s breath. Brakar opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His palms were sweating. ¡°Business registration," Thadan said, cheerful as always. ¡°New establishment." Madame Thornheart¡¯s lips pursed as if she¡¯d bitten into something sour. She reached beneath her desk with agonizing slowness and produced a stack of forms. ¡°Fill these out." She slapped them down with enough force to make Brakar jump. ¡°All fields. Both copies. Black ink only. No corrections." Brakar picked up the forms with trembling hands. The text was tiny, the boxes impossibly small. Who designed these things? Pixies? They retreated to a nearby bench. Thadan produced a pen from somewhere and began filling out his portion with surprising focus. ¡°Name of establishment?" he muttered. ¡°Mimic & Co." ¡°Purpose of business?" ¡°Furniture sales and rentals." ¡°Expected monthly revenue?" They looked at each other. ¡°Just put ¡®pending market analysis,¡¯" Brakar suggested. ¡°Nice." Thadan scribbled it down. ¡°Previous business experience?" ¡°Does adventuring count?" ¡°I¡¯m putting ¡®extensive entrepreneurial background in asset acquisition and risk management.¡¯" ¡°That¡¯s... one way to describe failing at dungeon diving." They worked through the forms, Thadan occasionally making creative interpretations of their qualifications while Brakar tried to keep their answers technically truthful without mentioning anything about living furniture. ¡°Previous employment references?" ¡°The Patchwork Post," Brakar said. ¡°Ms. Thornberry would vouch for us, right?" ¡°Probably. Though she might mention the sewer incident." ¡°Good point. Let¡¯s put ¡®references available upon request.¡¯" At long last, after what felt like hours, they returned to Madame Thornheart¡¯s desk. She examined their forms with the intensity of a jeweler inspecting suspicious gems. ¡°Incomplete," she announced. ¡°What?" Thadan leaned forward. ¡°We filled out everything!" ¡°Section 7B." She jabbed a finger at the page. ¡°Capital assets declaration." ¡°We listed our inventory!" ¡°No itemized values." Her tone suggested this was a personal insult. ¡°Can¡¯t process without proper valuation." Brakar¡¯s stomach churned. How exactly did one appraise a mimic? ¡°Our inventory is... unique," he managed. ¡°Everything has value." She pulled out a fresh form. ¡°Fill this out. In triplicate." ¡°Listen," Thadan¡¯s cheerful facade showed a small break. ¡°We¡¯ve been here for hours. The forms are filled out. Just stamp them and¡ª" ¡°Proper documentation required." She somehow looked even more severe. ¡°Next window." ¡°There is no next window!" ¡°Then I suggest you wait until one opens." Brakar watched in horror as Thadan¡¯s face shifted from frustration to that particular expression he got right before doing something extremely ill-advised. ¡°Oh no," he whispered. ¡°Oh yes," Thadan replied, then turned back to Madame Thornheart. ¡°You know what? You¡¯re right. We should wait. In fact, let¡¯s discuss exactly how long we¡¯ve been waiting. And while we¡¯re at it, why don¡¯t we talk about Article 7 of the Commerce Guild¡¯s Charter regarding maximum processing times for new business applications?" Her eyebrows rose slightly. ¡°Or perhaps," Thadan continued, his voice carrying just enough to draw attention from nearby desks, ¡°we could review the quarterly efficiency reports? I¡¯m sure the Guild Masters would be fascinated to learn why simple registrations take half a day." Madame Thornheart¡¯s lips thinned to nearly nothing. ¡°I have an excellent memory for numbers," Thadan added. ¡°Like processing times. And approval rates. And how they might compare to other districts." The silence stretched. Nearby clerks pretended to be very busy with their own work while obviously listening. She let him stew just long enough to make her point. Then Madame Thornheart picked up her stamp. ¡°Initial here." THUMP. ¡°And here." THUMP. ¡°Sign here." THUMP. Each stamp landed with enough force to make the desk shake. Brakar winced with every impact. ¡°Payment?" Thadan counted out coins while Brakar tried very hard to become invisible. ¡°Provisional approval granted." She practically threw the stamped forms at them. ¡°Final inspection required within thirty days. Next!" They gathered their documents and retreated toward the exit. Halfway there, Thadan grabbed Brakar¡¯s hand and they exchanged an enthusiastic handshake, grinning like idiots. ¡°We did it!" Thadan whispered. ¡°We¡¯re legitimate!" ¡°Provisional legitimacy," Brakar corrected, but he was smiling too. ¡°Pardon me, gentlemen." They turned to find a lanky ratkin blocking their path. His silvery-gray fur was meticulously groomed and slicked back with expensive oil. His whiskers were unusually long and carefully waxed into perfect curves. ¡°Vermil Threadwhisker," he introduced himself with a slight bow. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear¡ªfurniture sales and rentals, was it?" ¡°That¡¯s right," Thadan said cautiously. ¡°How fascinating." Threadwhisker produced a small leather notebook that was clearly expensive but well-worn from constant use. ¡°And this would be at... 8 Merchant¡¯s End?" ¡°Who¡¯s asking?" ¡°Oh, merely a humble servant of commerce." His voice was reedy and precise, with a habit of drawing out his S¡¯s enough to be noticeable without quite lisping. ¡°Always eager to support new enterprises." ¡°Right." Thadan¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Who the fuck are you?" "His sleek tail coiled tightly. "I believe I introduced myself¡ª" ¡°You did. Now try again with the truth." The ratkin¡¯s perfectly groomed appearance suddenly seemed more mask than manifestation. His eyes darted between them, calculating. ¡°Perhaps we could discuss this over¡ª" ¡°No." Thadan stepped forward. ¡°Who. Are. You?" Threadwhisker took a careful step back, his notebook disappearing into his waistcoat with practiced speed. ¡°Another time, then." He gave another slight bow and retreated toward the exit with haste. Brakar watched him go, anxiety churning in his stomach. ¡°That was weird, right?" he asked. ¡°Very." Thadan¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Too weird." They stood in silence for a moment, watching the space where the ratkin had disappeared. ¡°Think he knows about the mimics?" ¡°No way to tell." Thadan¡¯s jaw set in a familiar way. ¡°But we¡¯re going to find out." ¡°How?" ¡°First?" Thadan held up their stamped registration forms. ¡°We celebrate becoming legitimate business owners." ¡°And then?" ¡°Then we figure out who¡¯s asking questions about our shop." His grin had an edge to it. ¡°And why." Chapter 16: The Return The mimic-sofa grumbled as Brakar shifted his weight, causing the leather to ripple in protest. Two days of worrying had left him exhausted, but sleep refused to come. The shop¡¯s front room lay quiet, save for the occasional creak of settling wood and the soft scratching of his quill against parchment as he updated their ledger. A shadow passed across the window. Brakar¡¯s hand jerked, leaving an ugly ink blot on the page. The door hinges groaned. ¡°Impressive establishment." Othh¡¯s citrus-colored form filled the doorway, his priestly robes immaculate despite the early hour. The lantern dangled from his hand, its glow steady and strong. ¡°Though I admit, I expected more... furniture." ¡°We¡¯re still getting set up." Brakar tried to keep his voice steady. Had the lantern-mimic behaved itself? Had anyone noticed its true nature? ¡°Very set up." Othh¡¯s amber eyes scanned the sparse room. ¡°I particularly appreciate the minimalist aesthetic." ¡°Thank you for returning the lantern on time." Brakar reached for it, but Othh held it back. ¡°Well," he said, ¡°I have a proposition." Oh no. ¡°The survey area has expanded. Significantly." Othh set the lantern on Kip¡¯s desk with surprising gentleness. ¡°The original cave network connects to several unmapped chambers. My superiors want a full assessment." ¡°That sounds... extensive." ¡°Indeed. Which is why I need more lanterns. Twenty, to be precise." Brakar¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Twenty?" ¡°The additional chambers require additional surveyors. Can¡¯t have them stumbling around in the dark with those Inverse Bats about." Othh shuddered. ¡°Nasty things. Did you know they can turn their ribcages inside out? Fascinating from a theological perspective, but rather inconvenient when you¡¯re trying to measure tunnel dimensions." The front door banged open. Thadan stormed in, his hair wild and his clothes covered in freshly scattered hay. ¡°Morning!" He beamed at Othh. ¡°How¡¯s our lantern treating you?" ¡°Excellently. In fact¡ª" ¡°He wants twenty," Brakar interrupted. ¡°Perfect!" Thadan¡¯s lips curled into a wider smile. ¡°When do you need them?" ¡°As soon as possible. The tax assessment deadline approaches, and if we don¡¯t properly document the monster population, the whole cave system could be reclassified as ¡®abandoned storage¡¯ rather than ¡®active dungeon.¡¯ The paperwork alone would be nightmarish." ¡°We only have fifteen," Brakar said, before Thadan could promise things they couldn¡¯t deliver. ¡°Ah." Othh¡¯s face fell. ¡°That is unfortunate." ¡°Give us a week," Thadan said. ¡°We¡¯ll have the other five ready." Brakar¡¯s head snapped around so fast his neck cracked. ¡°We will?" ¡°Absolutely." Thadan¡¯s confidence could have powered a small modern city. ¡°Seven days, twenty lanterns, guaranteed." ¡°Thadan." Brakar¡¯s voice carried a warning edge. ¡°A word?" ¡°Of course!" Thadan turned to Othh. ¡°Excuse us for just a moment. Business discussion." Brakar dragged Thadan into the back room. ¡°Have you lost your mind?" Brakar hissed. ¡°What?" Thadan¡¯s innocence wouldn¡¯t have fooled a blind goblin. ¡°We are not going dungeon diving!" ¡°Who said anything about¡ª" ¡°No." Brakar jabbed a finger at Thadan¡¯s chest. ¡°No more adventures. No more quests. No more risking our lives for a few copper pieces!" ¡°Brak¡ª" ¡°Do you remember the cistern? Because I remember the cistern! I still have nightmares about those centipedes!" ¡°If you¡¯d just¡ª" ¡°And let¡¯s not forget¡­" ¡°Look." Thadan grabbed Brakar¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m not suggesting we go inside a dungeon." ¡°You¡¯re... not?" ¡°Of course not! We¡¯re legitimate businessmen now." Brakar¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Then how exactly do you plan to acquire five more mimics in a week?" ¡°I have an idea." ¡°What kind of idea?" ¡°A good one!" ¡°Thadan." ¡°Trust me?" Brakar studied his friend¡¯s face. The eager grin, the slightly manic glint in his eyes, the absolute certainty that everything would work out somehow. ¡°Fine." Brakar sighed. ¡°But if this involves sewers again¡ª" ¡°No sewers!" Thadan raised his right hand. ¡°I solemnly swear that my plan involves zero sewers, minimal danger, and absolutely no gelatinous cubes." ¡°That¡¯s not the least bit reassuring." They returned to the front room, where Othh was examining the mimic-sofa with professional interest. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Fascinating craftsmanship," he said. ¡°The leather almost seems... alive." ¡°Seven days!" Thadan shouted. ¡°Twenty lanterns! Do we have a deal?" Othh straightened, his attention successfully diverted. ¡°The rental fee remains the same?" ¡°Of course!" ¡°And they¡¯re all as reliable as this one?" He gestured to the lantern on the desk. ¡°Guaranteed," Thadan said before Brakar could open his mouth. ¡°Excellent." Othh produced a small notebook and began writing. ¡°I¡¯ll return in one week with the full payment." ¡°We look forward to it," Brakar managed. Othh headed for the door. He paused in the threshold, turning back with an oddly serious expression. ¡°One last thing," he said. ¡°The sofa..." Brakar¡¯s heart stopped. ¡°Yes?" Thadan¡¯s voice remained perfectly steady. ¡°How much would you charge for one like it? My wife¡¯s been after me to replace our sitting room furniture." ¡°Currently unavailable!" Brakar blurted. ¡°Limited stock! Very rare! Imported! From... far away!" ¡°Ah, well." Othh nodded sagely. ¡°Perhaps another time." The door closed behind him. Brakar collapsed onto the sofa, which helpfully adjusted its cushions to better support his trembling form. ¡°That was close," he muttered. ¡°Wasn¡¯t it?" Thadan was already pulling on his coat. ¡°Right! No time to waste. I¡¯ve got some errands to run." ¡°What errands?" ¡°Important ones!" Thadan headed for the door. ¡°Very important! Extremely legitimate business errands that definitely don¡¯t involve anything dangerous or illegal!" ¡°Thadan¡ª" ¡°Back soon!" The door slammed. ¡°He¡¯s going to get us all killed," Brakar whispered to himself. **** Five more mimics. The thought pounded through Thadan¡¯s head in time with his feet against the cobblestones. Five more mimics in seven days. He burst out of the shop at full sprint, nearly bowling over a surprised merchant whose cart was piled high with fresh vegetables. The man shouted something about watching where he was going, but Thadan had reached halfway down the street, his mind racing faster than his legs. Traditional dungeon diving was out of the question¡ªBrakar had already refused, and honestly, Thadan wasn¡¯t eager to face any more centipedes. The underground market Kip mentioned was tempting, but the risks were too high. One wrong move there and they¡¯d lose everything they¡¯d built. No, he needed someone who understood both the theoretical and practical aspects of magical creatures. Someone with academic knowledge and field experience. Someone who might know where to find mimics. Someone like Rytha Mar. The morning crowd parted before him as he wove through the streets, occasionally leaping onto the iron bridges that gave the city its name. The metalwork hummed beneath his boots, enchantments keeping the spans stable despite their impossible architecture. His first stop was The Six Spoons. The ancient tavern¡¯s six different kitchens were already busy preparing for lunch, filling the air with a chaotic blend of aromas. Thadan scanned the dining room, ignoring the suspicious glares from the staff who clearly remembered his outstanding tab. No Rytha. He charged back out, taking the stairs three at a time up to the next level of bridges. The Patchwork Post would be his next stop¡ªMs. Thornberry may know where she is. The old guild hall looked just as he remembered: weathered but dignified, like a retired warrior who refused to completely give up the fight. ¡°Back so soon?" Ms. Thornberry didn¡¯t look up from her paperwork. ¡°I thought you were ¡®retired.¡¯" ¡°Looking for someone." Thadan leaned on her desk, trying to catch his breath. ¡°Rytha Mar. Merfolk shadowpriest. Have you seen her?" ¡°Can¡¯t discuss other adventurers¡¯ whereabouts." She stamped a form with perhaps more force than necessary. ¡°Guild policy." ¡°Come on, Thornberry. For old times¡¯ sake?" ¡°Old times?" Only then did she look up, eyes sharp. ¡°Like that sewer incident?" ¡°Can people stop bringing up these incidents?" ¡°Three times." She turned back to her work. ¡°And no, I haven¡¯t seen her today." Thadan groaned and pushed away from the desk. As he turned to leave, Ms. Thornberry added, ¡°Though if I were looking for a shadowpriest who¡¯s obsessed with proper technique, I might try going to the university district. They sometimes guest lecture." He grinned. ¡°Thanks, Thornberry!" ¡°Don¡¯t mention it." Her voice followed him out. ¡°Seriously. Don¡¯t. I have a reputation to maintain." The university district sprawled across one of Ironweave¡¯s higher levels, its elegant spires and domes connected by delicate bridges that looked too fragile to hold weight but never wavered. Thadan checked every lecture hall he could access, earning increasingly suspicious looks from the staff. No Rytha. Back on street level, he ducked into random alleyways, checking the shadowy corners where a shadowpriest might lurk. His search took him through progressively less reputable neighborhoods until he found himself staring at an all-too-familiar building. The Velvet Touch looked deceptively mundane from the outside¡ªa sturdy stone building with reinforced support beams and extra-wide hallways. Only rose-tinted windows and a discrete brass plaque beside the door hinted at the reality of the establishment. That, and the occasional sounds of hooves on hardwood floors. Thadan hesitated. Would Rytha really be here? It seemed unlikely, but he¡¯d already checked everywhere else he could think of. The entrance was guarded by two bored-looking bouncers who, from the looks of it, had been chosen for their ability to handle rowdy patrons twice their size. He turned away. This was ridiculous. There was no way a disciplined shadowpriest would¡ª Unless... The academic types were often the ones with the most interesting private lives. And she had mentioned studying his father¡¯s techniques. Maybe she was here researching some obscure shadow manipulation theory? This is stupid, he told himself even as he turned back toward the entrance. The bouncers¡¯ expressions didn¡¯t change as he approached, but their posture stiffened like crystal guardians sensing an intruder. Ready for trouble. ¡°Morning," he said cheerfully. ¡°Business hours start at noon," the larger bouncer replied. ¡°Just trying to find someone." ¡°Aren¡¯t we all?" The smaller bouncer smirked. ¡°Come back later." ¡°I need to find Rytha Mar. Merfolk shadowpriest? About this tall?" He held up his hand. ¡°Skin changes color when she¡¯s angry?" The bouncers exchanged a look. ¡°Never heard of her," the larger one said. ¡°You sure? She might have used a different name. Or been asking about shadow manipulation techniques?" ¡°Listen, friend." The smaller bouncer¡¯s smirk vanished. ¡°This establishment caters to a very specific clientele with very specific interests. For someone who can manipulate shadows, try the university." ¡°Already did." ¡°Then I suggest you keep looking elsewhere." Thadan recognized the tone. He¡¯d heard it often enough from various authority figures right before things got unpleasant. ¡°Right." He stepped back. ¡°Thanks anyway." He retreated with as much dignity as possible, ignoring the bouncers¡¯ quiet chuckles. The morning sun felt suddenly too bright, and his throat was parched from all the running around. Water, he decided. Then back to searching. The nearest cafe was a converted workshop in the engineering district. Bean Works, according to the sign, which featured an unnecessarily complex diagram of what appeared to be a coffee-brewing process. Copper pipes and pressure gauges lined the walls, and the coffee machines were marvels of custom engineering. Thadan pushed through the door, the bell¡¯s cheerful ring almost lost under the hiss of steam and the grinding of gears. The counter was height-adjustable to accommodate different species, and the tables were salvaged gears from decommissioned machinery. And there, sitting alone at a corner table with a stack of books and what appeared to be architectural drawings, he found the merfolk woman. Thadan didn¡¯t hesitate. He dropped into the chair across from her, grinning as her opalescent skin shifted from a focused blue to a startled teal. ¡°We need to talk about mimics." Chapter 17: Toast to Plenty The gnomish pressure gauges that crowded Bean Works¡¯ walls told different stories depending on where you looked: 37 PSI meant the morning rush had ended, the slow descent of needle 12-B tracked the day¡¯s coffee reserves, and the quiet ¡®tick-tick-tick¡¯ of the master regulator counted seconds until the next batch of Dwarven Dark Roast would finish its precisely-timed extraction. Thadan found himself reading the dials automatically, the way Meyla had taught him during those endless summer afternoons in her father¡¯s workshop. ¡°Engineering is just poetry with more explosions," she¡¯d say, right before demonstrating how explosive poetry could be. Five years later, he still couldn¡¯t look at a pressure gauge without smelling singed copper and hearing her laugh. The needle on gauge 8-C spiked as he dropped into the chair across from Rytha, whose skin skipped through shades of blue faster than the shop¡¯s fastest brew cycle¡ªthe kind of color shift that meant attempted murder. ¡°You¡¯re interrupting." Rytha didn¡¯t look up from her notebook. ¡°I have a business proposition." ¡°Done with the lantern scheme already?" Her pen moved in precise strokes across the page. ¡°Come on, you don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m offering. And we¡¯re practically colleagues¡ªthe Patchwork Post?" ¡°Seeing you waste your potential doesn¡¯t make us colleagues." She finally looked up, her skin darkening to the same judgmental teal he remembered from last time. ¡°You¡¯re still copper-ranked." ¡°I¡¯m retired." ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be Thadan Brightsteel Fourth of his name? I¡¯m sure you, more than anyone, know the reputation he has at the guild." ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you this last time, but I go by Ginedras now¡ªThadan Ginedras. But just call me Thadan." ¡°Interesting choice,¡± Rytha said. ¡°Abandoning a name that could open any door in Ironweave." ¡°Those aren¡¯t my doors." The words came out harder than he intended. ¡°And I quit adventuring, so yeah." ¡°The great Thadan Brightsteel¡¯s son, abandoning the path to Orichalcum rank to do... whatever it is you¡¯re doing now." ¡°I need mimics." That got her attention. ¡°Well." She set down her pen with deliberate care. ¡°That¡¯s certainly not your father¡¯s line of work." The gnome barista appeared with a fresh cup. ¡°Live ones. Preferably not too damaged. I¡¯ll pay three copper each." ¡°Three copper." She leaned forward. ¡°For creatures that regularly eat adventurers whole." ¡°Four copper?" ¡°Try fifteen silver. Per mimic. More if they¡¯re from the deep dungeons." ¡°Fifteen sil- that¡¯s insane! I could buy a decent sword for that!" ¡°A decent sword won¡¯t try to digest me during transport." ¡°Five copper and I¡¯ll throw in one of my father¡¯s tactical manuscripts." ¡°Which one?" ¡°The one about shadow positioning in confined spaces." ¡°I have three copies already." ¡°With his original annotations?" ¡°...go on." ¡°Seven copper per mimic, plus the manuscript, and I¡¯ll add his notes on penumbral resonance patterns." ¡°Thirty silver for anything past the outer dungeons. Transport costs alone¡ª" ¡°2 silver for standard, 12 silver for deep delvers, and I¡¯ll include his entire collection of shadow theory marginalia." Rytha¡¯s skin cycled through several shades before settling on a thoughtful teal. ¡°Why do you need them alive?" ¡°Would you believe it¡¯s for furniture?" ¡°No." ¡°Smart woman." ¡°The manuscript first. I¡¯ll need to verify it¡¯s genuine." ¡°Done. But I need at least five by next week." ¡°That is doable. The Copper Mines have had increased mimic activity lately. Something there is affecting their breeding patterns." Thadan¡¯s stomach clenched at the mention of the Copper Mines. ¡°I don¡¯t need to know the details." Even after months away, he could still smell the metallic tang that permeated every tunnel, still feel the weight of millions of tons of rock pressing down from above. The Mines were Ironweave¡¯s eternal money pit¡ªa sprawling nightmare of collapsing shafts and monster-infested chambers that claimed more adventurer lives than any other dungeon in the region. Half the job board at any given time was desperate calls for help from mining crews who¡¯d broken through into yet another monster nest or ancient tomb. The Mines had almost killed their party three times before they swore off taking contracts there. But if that¡¯s where the mimics were breeding... ¡°Yes, you do. Because if I¡¯m hauling live mimics across three districts, you need to understand exactly what you¡¯re paying for." She pulled out a fresh page. ¡°Standard rates apply within city bounds. Anything requiring more than two days¡¯ travel incurs additional fees. Particularly large specimens will need special handling¡ª" ¡°How about we start with the five I need immediately, then work out a long-term arrangement?" Her pen paused. ¡°Your father would be pleased." ¡°What?" ¡°About time you applied yourself to something. Even if it¡¯s..." She gestured vaguely. ¡°Whatever this is." ¡°Is that a yes?" ¡°It¡¯s a ¡®we need proper contracts with defined terms and conditions. And I want copies of all his notes on shadow theory, not just the marginalia." ¡°Deal. My partner¡¯s obsessed with contracts. He¡¯ll be thrilled to write up all the boring details." ¡°I haven¡¯t finished listing terms." ¡°I know. But you¡¯re going to help anyway." ¡°Because of your natural charm?" ¡°They don¡¯t call me prince charming for nothing." Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°They don¡¯t." He stood. ¡°8 Merchant¡¯s End, three days. I¡¯ll bring the manuscripts." ¡°Five days. Proper mimic handling takes time." ¡°Four days, and I¡¯ll add his treatise on umbral mathematics." ¡°...acceptable." **** Brakar stared at their new sign: ¡°Mimic & Co." All that was left was to put it outside so people would know that was the name of their establishment. The door crashed open with enough force to startle the mimic-sofa. Brakar looked up from his work just in time to see Thadan burst in, practically vibrating with excitement. ¡°I found us a mimic supplier!" The words tumbled out in a rush. ¡°And she¡¯s legitimate!" ¡°She?" ¡°Rytha Mar. Shadowpriest. Four days, five mimics, guaranteed delivery." ¡°And what exactly did you promise her in return?" ¡°Nothing major. Just some old family documents. Theoretical stuff. Shadow manipulation techniques." ¡°Your father¡¯s notes?" Brakar sensed his eyebrows climb. ¡°Is that really a good idea?" ¡°What good are they doing collecting dust?" Thadan released him, only to grab his arm instead. ¡°Come on, we¡¯re celebrating!" ¡°Now? But the accounts¡ª" ¡°Can wait! This is a momentous occasion!" Thadan was already dragging him toward the door. ¡°Our first official day as legitimate businessmen!" ¡°At least let me get my¡ª" ¡°No time! The Six Spoons awaits!" ¡°Wait!" Brakar dug in his heels. ¡°We should invite Kip. He¡¯s been super helpful, and it would be rude not to¡ª" ¡°Brilliant!" Thadan changed direction so abruptly that Brakar nearly stumbled. **** Kip looked up from his workbench. ¡°May inquire about the nature of this unexpected visit?" ¡°We¡¯re celebrating!" Thadan proclaimed. ¡°The business is official!" ¡°Most excellent news. I trust the registration process went smoothly?" ¡°Smooth as silk! Well, there was this weird ratkin asking questions, but that¡¯s not important right now." Thadan gestured with a grand sweep. ¡°Join us for dinner? The Six Spoons, our treat! Please?" Brakar managed to cut in. ¡°You¡¯ve been so helpful. It would mean a lot." ¡°In that case," Kip carefully removed his work apron, ¡°I would be delighted to participate in your celebration." The walk to The Six Spoons was mercifully short, though Thadan¡¯s enthusiasm meant they moved at what felt like double speed. The usual dinner crowd hadn¡¯t arrived yet, leaving the main room relatively quiet save for the sounds of apprentice cooks learning their craft. A waiter approached their table, recognizing Brakar and Thadan. ¡°Ah, the usual for you, gentlemen? Unseasoned meat with¡ª" ¡°Not today! We¡¯re celebrating! Bring us the crocodile special, extra seasoning!" Brakar¡¯s face flushed crimson. Crocodile? In front of Kip? He tried to catch Thadan¡¯s eye, to somehow communicate the massive cultural faux pas they were about to commit. Thadan noticed his expression and froze. ¡°Oh. Oh shit. I didn¡¯t mean¡ª Kip, I¡¯m so sorry, I wasn¡¯t thinking¡ª" ¡°If I may," Kip interrupted smoothly, ¡°I would very much enjoy the crocodile as well. The chef here has quite the talent for bringing out the natural flavors." ¡°You... would?" Thadan blinked. ¡°Indeed. The preparation method is quite fascinating ¨C a blend of techniques from three different cultural traditions." ¡°Oh." Thadan¡¯s relief was palpable. ¡°Oh good. For a second there I thought¡ª" ¡°That I might take offense?" Kip¡¯s expression held a hint of amusement. ¡°I assure you, such concerns are unnecessary. We lizardfolk have a rather practical view of cuisine." Brakar¡¯s shoulders visibly relaxed. ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll have the same." ¡°Excellent!" Thadan turned back to the waiter. ¡°Three crocodile specials, extra seasoning, and a round of beer!" He paused. ¡°Actually, make it two beers for Brakar." ¡°What? Why?" ¡°Because I¡¯ve known you for years and I¡¯ve never seen you properly drunk." ¡°That¡¯s because I barely drink. On purpose." ¡°Nailed it! You¡¯re always so... controlled. Come on, live a little! We¡¯re celebrating!" Brakar looked to Kip for support. ¡°Celebration does traditionally call for some loosening of usual constraints." ¡°See? Even Kip agrees! Come on, just this once?" Brakar sighed. ¡°Fine. But just this once." The food arrived in ten minutes ¨C one of the benefits of eating early ¨C and the conversation flowed as easily as the beer. Thadan regaled them with the story of tracking down Rytha, complete with dramatic reenactments of his sprint through the city. ¡°¡ªand then," Thadan was saying, gesturing with a piece of meat, ¡°she says she wants thirty silver per mimic! Can you believe it?" ¡°Quite reasonable," Kip observed, ¡°considering the risks involved in procurement." ¡°But this jackass here probably tried to haggle her down to copper pieces!" Thadan¡¯s fork clattered against his plate. ¡°Did... did you just call me a jackass?" Thadan asked incredulously. ¡°Damn straight I did!" Brakar jabbed a finger in Thadan¡¯s general direction, missing by several inches. ¡°Always tryin¡¯ to cheap out on everything! Y¡¯know how many times I had to patch you up ¡®cause you bought cheap equipment?" ¡°Brak, are you drunk?" ¡°Nah, but I¡¯m sure these mimics ain¡¯t cheap, ya feel me? Living merchandise costs quality coin, ya dig?" Brakar¡¯s accent had somehow shifted into something approximating a street tough from the lower districts. ¡°Can¡¯t be running no respectable business if we ain¡¯t willing to invest in the product, know what I¡¯m sayin¡¯?" Thadan and Kip exchanged glances. Then, simultaneously, they burst out laughing. ¡°Holy shit," Thadan wheezed between guffaws. ¡°Who are you?" ¡°I¡¯m the guy who¡¯s gonna make sure we run this joint proper," Brakar declared, somehow managing to sound both sophisticated and thuggish at the same time. ¡°None of that amateur hour bullshit you tried to pull with them lanterns!" Kip¡¯s carefully maintained composure cracked completely as he doubled over, his scales flushing a deeper copper from suppressed laughter. ¡°Amateur hour?" Thadan wiped tears from his eyes. ¡°I got us some contracts!" ¡°Yeah, yeah, real impressive." Brakar waved dismissively, nearly knocking over his empty mug. ¡°But we gotta think bigger, ya know what I mean? Can¡¯t be nickel-and-diming every little thing if we wanna make it in this town!" ¡°perhaps we should order water?" Kip managed between chuckles. ¡°Water¡¯s for chumps!" Brakar declared. Then he blinked. ¡°No, wait, that ain¡¯t right. Water¡¯s important. Gotta keep myself hydrated and shit." ¡°And shit," Thadan repeated, dissolving into fresh laughter. They lingered at their table, ordering another round and finishing off the last of their meals with the slow satisfaction of men who had nowhere urgent to be. Through the pleasant haze of alcohol, Brakar found his mind drifting back to that night in the leaking tent, when everything had seemed to be ending. He''d been so certain then that they were losing something irreplaceable. But sitting here now, watching Thadan laugh until tears streamed down his face, seeing Kip''s scales flush copper with genuine mirth, he realized something profound through his ale-addled thoughts: maybe they hadn''t lost what mattered most after all. Sure, Mira and Pockets had moved on to their own adventures, but that warmth of friendship, that ability to transform even the most challenging situations into something manageable simply by being together¡ªit wasn''t gone. It had just... changed shape. Like their mimics. "Y''know somthin''?" he announced, his sophisticated-thug accent growing even more pronounced as words started blending together. "This right here? S''the good stuff. The real treasure. Like them maps Mira used ta draw on napkins, or them crazy machines Pockits was always talkin'' bout building." "Brak," Thadan said gently, "you''re not making any sense." "Nah, but ''m making a point!" He jabbed his finger at the table for emphasis, missing slightly. "We thought we needed all that ''venture stuff to be... to be us. But maybe we jus'' needed this. Jus''... being here. Together. Makin'' stupid decisions ''bout furniture that eats people." Kip took a careful sip of his drink to hide his smile, but Brakar was already pushing onward, his words flowing with drunken sincerity. "Even if it all goes wrong t''morrow ¨C even if our shop fails an'' all our mimics decide to eat us¡ªat least we tried somethin'' new. Together. An'' that''s... tha''s worth celebrating, ain''t it?" They settled their bill. ¡°Perhaps I should ensure our colleague reaches home safely?" Kip said, steadying Brakar as he attempted to navigate the tavern¡¯s threshold. ¡°I¡¯ll take him. The Stack isn¡¯t far. I live there too." ¡°Very well." Kip adjusted his craftsman¡¯s clothes. ¡°This has been... educational." ¡°Damn straight. Professional development," Brakar mumbled as he gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. They made their way to the Stack under a sky streaked with deep orange and fading blue. The air had cooled. With a sigh, Thadan crouched down and hefted Brakar onto his back, adjusting the weight as he started up the narrow stairs. Reaching the small room, Thadan lowered him onto the bed with as much care as his patience allowed, then stepped back, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Sleep well, you professional businessman," Thadan whispered, closing the door behind him. Chapter 18: Light Vs. Shadow The carriage wheels clattered against the cobblestones, each jolt sending vibrations through the specially reinforced containment boxes. Brakar watched from the doorway of Mimic & Co. as Rytha¡¯s party maneuvered their cargo through the morning crowd. Four standard-sized containers and one that required two people to lift. ¡°Where do you want them?!¡± Rytha yelled as she entered the establishment. Thadan emerged from the back room, smoothing his shirt. ¡°Set them down anywhere for now. We can sort out proper placement once we¡¯ve had a chance to inspect the merchandise.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± She squinted at the wooden sign above the door, reading the letters slowly. Mimic & Co. She let out a short, incredulous laugh. ¡°Wait. That sign¡¯s not a joke? You¡¯re actually using these things as furniture? Wait, are you going to sell these to people?!¡± She turned to the party beside her, throwing up a hand. ¡°This guy¡¯s crazy. You hearin¡¯ this? He wants to sell mimics disguised as furniture.¡± Her usual sophisticated way of talking was gone, completely thrown off by the absurdity. Thadan scoffed, crossing his arms. ¡°Crazy? Rytha, this is brilliant. You ever think about security? A mimic chair keeps intruders out and improves posture! Sit wrong? It nudges you into alignment. Try to steal from it? Well¡­ that¡¯s a different kind of correction.¡± Rytha gave him a flat stare. ¡°That¡¯s not security¡ªthat¡¯s an accident waiting to happen.¡± ¡°Only for people with bad intentions or bad posture,¡± Thadan countered. ¡°And really, isn¡¯t that natural selection at work?¡± Shaking her head, she exhaled sharply. ¡°Vess, Pez¡ªthe big one goes against that wall. Mind the corners, it¡¯s a deep-dweller.¡± Her party¡ªpresumably Vess and Pez¡ªgrunted acknowledgment as they maneuvered their burden into position. ¡°Payment?¡± Rytha¡¯s attention snapped to Thadan even as her companions continued arranging the smaller containers. ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Thadan circled the largest cage with exaggerated interest. ¡°But first, let¡¯s make sure everything¡¯s in order. Brak, come take a look at this. Does this really look like a deep-dweller to you?¡± Brakar felt his stomach tighten. He recognized that tone¡ªthe same one Thadan used when trying to haggle down prices at the market or convince guild clerks to waive late fees. It never ended well. ¡°Payment first,¡± Rytha said, her voice dropping an octave. ¡°Then you can examine them all you want.¡± ¡°Just a quick peek,¡± Thadan insisted, tugging at the cloth cover. ¡°Want to make sure we¡¯re getting what we paid for, right?¡± ¡°What you haven¡¯t paid for yet.¡± Rytha¡¯s skin darkened to a stormy blue. ¡°The manuscripts?¡± ¡°Right, right. About those...¡± Thadan¡¯s hand dropped from the cloth. ¡°Funny story, actually. Might need a bit more time to locate them. You know how it is with family archives, everything gets so disorganized¡ª¡± The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Brakar recognized the habitual tremor creeping into his hands¡ªthe one that signaled impending disaster in a dungeon run. ¡°Payment.¡± Rytha¡¯s voice had gone completely flat. ¡°Now. I need to go back to the Copper Mines.¡± ¡°Look, why don¡¯t you come back later? Gives you time to go there, right?¡± The shadows in the corners of the room began to writhe. Brakar observed in horror as darkness pooled beneath Rytha¡¯s feet, spreading outward like ink spilled across parchment. Where it touched, the floor disappeared, replaced by a bottomless void that pulsed with energy. Red-black lightning crackled around her form, casting strange reflections off her now-metallic skin. Her hand shot out fast, closing around Thadan¡¯s throat. The shadows followed, wrapping around them both like hungry tentacles. ¡°Let me be clear. You will pay me what you owe. Now.¡± Thadan¡¯s Adam¡¯s apple bobbed against her grip. ¡°About that... see, there might be a slight issue with the immediate transfer of funds¡ª¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have it.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. Behind them, Rytha¡¯s companions shifted uncomfortably. The dwarf took a half-step forward before the elf caught his arm, giving a small, firm shake of her head. The shadows continued to spread, crawling up the walls like living things. Where they touched, reality blurred, as if the very substance of the world was being eaten away by whatever power Rytha was channeling. ¡°Now hold on,¡± Thadan managed, his voice strained but somehow maintaining its usual conversational tone. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can work something out. Maybe some kind of payment plan? Or we could discuss alternative forms of compensation¡ª¡± The shadows constricted. Red lightning danced across Rytha¡¯s skin, which had taken on the texture of polished obsidian. ¡°You promised me those manuscripts.¡± Her voice echoed strangely, as if coming from very far away. ¡°You swore they were genuine. That they contained his original notes.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°They are! They do! I just need extra time to¡ª¡± ¡°Time?¡± The word carried enough venom to kill a basilisk. ¡°You waste my time, risk my team, transport valuable merchandise across half the city, and now you tell me you need extra time?¡± The void beneath their feet pulsed, sending ripples of darkness across what remained of the visible floor. Brakar could feel the mimics stir restlessly in their containers, responding to the waves of magical energy filling the room. ¡°I can explain,¡± Thadan wheezed. ¡°Explain quickly.¡± ¡°The manuscripts... they¡¯re real, I swear. But they¡¯re... they¡¯re not exactly in my possession at the moment.¡± The shadows tightened further. ¡°Where are they?¡± ¡°My father¡¯s vault. In Brightkeep.¡± The merfolk¡¯s skin flashed through a vibrant array of hues so quickly it made Brakar¡¯s eyes hurt. ¡°You promised me documents you don¡¯t even have access to?¡± ¡°I can get them! I just need¡ª¡± ¡°If you say ¡®time¡¯ one more time, I will show you exactly what the shadows between worlds look like from the inside.¡± The lightning intensified, casting strange patterns across the ceiling. The void beneath them deepened, if that was even possible, and Brakar could have sworn he heard whispers coming from its depths. Rytha¡¯s party had backed up against the far wall, clearly wanting no part of whatever was about to happen. The elf was muttering something that might have been a prayer, while the dwarf just shook his head slowly. ¡°Look,¡± Thadan managed, his face starting to turn an interesting shade of purple, ¡°I know this looks bad¡ª¡± ¡°Bad?¡± Rytha¡¯s laugh held no humor. ¡°You haven¡¯t begun to see bad.¡± The shadows writhed more violently, and for a moment, Brakar caught glimpses of things moving in the void¡ªshapes that hurt his eyes to look at, geometries that shouldn¡¯t exist in normal space. ¡°But I have a plan!¡± Thadan¡¯s words came out in a rush. ¡°A real one this time! Just... just give me a chance to explain?¡± Rytha¡¯s grip didn¡¯t loosen, but she tilted her head, like a predator considering whether to play with its food before eating it. Like a sudden judgment, a blinding flash of divine light slammed Rytha against the wall with explosive force, obliterating her shadows in an instant. Where the creeping void had been moments before, a gleaming figure now stood, radiating energy so intense it stung Brakar¡¯s eyes. The figure¡ªclad in bronze-tinted platemail that glew from within¡ªraised a war hammer crackling with consecrated power. Rytha struggled against the divine binding, her skin cycling through shades of bruised purple and stormy gray. The shadows around her writhed weakly, trying to reform but dissolving under the relentless radiance. Everything happened at once. Thadan lunged forward with a strangled cry. Rytha¡¯s companions charged from opposite directions. Brakar found himself moving before his mind could catch up, driven by pure instinct. They collided with the armored figure in a chaotic tangle of limbs and desperate grabs. ¡°Wait!¡± Brakar¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°Stop!¡± The hammer swung in a vicious arc. Someone yelped. Metal scraped against metal. Through the confusion, Brakar caught a glimpse of familiar orange skin. ¡°Othh¡¯nam¡¯?b-Br?ghan M?zg¡¯rg-U¡¯fthgarz!¡± Thadan¡¯s voice cut through the chaos like a knife. The hammer froze mid-swing. Silence fell, broken only by heavy breathing and the fading crackle of holy energy. The citrus-colored orc priest blinked in surprise, his momentum arrested by the sound of his full name. ¡°Don¡¯t attack!¡± Brakar held up his hands. ¡°Everyone just... stay calm.¡± ¡°Calm?¡± Othh¡¯s deep voice rumbled with confusion. ¡°I saw void magic! Dark energy! I thought¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine!¡± Thadan wheezed, still rubbing his throat. ¡°Just a small business disagreement! Everything¡¯s under control!¡± ¡°Business... disagreement?¡± Othh lowered his hammer slowly, divine light dimming. ¡°But the shadows¡ª¡± ¡°Were entirely justified!¡± Othh sucked in a breath and let it out in a huff. ¡°I came here to give you the deposit early.¡± He reached for his belt and pulled out a small pouch. Before anyone could react, Thadan snatched it from his hand and tossed it to Rytha. Coins clinked inside. ¡°There! Twenty silver. I¡¯ll get you the notes, I swear. No hard feelings, right?¡± Rytha caught the pouch reflexively. Without a word, she turned and stalked toward the door. Her companions¡ªthe elf and dwarf who¡¯d been watching the whole scene with increasing discomfort¡ªhurried after her. ¡°By the gods, he was a true envoy of the Order of the Sunlit Depths,¡± the elf muttered. ¡°Never seen an orc that orange before. Must¡¯ve been on holy magic since he left the tit,¡± said the dwarf. The door slammed behind them with enough force to rattle the windows. Silence stretched for several long moments. ¡°So,¡± Othh said finally, gesturing at the cloth-covered cages scattered around the room. ¡°Are we going to discuss the mimics?¡± After everything that had just happened, Brake had almost forgotten about their ¡°merchandise.¡± The cages sat accusingly in the wreckage of their transaction, impossible to explain away. ¡°Right.¡± Thadan brushed his hand across his hair. ¡°About that...¡± ¡°We should probably tell him the truth,¡± Brakar said quietly. ¡°The truth?¡± Othh raised an eyebrow. ¡°You mean about the lanterns being mimics?¡± Brakar¡¯s jaw dropped. Beside him, Thadan made a choking sound. ¡°You... knew?¡± The orc¡¯s laughter filled the room, deep and resonant. ¡°Of course I knew! Quite fascinating.¡± ¡°But...¡± Thadan struggled to find words. ¡°You never said anything!¡± ¡°I assumed it was part of the experience!¡± Othh¡¯s shoulders shook with mirth. ¡°I thought everyone was just playing along!¡± ¡°Playing along?¡± Brakar grew a slight faint. ¡°With man-eating beasts?¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Othh wiped tears from his eyes. ¡°Though I must admit, I was curious how you managed to keep them so well-behaved. Most mimics I¡¯ve encountered in my inspection work aren¡¯t nearly so... cooperative.¡± Brakar and Thadan exchanged looks. ¡°That would be a secret. We can¡¯t reveal that information.¡± Thadan said. ¡°Let¡¯s just say we have a way with them.¡± ¡°Really? Still, fascinating!¡± ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s talk about those lanterns you need...¡± ¡°My supervisor won¡¯t stop talking about the one you rented me. He asks me every time how it works. Even had a merchant from the upper tiers asking where I got it. If this keeps up, we might need a steady supply.¡± He hesitated for a moment, then added, ¡°Oh, and some weird guy¡ªpale as bone, dressed all prim¡ªasked me about it the same day I rented it. Looked like a vampire, but, y¡¯know, polite.¡± The conversation with Othh continued, drifting between practical business matters and enthusiastic tangents. Interlude 1: The Ratkin鈥檚 Report Vermil Threadwhisker¡¯s ears swiveled at every sound as he hurried down Merchant¡¯s Row, his expensive waistcoat drawing curious glances from the evening crowd. The setting sun cast long shadows between the buildings, and he found himself checking them compulsively, as if expecting to find something. Someone. His perfectly groomed fur stood on end. The usual evening bustle of Ironweave¡¯s market district felt oppressive tonight, each passerby a potential threat. He¡¯d been making his routine information gathering rounds when that prickling sensation had started at the base of his tail¡ªthe feeling of being watched. The ratkin¡¯s steps quickened, his claws clicking against the ground. In his head, he rehearsed his report: ¡°Nothing unusual to report, my lord. The market remains stable, with no significant¡ª¡± The sound of hooves on stone made him freeze. A carriage rounded the corner ahead, its black lacquered surface reflecting the last rays of sunlight. Vermil¡¯s heart hammered against his ribs as it drew closer, moving at a deliberately measured pace. Just another merchant¡¯s transport, he told himself. Just another¡ª The carriage stopped. Before Vermil could process what was happening, the door flew open. A bag descended over his head, rough hands grabbed his arms, and he found himself yanked off his feet. His startled squeak was muffled by the thick fabric as he was bundled into the carriage. ¡°Not. One. Word.¡± The voice was calm, controlled, and carried the promise of immediate violence. They lurched forward. Through the bag, Vermil smelled leather upholstery and something else¡ªa metallic tang that made his whiskers curl. He tried to count the turns, to track their route through the city, but soon lost track as the carriage picked up speed. Time stretched like cold honey. His tail, usually so carefully groomed and positioned, lay limp against the seat. The fabric of the bag scratched against his nose, carrying traces of previous... occupants. He tried not to think about that. Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably closer to one, they stopped. The same rough hands guided him out, their grip professional rather than cruel. The ground beneath his feet changed from stone to something softer¡ªgrass? Fallen leaves? The air smelled different too, carrying hints of pine and decay rather than the city¡¯s familiar mix of smoke and spices. When they removed the bag, Vermil found himself in a small clearing. Lanterns hung from the surrounding trees, their light arranged to create shadows rather than dispel them. Armed guards stood at strategic points, their armor bearing no identifying marks. And there, in the darkest corner of the clearing, stood a figure that made Vermil¡¯s fur stand on end. Wearing an ornate mask that concealed every feature, they watched. They didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t speak. Only observed. Whether it was Lord Vale or not, Vermil couldn¡¯t be sure. A well-dressed assistant stepped forward, his movements precise and refined. Everything about him spoke of careful cultivation¡ªfrom his pressed clothes to his meticulously maintained fingernails. When he smiled, it never reached his eyes. ¡°Ah, Master Threadwhisker. Do forgive the rather dramatic means of transportation. Lord Vale prefers to maintain certain traditions.¡± The assistant adjusted his gloves. ¡°You¡¯ll grow accustomed to it, I¡¯m sure.¡± Vermil straightened his back trying to project an air of unruffled professionalism. ¡°Of course, of course! Always an honor to serve his lordship, whatever the circumstances!¡± His voice came out higher than intended, but he pressed on. ¡°I assume you¡¯d like my report?¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± The assistant¡¯s smile remained fixed. ¡°Lord Vale is particularly interested in any potential market disruptions. New enterprises that might affect his furniture business, for instance.¡± ¡°Well, as it happens, there is a new establishment. They registered recently! Called ¡®Mimic & Co.¡¯ though I couldn¡¯t gather much detail about their intended merchandise.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The assistant¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but something in the air shifted. In his corner, Lord Vale remained motionless, the mask¡¯s empty eyes fixed on Vermil. ¡°Do tell.¡± ¡°Well, there were two proprietors,¡± Vermil continued, words tumbling out faster now. ¡°One looked quite nervous¡ªscholarly type, probably the bookkeeper. But his partner...¡± He swallowed. ¡°Rather intimidating fellow. Made it difficult to conduct a proper investigation.¡± The assistant glanced toward Lord Vale. The masked figure gave no response, no acknowledgment¡ªhis presence like a storm about to break. ¡°Is that all?¡± The assistant¡¯s voice had gained an edge. ¡°I... that is...¡± Vermil¡¯s tail curled defensively. ¡°It¡¯s early days yet, but I¡¯m sure with more time¡ª¡± The assistant moved faster than Vermil¡¯s eyes could track. Suddenly, those manicured fingers were around his throat, lifting him a few inches off the ground. The grip was precise and controlled. ¡°Are you certain,¡± the assistant¡¯s voice remained conversational, ¡°that you¡¯re not simply inventing threats to justify your fee?¡± Vermil gasped, paws scrabbling at the iron grip. ¡°Eight!¡± he wheezed. ¡°Eight Merchant¡¯s End! That¡¯s their address! I swear it!¡± The assistant¡¯s fingers tightened a bit. ¡°And these proprietors?¡± ¡°Two of them!¡± Vermil trembled. ¡°The tall one¡ªmust be six feet¡ªhe¡¯s got this wild brown hair, maybe twenty-five? Carries himself like he¡¯s used to fighting. Handsome enough to be trouble.¡± ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°The other one¡¯s shorter, quiet type. Black hair, keeps it neat unlike his friend. Same age but carries himself different¡ªmore reserved, like he¡¯s always thinking things through. Some kind of scholar or healer, from what I gathered.¡± The pressure vanished. Vermil dropped to his knees, coughing, as the assistant calmly adjusted his gloves. ¡°There now, that wasn¡¯t so difficult, was it?¡± The assistant¡¯s tone had returned to its usual pleasant register. ¡°We do appreciate your diligence, Master Threadwhisker.¡± A pouch of coins landed at Vermil¡¯s feet. ¡°For your troubles.¡± Still massaging his throat, Vermil looked around the clearing. Everyone was starting to leave. ¡°How... how am I supposed to get back?¡± Vermil asked, hating the tremor in his voice. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where we are.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± The assistant¡¯s smile widened fractionally. ¡°I¡¯m afraid Lord Vale has an appointment.¡± It was such an obvious lie that Vermil almost laughed. Almost. The kind of lie that existed purely to demonstrate that truth was irrelevant¡ªthat explanations were a courtesy Lord Vale¡¯s organization no longer felt the need to extend. Vermil stood alone in the clearing, his waistcoat now rumpled, his waxed whiskers askew. Somewhere in the darkness, an owl called¡ªonce, twice, three times. Vermil¡¯s ears twitched at each sound, tracking their direction, trying to determine if they were real or another message he wasn¡¯t meant to understand. The pouch of coins felt heavy in his pocket as he started walking, following what he hoped was a path back to civilization. Each step crunched against leaves, the sound impossibly loud in the gathering dark. He had no idea where he was going, but anywhere was better than where he was. He broke into a run, no longer caring about direction or dignity. His clothes caught on thorns, but he barely noticed the tears. Another branch snapped behind him. Vermil ran faster, his perfect posture forgotten, his whiskers flattened against his face. He ran until the trees began to thin, until the ground began to slope downward, until¡ª He burst out of the forest onto a road. An actual road, with wheel ruts and hoof prints and signs of civilization. Vermil collapsed against a milestone, gasping for breath, his fur matted with sweat and leaves. The milestone¡¯s weathered surface bore an arrow pointing east: ¡°IRONWEAVE - 3 MILES¡± Vermil laughed, the sound high with a hint of hysteria. Three miles. He could walk that in his sleep. Had walked it many times, gathering information for various clients. His whiskers were ruined without proper wax, but that seemed trivial now. As he walked, Vermil couldn¡¯t help but question everything. Why the bag if they were going to let him figure out his way back? Was it some kind of psychological torture, a way to keep him off balance? Or was it simply another demonstration of Lord Vale¡¯s power, a reminder that even the smallest details were controlled by forces beyond his understanding? The more he thought about it, the more he realized how little he truly knew. The bag, the carriage, the clearing¡ªit all felt like an orchestrated performance, designed to keep him guessing, to keep him afraid. And it had worked. Every step he took was haunted by the memory of that mask, those hands, that voice. Vermil¡¯s mind raced with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Was this all a test? A way to see how far he could be pushed before he broke? Or was there something more sinister at play, something he couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend? He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they clung to him like the shadows in the forest. No matter how far he walked, he couldn¡¯t shake the sense of unseen eyes tracking him, that every step was being measured, every move calculated. Chapter 19: Magic Through the Cracks The world spun and blurred as Brakar stumbled through the doorway from the backroom, his legs trembling beneath him like a newborn foal¡¯s. Sweat plastered his tunic to his skin, and each breath came in ragged gasps that appeared to scrape his lungs raw. The simple act of staying upright required more concentration than casting his first cantrip. The front room of Mimic & Co. swam before his eyes - or perhaps it was just his vision going fuzzy around the edges. He caught himself against the doorframe, the rough wood digging into his palm as he fought to remain standing. ¡°By the gods, is that you Brak?¡± Thadan¡¯s voice appeared to come from very far away. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been wrestling a hydra.¡± Brakar attempted to respond, but all that came out was a wheeze. His knees buckled, and he would have face-planted if Thadan hadn¡¯t lunged forward to catch him. ¡°Whoa there! I¡¯ve seen drunks at The Six Spoons with better balance.¡± Thadan guided him to the mimic-sofa, which promptly reconfigured its cushions to better cradle Brakar¡¯s boneless collapse. ¡°What happened? Did one of the mimics fight back?¡± Brakar shook his head weakly, immediately regretting the motion as it made the room spin faster. ¡°Just... drained,¡± he managed. ¡°Big one... took everything.¡± Understanding dawned on Thadan¡¯s face. ¡°Ah, right. The deep-dweller. Must¡¯ve been a beast to transform something so enormous into a lantern.¡± He paused, brow furrowing. ¡°Actually, that¡¯s pretty remarkable. I didn¡¯t think you could make something that big turn into something so small. Though it¡¯s still pretty big for a lantern.¡± ¡°Neither... did I.¡± Brakar closed his eyes, trying to will the world to stop tilting. ¡°Well, ?it worked! Although you seem like you were dragged through all nine hells backward.¡± Thadan started pacing, his footsteps echoing ?in Brakar¡¯s exhausted mind. ¡°How long until you recover? We might need to step up production soon, especially if Othh spreads the word about our ¡®never-extinguishing¡¯ lanterns.¡± The question sparked a bitter laugh which then turned into a cough. ¡°Recovery... that¡¯s complicated.¡± Brakar forced his eyes open, watching Thadan¡¯s blurry form move back and forth across the shop floor. ¡°Been trying to advance beyond Conduit level for years. Still stuck.¡± ¡°Conduit level?¡± Thadan¡¯s pacing stopped. ¡°Is it like... a magical rank or something?¡± ¡°Sort of.¡± Brakar was trying to sit up straighter, but the mimic-sofa wouldn¡¯t let him. Probably for the best. ¡°There are gates - meridians - that mages have to open in sequence. Each one represents mastery over different aspects of magical energy.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Thadan¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Like how adventuring ranks work? So you¡¯re what, Copper rank in magic?¡± Brakar pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting both exhaustion and exasperation. ¡°Not... exactly. It¡¯s more like...¡± He searched for an analogy Thadan would understand. ¡°Remember when you tried to teach me swordplay?¡± ¡°When you couldn¡¯t even lift the practice sword? Hard to forget.¡± ¡°Right. Well, imagine if before you could move on to actual fighting techniques, you had to master holding the sword perfectly still for hours. Then once you managed that, you had to learn to move it in precise patterns while maintaining that same perfect control. One tiny mistake and you¡¯d have to start over.¡± ¡°Sounds boring.¡± Thadan resumed his pacing, faster now. ¡°So what rank are you stuck at?¡± ¡°Conduit. Second gate.¡± Brakar watched Thadan¡¯s boots wear a path in the floor. ¡°Can¡¯t seem to stabilize my essence flow enough to open the third.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s... bad?¡± ¡°It means my magical reserves are limited. Like trying to pour a lake through a garden hose.¡± Brakar¡¯s eyes drifted closed again. ¡°Most mages my age are at least Channelers by now. Some have reached Weaver.¡± ¡°But you can control mimics!¡± Thadan¡¯s voice took on the familiar excited tone that usually preceded terrible ideas. ¡°That¡¯s got to count for something, right?¡± ¡°It¡¯s because I¡¯m bad at magic.¡± Brakar couldn¡¯t keep the bitterness from his voice. ¡°My essence flow is... wrong. Like you alway say, speaking with an accent, but with magic. Happens to match how mimics process energy, but it¡¯s considered a flaw by proper mages.¡± ¡°A flaw that lets you transform mimics! Speaking of which, do you know anyone who might be able to help? Someone who could teach you to handle bigger transformations without ending up looking like death warmed over?¡± Brakar¡¯s tired mind drifted back through years of magical education, searching for someone who might understand his unique situation. Most of his teachers had written him off as hopeless, but there had been one... ¡°Professor Gaifelon,¡± he mumbled. ¡°My old instructor from basic training.¡± ¡°Perfect!¡± Thadan clapped his hands, the sound making Brakar wince. ¡°Where can we find him?¡± ¡°What? No, I can¡¯t... I haven¡¯t seen him in years.¡± Brakar tried to push himself up, but his arms refused to cooperate. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m in no condition to-¡° ¡°Nonsense! No time like the present!¡± Thadan was already gathering his things. ¡°Where does he teach?¡± ¡°The Academy¡¯s eastern campus, but-¡° ¡°Excellent! Up you go!¡± Thadan grabbed Brakar¡¯s arm, hauling him to his feet despite his protests. ¡°A little walk will do you good. Clear your head, get the blood flowing.¡± ¡°Thadan, I can barely stand-¡° ¡°That¡¯s why the gods invented leaning on friends! Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner you can sit down again.¡± As Thadan half-dragged, half-carried him toward the door, Brakar caught a glimpse of their reflection in one of the shop¡¯s windows. He looked worse than he felt - pale as a ghost, dark circles under his eyes, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He would have argued further, but speaking required energy he didn¡¯t have. The last coherent thought that crossed his mind before Thadan pulled him out into the street was that Gaifelon was going to take one look at him and wonder what had happened to a promising young student he¡¯d once known. Then again, given how often he¡¯d shown up to his classes looking like he was trampled by a herd of wild horses (the result of countless failed attempts to master ¡°proper¡± magical technique), maybe he wouldn¡¯t be surprised at all. **** Brakar¡¯s boots scuffed against stones as they climbed the steps to Professor Gaifelon¡¯s office. Each scrape brought back memories of his student days¡ªthe nervous anticipation before exams, the weight of spellbooks under his arm, the constant worry that today would be the day someone finally noticed how wrong his magic felt. ¡°Quite a climb. Your old professor couldn¡¯t have an office on the ground floor?¡± ¡°Traditional magical architecture,¡± Brakar explained, grateful for the distraction from his thoughts. ¡°Height correlates with status. Ground floor is for beginners, top floor for masters.¡± ¡°So ?the more important you are, the more stairs you climb?¡± Thadan snorted. ¡°Sounds like someone confused cause and effect.¡± ¡°Almost there,¡± Brakar said, more to himself than Thadan. The familiar knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. ¡°Just... let me do the talking?¡± ¡°What, worried I¡¯ll embarrass you in front of your old teacher?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Thadan laughed. ¡°Fair enough.¡± They reached the final landing. The door to the professor¡¯s office stood the same as Brakar remembered it¡ªdark wood worn smooth by countless hands, brass nameplate polished to a mirror shine. Even the faint smell of ozone that perpetually lingered in magical academies was stronger here, as if recognizing the authority behind that door. Brakar raised his hand to knock, then hesitated. ¡°Having second thoughts?¡± Thadan asked. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°It¡¯s just...¡± Brakar lowered his hand. ¡°What if he can¡¯t help? What if this is just a waste of time?¡± ¡°Then we¡¯re where we started, minus a bit of walking.¡± Thadan clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Come on, partner. Worst-case scenario, we get to promote our new business to your old teacher.¡± Before Brakar could respond, the door swung open. Professor Gaifelon stood in the doorway¡ªsilver hair sticking out at odd angles, robe pockets bulging with an impossible number of notebooks, wire-rimmed spectacles repaired so many times they seemed to have developed their own minor enchantments. His stern expression melted into genuine delight. ¡°Brakar Caneca!¡± The professor¡¯s voice boomed through the hallway. ¡°And you¡¯ve brought a friend?¡± ¡°Yes, this is my friend and business partner, Thadan Ginedras. But, um, professor,¡± Brakar said before Thadan could launch into their full business pitch. ¡°I need your help.¡± Gaifelon¡¯s expression sharpened, professional curiosity replacing casual interest. ¡°Of course, of course. Come in, both of you.¡± He stepped aside, gesturing them into his office. ¡°Mind the stacks¡ªthey¡¯re organized by a system that only makes sense to me.¡± Books and scrolls filled every available surface, teetering stacks that seemed to maintain an impossible suspension. Star charts and magical diagrams covered the walls, some annotated so heavily the original images were almost not visible. A brass contraption that might have been an astrolabe ticked on the corner of the massive desk, though Brakar noticed it was counting down rather than measuring time. ¡°Sit, sit!¡± Gaifelon waved them toward two chairs that had been cleared of papers. ¡°Tell me what brings you back after all these years.¡± Brakar perched on the edge of his chair, hands clasped to keep them from fidgeting. ¡°It¡¯s about my... condition.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± The professor¡¯s excitement dimmed. ¡°I always wondered if you¡¯d find a way to work around it.¡± ¡°I did. Sort of.¡± Brakar glanced at Thadan, who nodded encouragingly. ¡°I discovered I can communicate with mimics.¡± Gaifelon¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Mimics? The predatory shapeshifters? Fascinating! How did you discover this ability?¡± ¡°By accident. My spells come out wrong¡ªyou remember how they always translated incorrectly? It turns out mimics understand that ¡®accent.¡¯ I can convince them to transform into anything I tell them to.¡± ¡°Which is where our business comes in,¡± Thadan added helpfully. The professor leaned forward, papers crinkling under his elbows. ¡°You¡¯re using this ability commercially? More fascinating! But I assume there¡¯s a problem, or you wouldn¡¯t be here.¡± Brakar nodded. ¡°It¡¯s exhausting. The transformations drain my energy. I was hoping... maybe there¡¯s a way to make it more efficient? To handle more at once?¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Gaifelon stood abruptly, sending several stacks of papers cascading to the floor. He ignored them, moving to a cabinet made entirely of drawers. ¡°This calls for proper testing. We need to establish your current capabilities, examine the exact nature of your channel configuration...¡± He began pulling out various implements. ¡°Would you be willing to participate in a few experiments?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Starting with the basics - show me your shields. The different shield strengths will show us how well you can access each gate¡¯s power.¡± Brakar¡¯s heart sank. He¡¯d never been particularly good at shield spells, even during his studies. Still, he raised his hands and began to gather his magic. ¡°Basic Shield first,¡± Gaifelon instructed, pulling out a notebook and quill. ¡°This will show us how well you can draw from your First Gate.¡± Brakar focused, drawing on his magical energy. The familiar sensation of power flowing through his channels felt as awkward as ever. Still, he managed to form the spell, and a small barrier of blue-tinted energy materialized in front of him. ¡°Hmm.¡± Gaifelon circled the shield, making quick notes. ¡°Unusual ripple patterns in the energy matrix... consistent with your previous work, but more pronounced. Try the Reinforced Shield now - it will reveal your Second Gate¡¯s capacity.¡± Brakar gathered more power, feeling the strain as he pushed it through his channels. The resulting shield was larger but unstable. ¡°Very interesting!¡± Gaifelon¡¯s quill scratched frantically across his notebook. ¡°The energy distribution is completely unorthodox, yet somehow maintaining coherent form. Greater Shield next - this will tell us if you can access your Third Gate¡¯s power.¡± Brakar tried, he really did. But as he attempted to channel the necessary power from his Third Gate, his magic sputtered and died, leaving nothing but a few sparkles of blue light that quickly faded. ¡°Now for the real test.¡± He grabbed the copper bowl from his desk and filled it with water from a crystal decanter. ¡°The Mage¡¯s Bowl will tell us what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± He set the bowl on a small pedestal and gestured for Brakar to approach. ¡°Just channel a small amount of power into the water - enough for a light spell.¡± Brakar did as instructed. In a normal mage¡¯s hands, the bowl would show neat, concentric ripples spreading out from the point of contact. Instead, Brakar¡¯s magic created jagged, irregular patterns, the water moving in sharp jolts and sudden swirls. ¡°Just as I suspected,¡± Gaifelon said, scribbling furiously. ¡°The tertiary channels can¡¯t handle that level of power flow. Not with their current configuration. Without proper channel alignment, you¡¯ll never be able to access your Third Gate.¡± ¡°But why?¡± Thadan interrupted. ¡°What¡¯s actually wrong with him?¡± The professor¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Wrong? Oh, nothing¡¯s wrong, precisely. It¡¯s more of a... unique variation. You see, when a mage first begins developing their magical channels, they start from their primary core¡ªhere.¡± He tapped his chest. ¡°The channels form outward in a very specific pattern, like roots growing from a seed.¡± He grabbed a piece of chalk and began sketching on his desk. ¡°Normal channel formation looks like this¡ªnice and orderly, yes? But in Brakar¡¯s case, something extraordinary happened. His secondary core¡ª¡± he drew another diagram ¡°¡ªdeveloped first.¡± ¡°Secondary core?¡± Thadan frowned. ¡°Yes, yes. All mages have multiple magical cores, but only the primary is usually developed. The others remain dormant. Except in Brakar¡¯s case, his secondary core spontaneously activated before anyone noticed. By the time the mistake was discovered, the channels were already permanently set.¡± Brakar remembered that day all too well. The look of confusion on his childhood tutors¡¯ faces as his spells came out wrong. The growing frustration as no amount of practice was helping. The eventual realization that something fundamental was different about his magic. ¡°So when he tried to progress normally,¡± Gaifelon continued, sketching rapidly, ¡°the power had to flow through these misaligned channels. The result was... well, rather spectacular failure, I imagine. The channels shattered under the strain.¡± He drew a third diagram showing a chaotic mess of lines. ¡°Now his magic has to take these circuitous routes, detouring through the broken pathways. Hence the... accent, as you call it.¡± ¡°But can it be fixed?¡± Thadan pressed. The professor¡¯s enthusiasm faltered. ¡°Ah. Well. That¡¯s the unfortunate part. These channel formations are permanent. Once set, they can¡¯t be realigned without...¡± he trailed off, grimacing. ¡°Without what?¡± ¡°Without destroying his existing magical pathways and starting over. Which would kill him.¡± The words fell like stones in a still pond. Brakar had known, deep down, that his condition was permanent, but hearing it stated so bluntly still hurt. For a brief moment, a single tear threatened to fall¡ªbut he was strong. He swallowed hard, forcing it back. ¡°This explains so much about your unusual affinity for mimic communication. Their magical signatures are naturally chaotic. I think your ¡®accent¡¯ matches their frequency better than proper spellcasting would! Unfortunately, your current channel configuration severely limits the amount of power you can safely handle. Attempting to force more through would be... inadvisable.¡± ¡°But there must be something we can do,¡± Thadan insisted. ¡°Some way to make it work better?¡± Gaifelon stroked his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Well... there are certain magical artifacts designed to enhance or stabilize spell casting. Focus rings, amplification staves, that sort of thing. In theory, they could help compensate for the inefficiency of your channels.¡± Brakar perked up slightly. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Oh yes. A good set of enhancement rings could potentially double your effective power output. A properly attuned staff might triple it. The problem is...¡± ¡°They¡¯re expensive,¡± Thadan finished flatly. ¡°Prohibitively so, I¡¯m afraid. Such items are typically found only in noble houses or major magical institutions. The materials alone cost more than most mages earn in a year.¡± The hope that had flickered in Brakar¡¯s chest for a moment guttered out. Even at their most successful, Steel Tempest had barely managed to keep up with basic living expenses. The kind of money needed for high-end magical artifacts might as well have been on the moon. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t be more help,¡± Gaifelon said, with genuine regret in his voice. ¡°But please don¡¯t think of your condition as a disability. You¡¯ve developed a unique way of interacting with magic. Perhaps instead of trying to force your magic into traditional patterns, you should focus on finding new applications for your... particular talents.¡± Brakar managed a weak smile. ¡°Thank you, Professor. For everything.¡± As they prepared to leave, Gaifelon suddenly snapped his fingers. ¡°Oh! One more thing.¡± He disappeared behind a towering stack of books, emerging moments later with a dusty tome. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to give this back to you. You left it behind when you... er, departed rather suddenly.¡± Brakar accepted the book with surprise. His old spellcraft journal, filled with notes from his student days. He¡¯d assumed it was lost years ago. ¡°There are some interesting observations in there,¡± the professor said. ¡°Your notes on alternative casting methods. Might be worth revisiting, given what we now know about your channels.¡± They said their goodbyes and stepped out into the hallway. The familiar sounds of the magic academy¡ªstudent chatter, distant explosions, the occasional screech of a transformed familiar¡ªwashed over Brakar. ¡°Well,¡± Thadan said after a moment. ¡°That was...¡± ¡°A waste of time?¡± Brakar supplied. ¡°I was going to say ¡®informative,¡¯ but yeah, kind of.¡± He put a hand on Brakar¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s get a drink. I¡¯m buying.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have any money.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯re buying, and I¡¯ll pay you back when business picks up.¡± Brakar snorted but didn¡¯t argue. After the day¡¯s revelations, a drink sounded pretty good. As they headed for the exit, he found himself thumbing through his old journal. The pages were filled with his younger self¡¯s desperate attempts to understand why his magic worked so differently, to find some way around his limitations. His magic might be broken, but broken things could sometimes be repurposed. And if there was one thing he¡¯d learned from their adventures, it was that the strangest solutions often proved the most effective. Now he just had to figure out how to turn a magical disability into a business advantage. The journal¡¯s worn cover seemed to pulse with potential under his fingers, like a mimic waiting to reveal its true form. Chapter 20: What Could Possibly Go Wrong? ¡°I think that¡¯s everything.¡± Thadan hoisted his weathered leather pack. Brakar watched from behind the front counter, fingers drumming against the polished wood. His friend looked ready for a proper journey ¨C boots recently oiled, sword belt adjusted for quick draws, and enough supplies to suggest this wasn¡¯t a casual trip. ¡°Three days?¡± Brakar asked, trying to keep the worry from his voice. ¡°Give or take.¡± Thadan adjusted the straps across his chest. ¡°Brightkeep¡¯s not exactly next door, but the trade roads are decent this time of year.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re sure about this? After what happened with Rytha?¡± Thadan¡¯s face split into an insufferable grin. ¡°Trust me, she¡¯ll come around once I deliver those notes. You didn¡¯t see how she reacted when I mentioned my father¡¯s name.¡± ¡°She tried to kill you.¡± ¡°Details, details.¡± Thadan waved dismissively. ¡°Besides, have my instincts ever been wrong?¡± Brakar raised an eyebrow. ¡°This time I¡¯m certain. I know it¡¯s a risk, but we need those mimics. And my father¡¯s research notes are what she wants.¡± ¡°Notes you haven¡¯t seen in years.¡± ¡°They¡¯re still in his study.¡± Thadan adjusted his pack again, a nervous tell Brakar recognized from their adventuring days. ¡°And if they¡¯re not, I¡¯ll figure something out. I always do. Always¡­¡± Brakar sighed, knowing there was no talking his friend out of this plan. ¡°What about Othh?¡± Brakar asked. ¡°He¡¯s supposed to pick up the lanterns tomorrow.¡± ¡°Ah, right!¡± Thadan¡¯s face brightened. ¡°If he gives you any trouble about the big one¡ªyou know, the deep-dweller we turned into a lantern¡ªjust ask if he¡¯s got any giants in his crew. Ogres, trolls, that sort of thing. Make it sound like we chose that size for them.¡± ¡°And if he doesn¡¯t?¡± ¡°Then...¡± Thadan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Suggest it would be perfect for lighting up large caverns? You know how building inspectors love their proper illumination.¡± Despite his anxiety, Brakar couldn¡¯t help but smile. Trust Thadan to have multiple angles worked out, even if they were all equally questionable. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t worry too much about security while I¡¯m gone,¡± Thadan added, patting the mimic-sofa as he passed it. ¡°Our cushioned friend here appears to be quite protective of the place. I¡¯m sure it considers it territory by now.¡± Brakar glanced at the sofa. It looked innocuous, which was how a mimic wanted to appear right before it tried to eat you. ¡°That¡¯s... not as reassuring as you think it is.¡± ¡°Better than any guard dog!¡± Thadan headed for the door, then paused with his hand on the handle. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Brak. What could possibly go wrong?¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t say that.¡± ¡°Right, sorry. Adventurer¡¯s curse.¡± Thadan opened the door, letting in a burst of morning air that carried the smell of fresh bread from the nearby bakery. ¡°Just keep the place running until I get back. You¡¯ve handled worse.¡± ¡°Be careful, alright?¡± Thadan¡¯s grin blasted back to his face. ¡°When am I not?¡± Before Brakar could list the numerous occasions which sprang to mind, Thadan stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him. Brakar stood there for a long moment, staring at the door as if expecting Thadan to burst back in with yet another last-minute instruction or half-formed idea. When it didn¡¯t happen, he allowed his shoulders to slump. Three days. He could handle the shop alone for three days. After all, they only had one scheduled customer, Othh and his inspection crew. And while he looked intimidating, he¡¯d seemed reasonable enough during their previous interactions. Even enthusiastic about their mimic-based business model, which was more than Brakar had dared hope for. Still, as he began his morning routine of checking inventory and ensuring none of their ¡°merchandise¡± had decided to redecorate overnight, Brakar couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of impending doom. It¡¯s only three days, he told himself. What¡¯s the worst that could happen? In just a few short weeks, they¡¯d transformed this abandoned building into something respectable. Maybe not the grand adventure they¡¯d once dreamed of, but a different kind of achievement. One built on careful planning and honest work rather than desperate gambles and last-minute escapes. Well, mostly honest work. He glanced at their inventory of ¡°eternally burning lanterns¡± and smiled wryly. Brakar forced himself to relax. This wasn¡¯t a dungeon crawl or a monster hunt. He was a legitimate businessman now, running a legitimate enterprise. Mostly legitimate. Somewhat legitimate? He shook his head, banishing the thought. Better to focus on practical matters. One problem at a time, he reminded himself. Like Thadan always says. Of course, Thadan¡¯s version usually ended with ¡°and if that doesn¡¯t work, hit it until it stops moving,¡± but the basic principle was sound. Brakar settled behind the counter, pulling out their ledger. Might as well use the quiet morning to catch up on bookkeeping. The numbers weren¡¯t great, but if they could maintain a steady flow of customers, keep their mimics fed and content, and avoid any major disasters for a few months... Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He realized he was tempting fate again and quickly closed the ledger. Brakar groaned and let his head thunk against the counter. He really needed to stop asking that question. The mimic-sofa made a sound. Brakar chose to interpret it as moral support. ¡°Thanks,¡± he muttered. ¡°At least someone¡¯s confident about this.¡± The sofa¡¯s only response was to adjust its cushions invitingly, but instead, he straightened up and tried to project an air of professional competence. He had promises to keep¡ªto Thadan, to their customers, and to himself. Whatever challenges the next three days might bring, he would face them. Preferably from behind this very solid counter, with plenty of room to run if things went wrong. The morning sun inched its way over the shop¡¯s floor. The door opened. It wasn¡¯t the wind. Brakar straightened his spine, put on his best professional expression, and prepared to face whatever the day might bring. **** Thadan had parked his rented carriage a mile away from his unsuspecting target, nestled behind a stand of oak trees where the old service road curved away from the main estate. No point announcing his arrival to the night guards who patrolled the grounds. He¡¯d chosen the spot carefully, close enough for a quick escape but far enough that no patrol would stumble across it. Perfect. Just like that job at the Silverwatch Tower. Except with less angry gargoyles this time. He reached into the wagon bed and grabbed a black leather pouch. Lockpicks, rope, smoke bombs, and a few other essentials clinked together inside. Everything a proper cat burglar needed for tonight¡¯s mission. Thadan crept through the surrounding woods toward the manor, his arms stretched out behind him as he ran in what he imagined was the perfect stealth posture. The pose made no tactical sense, but he¡¯d seen it in one of Pockets¡¯ Yakusan Extraordinary Tales scriptures and thought it looked cool. A branch snapped beneath his boot, and he froze mid-stride, arms still ridiculously extended behind him, before continuing his awkward approach to the objective. The full moon cast pale shadows across the manicured lawns of the grand estate, its silvery light turning the sprawling grounds into a monochromatic painting of blacks and grays. The imposing manor¡¯s silhouette loomed against the star-studded sky, windows dark and silent. Well, almost silent. A series of exaggerated grunts and huffs broke the peace as Thadan Ginedras, self-proclaimed master of stealth, executed what he believed to be a perfect tactical roll between two ornamental bushes. His leather armor creaked in protest as he pressed himself flat against the manor¡¯s stone wall, holding a dramatic pose that would have made any actual infiltration expert cringe. Now, as he pressed against the wall, Thadan couldn¡¯t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This was a job only he could pull off¡ªa mission that required his unique combination of skills and inside knowledge. The kind of impossible task that would make for a legendary tale if he survived to tell it. The servant¡¯s entrance came into view¡ªa simple wooden door, weathered but well-maintained. Thadan dropped into a crouch, then attempted to run toward it, his arms still trailing behind his back. The posture felt natural now. The effect was, however, somewhat ruined by his boots scuffing against the gravel path. The door wasn¡¯t locked. But that didn¡¯t stop Thadan from spending several minutes pretending to pick the lock with elaborate hand gestures before turning the handle. The kitchen beyond was dark and quiet, smelling of herbs and yesterday¡¯s bread. Thadan pressed himself against the wall again, this time making a series of completely unnecessary hand signals to himself. He pointed two fingers at his eyes, then toward the hallway, then gave himself an emphatic thumbs up. Perfect ninja skills, he thought proudly, conveniently ignoring the fact that he¡¯d just knocked over a copper pot and barely caught it before it hit the floor. He crept through the corridors, though ¡°crept¡± might have been a generous term for his exaggerated tiptoe walk. Every few steps he would freeze in an absurd pose, holding perfectly still as if that somehow made him invisible. The fact that he was alone in the house made these theatrical displays of stealth even more ridiculous. The door to his target stood at the end of the hall, its heavy oak panels gleaming in the darkness. Thadan approached it with all the subtlety of a drunken peacock, making ¡°stealthy¡± hand signals to imaginary teammates. He even threw in a few combat rolls for good measure, though the thick carpet muffled any dramatic sound effects. The prize was just beyond that door¡ªthe whole point of this ridiculous midnight infiltration. The study was as he expected it¡ªwalls lined with bookshelves, a massive desk dominating the center of the room, and various magical artifacts displayed in glass cases. The moonlight streaming through the tall windows gave everything an ethereal quality, as if the room existed in some liminal space between reality and dream. Thadan began his search, rummaging through drawers with exaggerated care. Each movement was accompanied by unnecessary flourishes and poses that would have made a theater troupe proud. He managed to knock over several items in his enthusiasm, but caught them in increasingly ridiculous positions¡ªbalancing on one foot, contorting himself like a pretzel, and catching one valuable-looking orb with his teeth. ¡°I am one with the shadows,¡± he whispered to himself, then stumbled over nothing. The search continued, punctuated by Thadan¡¯s running commentary to himself about his ¡°incredible stealth skills¡± and ¡°perfect infiltration technique.¡± He was so absorbed in his performance that he didn¡¯t notice the gradual brightening of the room until it was too late. Every lamp suddenly blazed to life, flooding the study with warm golden light. Thadan froze mid-pose, one leg raised in what he thought was a ninja stance, arms spread wide for balance. In the doorway stood Vermillion, the family butler, looking as proper as ever in his pressed uniform. His expression was one of indifference, as if finding the heir to the Brightsteel fortune breaking into his own home was simply another item on his daily checklist. ¡°Master Brightsteel,¡± Vermillion intoned in a voice as dry as ancient parchment, ¡°will you be staying the night?¡± Thadan lowered his leg, trying to maintain some dignity despite being caught in such a ridiculous position. ¡°Ah, Vermillion! I was... um...¡± The butler¡¯s eyebrow twitched slightly¡ªthe closest he ever came to showing actual emotion. ¡°Shall I have the kitchen prepare a late supper?¡± ¡°No, no, that won¡¯t be necessary. I¡¯m here to... retrieve something.¡± ¡°Of course, sir.¡± Vermillion¡¯s tone suggested he found nothing unusual about this explanation. ¡°Will you be requiring anything else?¡± ¡°No, thank you.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Without another word, the butler turned and left, closing the door behind him. Thadan waited until the footsteps faded before letting out a long breath. He¡¯d forgotten how Vermillion could appear out of nowhere like that. The man had an almost supernatural ability to materialize when you were doing something embarrassing. As he committed himself back to his important task, movement caught his eye¡ªa chest in the corner of the room that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. It was an ornate thing, made of dark wood and bound with silver. Under normal circumstances, he would have rushed right over to open it. But recent experiences with certain deceptive creatures had made him more cautious. He approached slowly, eyeing the chest with suspicion. Was that a hint of teeth in the grain of the wood? Did those silver bindings look a bit too much like tendons? He¡¯d seen enough mimics lately to know that anything could be hiding deadly surprises. ¡°You¡¯re being paranoid,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Not everything is a mimic. This is father¡¯s study¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t keep dangerous creatures in here.¡± Still, he hesitated before reaching for the lid. Memories of snapping jaws and grasping pseudopods made him tense instinctively. But this was different. This was home. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the lid and lifted it in one quick motion. Purple light erupted from within, bathing his face in an otherworldly glow. The ethereal radiance threw distorted silhouettes across his features, transforming his expression of surprise into something almost mystical. Inside the chest lay something powerful. Thadan Ginedras chuckled under his breath. Jackpot. Chapter 21: When It Rains, It Pours Inside Bean Works, sat Rytha Mar behind a towering stack of books. Her collection of texts looked like a fortress built of leather and parchment, with sticky notes and bookmarks protruding at precise intervals. Thadan stood in the doorway, taking a moment to compose himself. He¡¯d spent the entire journey back from Brightkeep rehearsing this conversation, planning every gesture and inflection. He approached her table with deliberate casualness, as if their last encounter hadn¡¯t ended with her attempting to remove his head from his body and throw it into a literal black hole. ¡°Rytha! What a completely unexpected surprise to find you here.¡± Her skin flickered to a darker shade of blue¡ªannoyance, he guessed¡ªbut she didn¡¯t look up from her book. ¡°Go away, Brightsteel.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t. Need coffee.¡± He dropped into the chair across from her. ¡°Besides, I brought you something.¡± ¡°Unless it¡¯s what you still owe me, I¡¯m not interested.¡± Thadan produced a leather folio with an exaggerated flourish. ¡°My father¡¯s personal notes on shadow-light manipulation, including his original theories on penumbral resonance.¡± That got her attention, though she tried to hide it. Still, she pushed back from the table. ¡°You think this will be enough?¡± ¡°Wait!¡± Thadan reached into his jacket. ¡°There¡¯s more.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re about to draw a weapon, I should warn you that I¡¯ve trapped this entire section with shadow¡ª¡± The words died in her throat as Thadan placed the artifact on the table between them. The Shadowfiend¡¯s Lamentation¡ªa crystal skull wrapped in chains of dark metal, absorbing the surrounding light. Even in the bright caf¨¦, it created a pocket of darkness around itself, as if reality couldn¡¯t quite decide how to process its existence. Rytha¡¯s eyebrows flew up before she could stop them. Her skin shifted rapidly through shades of blue and teal, betraying her excitement despite her attempt at maintaining a neutral expression. ¡°Where did you get that?!¡± ¡°Oh, you know.¡± Thadan waved vaguely. ¡°Found it in father¡¯s study. Along with these notes. Thought you might appreciate them more than some random collector.¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Why not sell it? Something like this would fetch enough gold to live a comfortable life for the rest of your days.¡± Thadan leaned back, adopting what he hoped was a sagely expression. ¡°Ah, but who would buy it? Such power requires... special qualities. Raw talent. Ethereal grace. A certain... je ne sais quoi.¡± He paused dramatically. ¡°Besides, it made three different merchants shit themselves in fear when I tried to sell it. Literally. They almost had me pay for their carpets.¡± A smile tugged at the corner of Rytha¡¯s mouth before she could suppress it. ¡°You¡¯re making that up.¡± ¡°I wish. Do you know how expensive Calishite rugs are?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Right, sorry.¡± He straightened in his chair. ¡°The point is, great power demands great responsibility. In the wrong hands, an artifact like this could... well...¡± He gestured at the skull. ¡°You know.¡± ¡°Cause dimensional instability and potentially tear reality apart at the seams?¡± ¡°I was going to say ¡®make things go all wonky,¡¯ but yes, that too.¡± He pushed the skull closer to her. ¡°Which is why it needs someone with the proper training. Someone who understands the delicate balance between light and shadow. Someone who¡ª¡± ¡°Are you reading from something?¡± ¡°What? No! I mean...¡± He hastily shoved a small piece of paper deeper into his sleeve. ¡°These are my genuine thoughts about your... unique qualities.¡± Rytha picked up the skull, turning it carefully in her webbed hands. ¡°And this has nothing to do with wanting more mimics for your furniture shop?¡± ¡°I am wounded by your suspicion!¡± Thadan pressed a hand to his chest. ¡°Here I am, offering you a priceless artifact of incredible power, and you accuse me of ulterior motives?¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay, fine. Yes, we could use more mimics. You¡¯re our only supplier. But that doesn¡¯t make anything I said less true! You are the most qualified person I know to handle something like this. And those notes?¡± He tapped the folio. ¡°Father would want them to go to someone who could use them.¡± ¡°Your father, whom you hate and haven¡¯t spoken to in years?¡± ¡°Exactly! Which makes this gesture even more meaningful, don¡¯t you think?¡± Rytha stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, a smile spread across her face¡ªnot her usual calculating smirk, but something genuinely amused. ¡°You are ridiculous.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t a compliment.¡± ¡°I¡¯m choosing to take it as one.¡± He pushed both the skull and the folio toward her. ¡°So, do we have a deal? The artifact and notes in exchange for regular mimic deliveries at reasonable prices?¡± She traced one of the skull¡¯s metal chains with a webbed finger. ¡°Well, considering how valuable this amulet is, I might be willing to do it. Free of charge. Hmm, I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®free.¡¯¡± ¡°What would it take?¡± Thadan asked, studying her expression. Rytha¡¯s skin switched to an iridescent sheen. ¡°One evening of your company. Dinner, perhaps?¡± Her eyes held a calculating gleam that made her true intentions clear. Thadan¡¯s jaw tightened. He knew why she was asking. It stung, still being seen as a Brightsteel. ¡°Only dinner?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see where the evening leads. You know what I¡¯m asking.¡± He was quiet for a moment. Being used as a stand-in didn¡¯t sit well, but... ¡°One evening. That¡¯s all.¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°That¡¯s all I want.¡± A predatory smile formed on her face. ¡°Deal!¡± Thadan stuck out his hand. Rytha looked at it for a moment, then shook her head and reached across to grasp it. ¡°Deal. But if you ever try to cheat me again...¡± ¡°I know, I know. Horrible shadow magic, eternal torment, reality-tearing consequences. I¡¯ve learned my lesson.¡± ¡°Have you?¡± ¡°Probably not. But I¡¯ll at least be more creative about it next time.¡± She rolled her eyes, but her skin had settled into a pleasant shade of blue-green that he chose to interpret as amusement. ¡°Get out of here before I change my mind.¡± Thadan stood, sketching an elaborate bow that drew annoyed looks from nearby patrons. ¡°A pleasure doing business with you, my lady of shadows.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push it.¡± He backed away, maintaining the bow until he nearly collided with a gear-table. ¡°I shall take my leave, then, secure in the knowledge that- ow!¡± He rubbed his shin where it had struck the table¡¯s edge. ¡°Right. Yes. Leaving now.¡± ¡°Idiot¡­¡± Rytha muttered. Thadan smiled to himself as he stepped out. Right now, he had a furniture business to run. And if anyone asked about the missing artifact, well... he¡¯d cross that dimensional bridge when he came to it. **** The mimic-chair skittered sideways just as Brakar tried to sit down, sending him stumbling into the counter. He caught himself with a grunt, throwing an accusatory glare at the furniture-shaped creature. ¡°Are you serious? Now?¡± He¡¯d been trying to take a break for the past hour, but the chair seemed determined to make that impossible. Every time he approached, it would shift to prevent him from actually sitting down. The door swung open. Brakar straightened up fast, trying to look professional despite his growing exhaustion. ¡°Welcome to Mimic & Co¡ª¡± he began, then recognized the orange-skinned orc filling the doorway. ¡°Ah, Othh. You¡¯re early.¡± Othh ducked his head to clear the doorframe. ¡°Had to start the inspections ahead of schedule. Cave systems are more extensive than initially reported.¡± He glanced around the shop. ¡°Where are my lanterns?¡± ¡°Of course, right this way.¡± Brakar led him toward the back room, where they¡¯d stored the transformed mimics. ¡°We have them all ready, as promised.¡± As they walked, Brakar silently cursed Thadan¡¯s timing. It was the third day, but no sign of Thadan yet. And of course the chair would choose today to be difficult. And of course¡ª¡°What is this?¡± Othh¡¯s voice pulled him from his thoughts. The orc was holding up one of the lanterns¡ªspecifically, the transformed deep-dweller mimic. Even in lantern form, it was substantially larger than the others. ¡°This won¡¯t work. Too cumbersome.¡± Brakar felt sweat beading on his forehead. What had Thadan said about this situation? Something about... right! ¡°Well,¡± he said, trying to sound confident, ¡°we prepared that one with larger crew members in mind. You wouldn¡¯t happen to have any ogres in your inspection team? Or trolls? Perhaps a colossi?¡± Othh frowned. ¡°Now that you mention it...¡± His expression brightened. ¡°Yes! Grakknak joined last week. Seven-foot colossi, specializes in structural assessment.¡± ¡°Perfect!¡± Brakar¡¯s relief was too obvious. ¡°That lantern will be ideal for someone of that size.¡± The door swung open again. And again. And again. Brakar saw a small crowd forming in the entrance. Merchants, adventurers, and what appeared to be a group of junior building inspectors¡ªall talking at once, all looking expectantly toward the counter. ¡°I heard you have endless-burning lanterns?¡± ¡°Is it true about the unbreakable furniture?¡± ¡°We need something for our expedition¡ª¡± ¡°A vampire recommended¡ª¡± The voices overlapped into a cacophony of demands and questions. Brakar felt his chest tighten. This was... this was a lot. Too much. He needed to focus on Othh first, needed to address these customers somehow, needed to¡ªThe mimic-chair chose that moment to slide across the floor with an audible scrape, drawing several curious looks. Don¡¯t panic, he told himself. One problem at a time. Trust what Thadan says. ¡°If you¡¯ll give me a moment to¡ª¡± ¡°Of course.¡± The orc nodded understanding. ¡°I¡¯ll examine these while you handle the crowd.¡± Brakar hurried back to the counter, where the press of bodies had grown even larger. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, waving coins or documentation or guild credentials. He tried to focus on individual voices, but they blurred together into a wall of noise. ¡°Please,¡± he raised his voice, ¡°if you could just¡ª¡± ¡°I need three lanterns by tomorrow¡ª¡± ¡°Do you have any chairs like that one¡ª¡± ¡°Are you friends with the smoking hot, sexy leopard-girl?¡± Movement caught his eye¡ªthe mimic-chair was now rotating in place, apparently fascinated by all the attention. Several customers were pointing at it, whispering among themselves. This is fine, Brakar thought desperately. Everything is fine. A new figure pushed through the crowd¡ªtall and slender, with downy grey wings folded against their back. A high-collared, fur-trimmed cloak draped over their shoulders, the earthy tones of browns, burgundy, delicate teal, and amber blending seamlessly with their surroundings. The wide-brimmed hood cast their face in shadow, though the warmth in their gaze still managed to shine through. A moth-folk woman, her antennae twitching as she surveyed the chaos. ¡°Excuse me,¡± she said, her voice somehow cutting through the noise without being loud. ¡°I saw your hiring notice?¡± Brakar blinked. They hadn¡¯t posted any hiring notices. But at this point... ¡°You¡¯re hired,¡± he said in an instant. ¡°Can you help me organize this? Brakar leaned in, lowering his voice. We don¡¯t have enough inventory to cover everyone. I can try to take orders.¡± She smiled. ¡°Of course. I¡¯m Naia.¡± She turned to address the crowd, her voice carrying effortlessly. ¡°Everyone seeking to place an order, please take a number and wait along the wall. We¡¯ll process requests in sequence.¡± Where had she gotten numbered tokens from? Brakar hadn¡¯t seen her holding anything, but suddenly she was distributing them, herding the crowd into order. ¡°But I need¡ª¡± one customer began to protest. ¡°And we¡¯ll address your needs promptly,¡± Naia assured them, ¡°in the order indicated by your number. Now, who has number one?¡± Brakar watched in amazement as she transformed the chaos into an orderly queue. Even the mimic-chair seemed to settle down, though it had positioned itself for a better view of the proceedings. The rest of the morning passed in a blur of transactions and inquiries. Naia proved invaluable, handling customer interactions with a grace that made Brakar wonder if she¡¯d done this before. She seemed to know what questions to ask, what details to note down, and how to manage expectations when items weren¡¯t available. ¡°Would you prefer to place a deposit now to secure your order?¡± Brakar focused on processing the paperwork, grateful for the breathing room her presence provided. He even managed to properly conclude business with Othh, who seemed quite pleased with the lanterns - especially the larger one, once he¡¯d considered its potential applications. The afternoon sun was slanting through the windows when the door opened one final time. Brakar looked up from his ledger to see Thadan standing in the doorway, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows. The shop was still full of waiting customers, but now they were organized into neat groups, each clutching numbered tokens and speaking in reasonable volumes. The mimic-chair had finally settled into a proper position. ¡°I leave for three days,¡± Thadan said, grinning, ¡°and you turn this place into a proper business? Are you a genius? Or do I suck that much?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Why is the chair doing the cha-cha?¡± Brakar turned to see the mimic-chair had indeed begun a slow, swaying motion that did bear a disturbing resemblance to dancing. He dropped his head onto the counter with a thunk. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Thadan clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°But maybe we should discuss expanding our staff? It looks like business is booming. Mind introducing your lady friend here?¡± Chapter 22: The Interview Brakar locked the shop door as the last customer departed, flipping the wooden ¡°OPEN¡± sign to display ¡°CLOSED¡± to the street outside. Three days of managing the shop alone had left dark circles under his eyes, but they¡¯d survived the unexpected rush of customers. With the shop finally quiet, Brakar turned to face Naia and Thadan. The moth-folk woman was already tidying the display area. Thadan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching with an expression that was clearly his ¡°I¡¯m pretending to be a serious businessman¡± face. It wasn¡¯t entirely convincing, but at least he was trying. ¡°So,¡± Thadan said, clearing his throat. ¡°About the job offer...¡± ¡°The one made in panic during the rush?¡± Naia¡¯s voice carried a hint of amusement. ¡°Yes, I assumed we¡¯d need to discuss that properly.¡± Brakar felt his face heat up. ¡°I... may have been a bit hasty.¡± ¡°Completely understandable.¡± She adjusted her cloak. ¡°The situation called for immediate action.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Thadan pushed off from the wall, circling the desk. ¡°Well, technically, that was just a trial run. We have dozens of candidates lined up for the position.¡± Brakar barely managed to keep his expression neutral. They hadn¡¯t even discussed hiring anyone before today. ¡°Of course.¡± Naia nodded, her antennae dipping in acknowledgment. ¡°I would expect nothing less from an establishment of your... unique character.¡± The mimic-chair chose that moment to scoot a bit closer to her. Brakar shot it a warning look. ¡°Yes, well...¡± Thadan settled into his own chair¡ªa normal, non-living one¡ªand steepled his fingers. ¡°Tell me about yourself.¡± Really? Brakar thought. That¡¯s what we¡¯re starting with? But Naia didn¡¯t seem fazed by the clich¨¦ question. ¡°I spent several years managing my family¡¯s bakery,¡± she began, her tone measured and clear. ¡°While the business ultimately closed, the experience taught me valuable lessons about understanding customer needs versus stated wants.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Thadan tilted forward. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°People often come in asking for what they think they should want, rather than what would truly satisfy them. For instance, a customer might request an elaborate wedding cake because that¡¯s traditional, when what they really want is something that reminds them of childhood celebrations. The skill lies in hearing what isn¡¯t being said.¡± Brakar found himself nodding. He¡¯d noticed similar patterns with healing¡ªpatients often described symptoms they thought were important while missing crucial details. ¡°And how would that apply here?¡± he asked, curious. ¡°Your customers aren¡¯t just buying furniture.¡± Naia gestured to the shop around them. ¡°They¡¯re buying the promise of comfort, of status, of making their space feel like home. Understanding that distinction is crucial.¡± ¡°Interesting perspective.¡± Thadan was doing his best to maintain his facade, but Brakar could see enthusiasm leaking through. ¡°What would you say is your biggest weakness?¡± Another classic, Brakar thought. But he had to admit, he was curious about her answer. ¡°I tend to over-prepare,¡± Naia said after a moment¡¯s consideration. ¡°For instance, I spent yesterday evening researching your business, speaking with local merchants about the area¡¯s commercial patterns, and analyzing foot traffic during different hours.¡± Brakar blinked. ¡°You did what?¡± ¡°It¡¯s sometimes excessive,¡± she admitted. ¡°But I¡¯ve found it¡¯s better to have information and not need it, than need it and not have it.¡± ¡°And what did your research tell you?¡± Thadan asked, looking both impressed and unnerved. ¡°That you¡¯re new to the furniture business but not to working together. That you¡¯re operating on limited capital but have a unique product advantage. That your location, while not prime, benefits from steady pedestrian flow between the market district and residential areas. And, of course, the interesting rumors about your inventory¡¯s nature. However, I noticed that none of your customers today seemed disturbed. Which suggests either remarkable tolerance or selective observation on their part.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She adjusted her cloak again. ¡°I see many things. Including opportunities where others might see complications.¡± Thadan¡¯s serious facade cracked, replaced by his usual grin. ¡°Where do you see yourself in five years?¡± ¡°Professionally? Growing with a unique business that challenges conventional retail wisdom.¡± Her eyes sparkled with subtle humor. ¡°Personally? Perhaps mastering the art of perfect croissant lamination. It¡¯s a process that requires patience, precision, and accepting that some things are unpredictable.¡± ¡°Another question. Why should we hire you?¡± Naia straightened. ¡°Because I turned chaos into order within minutes of walking through your door. Because I understand both retail psychology and the value of discretion. Because I recognize what you¡¯re trying to accomplish here¡± She paused, then added with perfect timing: ¡°And because your chair seems to like me.¡± As if on cue, the mimic-chair slid back to its original position, managing to look simultaneously innocent and smug. Brakar couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°She has a point.¡± ¡°Several. One final question from me,¡± Thadan said, sounding serious. ¡°How do you feel about creative approaches to guild rules?¡± ¡°I think regulations should guide us rather than restrict us,¡± Naia answered without delay. ¡°If nobody gets hurt, there¡¯s often room for improvisation.¡± Brakar exhaled in quiet relief. They needed someone unfazed by their unconventional methods. ¡°So about this ¡®hiring notice¡¯ you saw...¡± ¡°Yes? The one posted near Bean Works coffee shop, by the community board.¡± ¡°We never posted any hiring notices.¡± ¡°Actually¡ª¡± Thadan raised his finger, which immediately told Brakar everything he needed to know. ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I might have left a few notices around town before heading to Brightkeep. Nothing fancy, just ¡®Help Wanted at Mimic & Co.¡¯ with our address.¡± ¡°Why would you do that? There was zero chance you knew we would get an influx of customers. Plus,¡± Brakar¡¯s mouth moved close to Thadan¡¯s ear. ¡°Can we afford an employee?¡± he whispered. ¡°It was a last-minute decision! And frankly, I didn¡¯t think anyone would respond.¡± ¡°Anyway, Naia, what about those numbered tokens you handed out? Where did they come from? I¡¯m certain we don¡¯t have anything like that in stock,¡± Brakar said, ignoring Thadan. Naia reached into a concealed pocket in her cloak and produced an elegant quill with colorful feathers that caught the light in unusual ways. ¡°This is how I managed the crowd. It¡¯s a manifestation quill.¡± ¡°A what now?¡± ¡°A small magical item. It allows me to materialize whatever I draw, within certain limitations.¡± She demonstrated with a quick stroke, and a small wooden token with the number ¡°1¡± appeared in her palm. ¡°I¡¯m not particularly powerful, so I can only create simple items. Tokens, small organizational tools, basic writing implements.¡± ¡°That¡¯s...¡± Thadan examined the quill. ¡°...incredibly useful for retail work.¡± ¡°Hence why I carry it. In my experience, the most valuable tools are those that solve immediate problems.¡± Brakar watched as she returned the quill to her pocket, noticing the dozens of organized compartments hidden throughout her clothing. It reminded him of Pockets¡¯ pockets. He wondered how she was doing. Thadan glanced at Brakar. ¡°Perhaps we should discuss your actual role here. In private. You know, make a decision.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± They moved toward the back of the shop, the mimic-chair scootching along behind them until Brakar gave it a stern look. ¡°Stay.¡± Once they¡¯d reached the relative privacy of the back room, Thadan closed the door. ¡°So. The chair has quite the personality.¡± ¡°That aside, what should we do with Naia?¡± Brakar asked. ¡°I think you know the answer,¡± Thadan replied. ¡°I expected a longer conversation between us,¡± Thadan replied. Both came back to the front room. Thadan dropped all pretense of formality. ¡°When can you start?¡± ¡°I believe I already did. Unless you¡¯d prefer to handle angry customers next time.¡± Naia produced a neat stack of papers. ¡°These are the orders I processed today, categorized by priority and feasibility. I¡¯ve also noted potential supply chain optimizations and drafted a customer communication template for managing expectations regarding delivery times.¡± Brakar stared at the documents, then at Naia, then at Thadan. It was obvious she didn¡¯t believe the part about them having dozens of candidates. Thadan smiled at Brakar. ¡°Haha... The woman¡¯s an extortionist. See? Told you she was perfect.¡± ¡°That remains to be seen.¡± Brakar wasn¡¯t convinced yet. Something about this seemed too convenient¡ªalmost like plot armor. ¡°What do you want from this position, Naia? Beyond a salary?¡± ¡°Honestly? A challenge. My family¡¯s bakery failed not because our products were inferior, but because we couldn¡¯t adapt to changing market conditions. I¡¯ve spent years analyzing that failure, understanding where we went wrong.¡± ¡°And you think furniture is the answer?¡± ¡°I think innovation is the answer. You¡¯re creating something unique¡ªfurniture, with personality, that genuinely responds to its owners. That¡¯s not just a product, it¡¯s a revolution in home comfort.¡± Thadan¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Exactly! That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been saying!¡± ¡°But revolutions need structure to succeed. Organization. Systems. The best sourdough still needs proper timing and temperature.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re offering to provide that structure?¡± ¡°I¡¯m offering my skills in a mutually beneficial arrangement. You have a remarkable concept but limited business experience. I have business experience but lacked a remarkable concept to apply it to.¡± ¡°Like flour waiting for water to become dough,¡± Thadan said, trying to make a baking metaphor. Naia¡¯s lips curved in a slight smile. ¡°More like yeast waiting for flour and water, but yes.¡± Chapter 23: Veil of Innocence A thick fog had settled over Ironweave¡¯s lower districts, turning the morning into a soup of gray shapes and muffled sounds. Perfect ambiance for a shop full of predatory furniture, Thadan thought with a wry smile as he stood at the shop¡¯s window, polishing the same spot he¡¯d been working on for the past ten minutes. The glass was already clean¡ªBrakar had seen to that earlier¡ªbut the repetitive motion gave him something to do while watching potential customers drift by like ghosts in the mist. Not a single customer had visited yet, though Thadan couldn¡¯t blame them. Even the most dedicated shoppers thought twice about venturing out in weather like this. Still, he had to admit the ambience had transformed Merchant¡¯s End into something almost mystical. The new brass bell above the door¡ªKip¡¯s latest addition to the shop¡ªcaught the weak sunlight filtering through the fog. Its presence made the storefront look more legitimate, more like a proper business and less like the suspicious operation it was. Thadan had to admit, having a bell that rang when customers entered was better than their previous system of relying on the mimic-chair to alert them by scootching excitedly across the floor. The smile faded as he caught the mimic-chair¡¯s subtle movement again. He¡¯d spent enough time around the creature to recognize its ¡°hunting posture¡±¡ªa small perceptible shift that made its outline somehow sharper, more focused. Like a cat spotting a mouse. ¡°No,¡± he said firmly, pointing at the chair. ¡°Stay.¡± The chair managed to look disappointed despite being, well, a chair. It then settled back into position. Part of him felt bad for the little guy. It had spent the last hour practicing subtle position adjustments. The creature seemed determined to perfect its ¡°suddenly appearing¡± routine, though its idea of stealth involved scooting a few inches at a time when it thought no one was looking. ¡°You know, that¡¯s not actually how surprise works,¡± Thadan said to the chair. ¡°And you¡¯re leaving marks on the floor.¡± The chair quickly lifted its legs, revealing small scuff marks on the wooden boards. It had the decency to look embarrassed with its small shakes and ripples. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Thadan waved dismissively. ¡°Gives the place character. Besides, what¡¯s a furniture shop without a few scratches here and there?¡± The mimic-chair perked up, apparently taking this as permission to continue its stealth practice. It immediately began an exaggerated tip-toe movement that made it look less like a piece of actual furniture and more like a cartoon character. ¡°That¡¯s... not better.¡± Before he could offer further critique on the chair¡¯s espionage techniques, the bell chimed. The sound was deeper than he expected, more resonant. Of course Kip would find a bell with perfect acoustics, he thought. Two figures emerged from the fog-clouded doorway, their outlines gradually sharpening as they prepared to cross the shop¡¯s threshold. A young woman stood¡ªor rather, leaned¡ªin the doorway, one hand gripping the frame with careful precision. Her clothing spoke of nobility, all fine fabrics and subtle embroidery, but it was her bearing that truly caught his attention. Every movement was measured, deliberate, as if each gesture had been calculated for maximum efficiency and minimum strain. Behind her came a tall, lean man whose bearing practically screamed ¡°butler.¡± Everything about him, from his impeccable posture to the way he hovered protectively near the woman¡¯s elbow, spoke of years of service and genuine care. Interesting, Thadan thought, already adjusting his sales approach. The wealthy were always welcome customers, but something about the woman¡¯s careful movements suggested this might be more than a simple transaction. The woman paused inside the doorway, her eyes adjusting to the interior light. She wore expensive but comfortable-looking clothing, the kind of outfit that prioritized both appearance and ease of movement. Her pale skin was almost translucent in the diffused morning light, and her naturally blonde hair fell past her shoulders in careful waves. The butler closed the door behind them, shutting out the fog and somehow making the simple action look like an art form. Thadan straightened his vest¡ªa habit he¡¯d picked up from watching Naia interact with customers¡ªand shot her a quick glance. ¡°I got this one,¡± he murmured with a wink, already stepping forward before she could protest. ¡°Welcome to Mimic & Co. How may I assist you today?¡± The woman¡¯s green eyes scanned the relatively empty showroom. ¡°I was under the impression this was a furniture store,¡± she said, her refined accent confirming Thadan¡¯s assessment of her social status. ¡°Though I appear to see very little furniture.¡± Her companion maintained a neutral expression, but Thadan caught the slight shift in his stance that suggested he was ready to guide her back out at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°Ah, you¡¯ve caught us at an interesting moment.¡± Thadan gestured expansively, channeling his best ¡®exclusive boutique¡¯ manner. ¡°We prefer to work closely with each client, ensuring every piece matches their needs. Mass-produced displays wouldn¡¯t do us justice¡± ¡°A custom approach?¡± She shifted slightly, and Thadan noticed how her butler¡¯s attention sharpened at that small movement. ¡°How does that work?¡± ¡°We start with a conversation about your space, your preferences, your lifestyle. Each piece tells a story.¡± The mimic-chair was executing a masterful flanking maneuver. ¡°In fact, I believe I have the perfect chair for you, my lady.¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. She turned¡ªcarefully, so carefully¡ªfollowing his gesture, and nearly started at the sight of the chair. Her companion¡¯s hand tightened on her arm, steadying her. ¡°I... where did that come from?¡± She blinked, confused. ¡°I don¡¯t recall seeing that chair a moment ago.¡± ¡°We pride ourselves on anticipating our customers¡¯ needs.¡± Thadan said invitingly, watching as the chair adjusted its shape. The back curved, the seat cushion reformed, and the arms shifted to provide optimal support. It was showing off, but in this case, that might work in their favor. Clever beast. ¡°Would you care to try it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure...¡± She hesitated, and Thadan saw how she leaned more heavily on her companion¡¯s support. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have rather specific needs when it comes to seating. Most furniture is... problematic.¡± ¡°Ah, but this isn¡¯t most furniture.¡± Thadan watched as the chair made another minute adjustment, its surface reshaping itself to better accommodate what it had observed of her posture. ¡°In fact, I¡¯m so confident in its suitability that I¡¯m willing to make you an offer.¡± The butler¡¯s eyebrow raised¡ªthe first real expression Thadan had seen from him. ¡°An offer?¡± The woman¡¯s tone suggested she was used to being offered things, not all of them welcome. ¡°Indeed.¡± Thadan grinned, warming to his theme. ¡°If this chair isn¡¯t perfectly comfortable¡ªif it doesn¡¯t provide the support you need¡ªyou can have the entire shop.¡± ¡°The entire shop?¡± Now both of the butler¡¯s eyebrows were raised. ¡°Indeed.¡± Thadan grinned, watching the mimic make one final adjustment. ¡°But if it is perfect...¡± ¡°I purchase the chair?¡± A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. ¡°That seems hardly fair odds.¡± ¡°Sir,¡± her companion spoke for the first time, ¡°perhaps we should¡ª¡± ¡°Life rarely deals in fair odds, my lady.¡± Thadan bowed. ¡°But sometimes it offers pleasant surprises.¡± She giggled¡ªa sound that surprised her as much as anyone else. ¡°Very well. I accept your challenge.¡± The butler moved forward to assist her, but she waved him back. ¡°No, Edwin. Let¡¯s see if our bold merchant¡¯s confidence is warranted.¡± Edwin. Thadan filed the name away and bowed with a flourish, gesturing toward the chair. ¡°Then please, my lady, have a seat.¡± ¡°I should warn you,¡± she said, pausing before sitting, ¡°I was born with a rather uncooperative body. Furniture and I have a rather adversarial relationship.¡± ¡°Then perhaps it¡¯s time for a more accommodating partnership.¡± She lowered herself slowly. The mimic made more subtle changes, the angle of the back, the curve of the seat, the height of the armrests. By the time Caroline began to lower herself into it, the chair had become a perfect match for her form. The moment she settled into the seat, her expression changed. The tension she¡¯d been carrying in her shoulders melted away. Her eyes widened, then drifted closed as she leaned back. ¡°Oh,¡± she breathed. ¡°Oh.¡± The mimic remained still, but Thadan could sense its attention¡ªlike a master craftsman waiting for the perfect moment to make that final crucial adjustment. And when she completely let go, the change was immediate and dramatic. The rigid set of her shoulders softened, her spine finding perfect support as the chair adjusted itself with microscopic precision. Her eyes widened, then closed in obvious relief. A small, involuntary moan escaped her lips, followed by a gasp that made Edwin¡¯s ears redden. ¡°Mmm... yes, right there.¡± ¡°My lady?¡± Edwin stepped forward. ¡°I take it the chair meets with your approval?¡± Thadan asked, ¡°It¡¯s... perfect.¡± She opened her eyes, wonder replacing her usual careful composure. ¡°How is this possible? It¡¯s as if it knows where I need support.¡± ¡°This is remarkable. How did you...¡± She shifted again, and the chair adjusted with her. ¡°I¡¯ve never experienced anything like it. This isn¡¯t ordinary furniture, is it?¡±¡± ¡°Nothing about Mimic & Co. is ordinary, my lady. Now, about that wager...¡± ¡°Seems you¡¯ve won, sir. Though I feel I¡¯m the real winner here. I¡¯ve never...¡± She paused, emotion briefly overtaking her refined manner. ¡°I¡¯ve never sat anywhere so comfortable.¡± ¡°Then allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Lady...?¡± Thadan let the question hang. ¡°Caroline,¡± she supplied, still marveling at the chair¡¯s comfort. ¡°And this is Edwin, without whom I¡¯d have fallen down three times just getting here.¡± Edwin inclined his head. ¡°My lady is too kind.¡± ¡°A pleasure to meet you both properly.¡± Thadan bowed again, this time with genuine respect rather than showmanship. ¡°I¡¯m Thadan Ginedras, co-proprietor of Mimic & Co., purveyors of the finest adaptive furniture in Ironweave.¡± ¡°Adaptive.¡± The woman laughed¡ªa real laugh this time, not the polite titter of nobility. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what it feels like. As if it¡¯s adapting to me specifically.¡± She ran her hand along the armrest, and Thadan could have sworn the mimic preened under her touch. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d consider selling the shop instead of the chair? I have a feeling this is the beginning of something fascinating.¡± ¡°Sorry, not for sale. But the chair could be yours. 1 gold¡± The butler¡¯s face contorted for a split-second. ¡°Done.¡± She didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Though I hope you realize this means I¡¯ll be back for more.¡± ¡°We look forward to it, Miss Caroline. And when would you like us to deliver it?¡± Thadan asked. Caroline finally stood, moving with more ease than she had when entering. ¡°Today, if possible. I find myself reluctant to part with it.¡± ¡°We can arrange that.¡± He moved back behind the desk, pulling out the special contracts Naia had prepared for their more... unique pieces. ¡°Though I should mention a few special care instructions.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Nothing too complicated. You only need to feed the chair a potion once a month. It¡¯s a mimic, after all.¡± The butler blinked, taken aback. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ªit¡¯s what?¡± Caroline paused, glancing at the chair beneath her. Her brows lifted, lips parting in mild shock. Her surprise softened into reluctant admiration. ¡°Well... I can¡¯t argue with the results.¡± She picked up the pen and signed the contract, her handwriting as elegant as her bearing. ¡°There.¡± As Edwin helped Caroline to her feet (though she seemed to need less assistance than before), Thadan couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this sale marked a turning point for their fledgling business. They¡¯d just sold a mimic to nobility¡ªand not just any noble, but one who appeared to understand there was more to their furniture than met the eye. The bell chimed again as they departed, Caroline already making plans for where to place her new acquisition. The last thing Thadan heard before the door closed was her asking Edwin if he thought the library would be suitable, or if perhaps her private study would be better. Through the window, he watched their figures fade into the fog. Thadan turned back to his desk, already planning how to explain this development to Brakar. His partner would probably have concerns about selling to nobility¡ªbigger profiles meant bigger risks. But he couldn¡¯t help but smile. Their little shop was growing, evolving in ways he hadn¡¯t anticipated. And somehow, that made it even better. Interlude 2: The Dark Dame The Colossus towered in the room, one half built of copper, the other covered in broken parts, a machine designed to destroy. There was no way to block the flying debris, no way to escape its attacks. Metal banged and echoed, walls trembled and creaked, pieces shot everywhere. Rytha crept along the edge of the floor, trying to stay quick. She was smaller, but faster, smarter. At least she believed so. She needed to be, or she was finished. Keep shifting, sliding, vanishing, stay clear and find a chance. Most important, don¡¯t get hit. Avoiding hits came first. The Colossus flung a spear without warning, copper flashing in the dark. Rytha slipped into her shadow and popped out on the other side of the room, but the spear still nicked her arm and struck her ribs, knocking her off balance. So much for avoiding hits. A wave, and not a slow one, spread toward her. She jumped back, heart pounding. She slipped on the floor, almost fell face-first, caught herself just in time, and rolled aside as the giant¡¯s metal arm slammed down, copper splashing where she had been a moment before. The shadowpriest scrambled to her feet and spotted the sludge creeping toward her again. She slid away from it, raised her hands, and formed bars of shadow that pushed her upward. The dark cage lifted her above the spreading liquid like a platform rising from the ground. The thick ooze should have slowed down, stopped moving, but it kept flowing like nothing changed. Still, if one plan doesn¡¯t work, you try another. Rytha gritted her teeth and forced the cage higher. The bars shook under the strain, holding just long enough. It smashed down with that heavy arm and glanced off, missing her, slamming into the floor and sending shards flying. "Tch!" The Colossus''s hammer-like limb swung low, caught her side, and knocked her backward, forcing the air from her lungs before she could gasp. The creature had already shifted, raising another arm, metal twisted into a giant club. Rytha jumped aside, rolled across the cracked ground, and felt the rush of air as the massive limb swept past. It smashed into the spot she''d just left, shattered the stone floor, and sent debris flying in every direction. The hit could''ve flattened her. No time to stall. Rytha crouched, dragged shadows into her palm, and shaped them into a blade, her mind racing for a plan. The mechanical behemoth twisted toward her and swung again. She slashed upward, cutting through its arm. No blood poured out¡ªjust half-formed copies spilling from the wound, scrambling to get away. Behind her, debris clattered as loose metal scraped along the ground. The scattered machines around her rattled and shifted, dragged toward the Colossus with steady pulls. The creature stepped forward, slow and steady, and Rytha edged back, chest tight. ¡°Of course it can,¡± she muttered. But how to break through¡ªit wasn¡¯t clear. Her pulse pounded with dread and focus. Her fingers twitched, nerves on edge, every part of her body tense. Her mouth moved with quiet words, pointless advice muttered to herself. Think, think, think. Around the edges of the chamber, remnants of the battle trembled under the monster¡¯s pull. Shattered walls groaned as loose panels wrenched free, spinning into the magnetic field forming around the creature. Dust and debris swirled through the air, making it hard to see. The floor shook with each step the Colossus took, forcing Rytha to adjust her stance as the terrain buckled beneath her. Her eyes darted to the surrounding wreckage. The torn cables. The twisted metal. All of it moved with the Copper titan, orbiting it like a protective barrier. Getting close will be a nightmare, she thought. Her breath came faster. Every move she made, every step forward, was answered with the Colossus countering her position, the spinning debris shielding its core. The space between them seemed to shrink and stretch at the same time, the tension so thick it felt like the air might snap. Rytha teeth ground together. The world seemed to sway, every motion measured, every heartbeat loud in her ears. Even with Vess and Pez watching, they might as well not exist¡ªjust her, the Colossus, and the fight. And almost always, so far, the one pushing forward was Rytha. Normally quick and light, she now seemed heavier, her skin shifting to metallic shades as she drew in energy from the room. The change felt strange even to her¡ªsomething that went beyond her usual abilities. Dark spheres formed in her hands, pulling shadows from every corner until they hovered around her like dark planets. This wasn''t just a trick. It was something more, something that sent a chill down her spine even as she controlled it. Each orb spun with weight and purpose, the power in them humming through her bones. Rytha locked her muscles tight and stepped toward the Colossus, energy pulsing around her. The creature adjusted, raising an arm to block, metal twisting into a spinning shield. But the first orb shot forward and carved out a perfect hole in its side, erasing everything it touched. She didn¡¯t hesitate. Another orb followed, slicing through the metal goliath¡¯s arm and leaving a void where metal had been. The creature reeled back, but the shadowpriest pressed on. Her eyes locked onto her target, face set and steady. Every breath came sharp, every movement precise. The gravity of the room¡ªthe fight¡ªpressed in on her, but she didn¡¯t slow. Not now. Not when she was this close. ¡°Yes!¡± hissed Rytha, her party shouting in shock. The next attack slammed into the Colossus¡¯s shifting body, leaving a glowing red gash and sending molten metal splattering across the floor. The last strike dug into its core, sending pieces flying and forcing it to stagger. Her breath caught as the heat rolled over her. The titan swelled, pulling copper from the walls, its frame stretching, reshaping, burning brighter. The heat pulsed outward, forcing her to step back, her skin prickling with pain. Then she noticed it. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The air near the creature rippled like waves, distorting everything around it. She moved, but her form flickered, her steps thrown off by the shifting light. All she could think about was whether she could still fight, whether she could still land a hit. She clenched her jaw, fists tight, bracing herself to keep steady against the growing heat. She reached for her shadows as the Colossus pulled its massive form upright. The light burst out, flooding the room, wiping away every dark corner just as her foot slid back, just as its arm whipped forward and sent her crashing into the wall. Rytha pushed herself up, instantly regretting her split-second hesitation. Her gaze darted around the chamber, searching for anything to use, but everyone¡¯s attention stayed locked on the fight. The move now seemed like a small, reckless attempt that wouldn¡¯t change anything. Except for getting her trapped, of course. She knew what happened when you slipped up in a fight like this¡ªthere were no second chances. ¡°Tch!¡± Rytha twisted away from the tendrils, shifted to her right as one lashed past her face, rolled to her left as another whipped at her again, and skidded, nearly losing her footing. Any one of those could have pinned her for good. She watched the light pulse again and her face hardened as she stepped aside from another of the Colossus¡¯s massive strikes, already pulling darkness into her hands. The shadows flowed smoothly over her skin, covering her as she absorbed the light itself, turning pitch black from head to toe. ¡°The darkness technique again?¡± Vess¡¯s amber eyes narrowed beneath her silver-white braid as she gripped her bow tighter. ¡°Last time you used that, you couldn¡¯t see straight for three days.¡± Rytha pulled air into her lungs and lifted her arms, preparing for one final move. The Colossus''s gaze shifted toward her now darkened form. It tilted its head just as the last flickers of light vanished, swallowed by the growing darkness. Her body vanished into the black, leaving only her eyes, glowing with stolen light. The giant swung blindly, metal limbs crashing into empty air, smashing into the wall, sending debris across the chamber. Rytha stood still as the room darkened completely. Her chest tightened with the effort, her head pounding from the strain. She blinked hard, holding her focus¡ªand stopped moving. If I die fighting a glorified scrap heap for Thadan¡¯s furniture store, I swear I¡¯ll haunt him for eternity. The Colossus shifted in place, sensors scanning the black void, and rotated its head slowly. It reached out toward the empty space, turned left, then right, and stopped. The darkness stayed solid, swallowing sound and light alike. The spinning metal plates along its arms adjusted, clicking into place, while the air grew thick with tension. Then movement flickered¡ªa blur too fast to track¡ªcutting through the darkness. The creature''s body shuddered as a section of its side vanished, torn away by something unseen. Its systems recalculated, arms sweeping through empty space. Another flash¡ªsharp and quick¡ªstripped away part of its shoulder, sending fragments scattering. Silence followed. Then more movement, everywhere at once, like whispers pressing in from every side. Its sensors glitched, readings scrambled. The earth crumbled under its feet as something carved another piece free. The Colossus tried to react, tried to lock onto a target¡ªbut there was nothing to see. Just darkness. Moving. Cutting. Closer. It showed no hint of slowing, even with its body torn and sections missing. Chunks of copper and shattered machinery littered the ground, but it stood tall, unwavering. There wasn''t so much as a flicker of panic in its shifting form. Not so much as a pause in its pulsing core, which glowed brighter with each passing second. Rytha felt the burden of combat crushing down on her again¡ªher muscles burned, lungs tight, legs aching¡ªbut her focus held. She understood now how prey felt when trapped, heart pounding, every instinct screaming to run. She could''ve pulled back. Could''ve turned, walked away, and left the fight behind. But instead, she chose this. Say one thing for Rytha¡ªsay she never backs down, even when logic says she should. The Colossus''s face rearranged into a jagged grin, metal grinding as it reformed its features. ¡°Try,¡± it said, voice low and distorted, echoing through the chamber like a challenge carved in stone. The glow in its core flared, heat rolling off in waves that blurred the air between them, but the Cobalt-ranked adventurer didn¡¯t flinch. Her hands tightened into fists, jaw set. She wasn¡¯t done yet. Not by a long shot. And then it happened. Rytha needed to pee as she stood in the center of the cavernous space. Always needed to pee after fights like this. Her skin was shifting back to normal, patches of shadow fading slow enough to itch. The torn cloak still hung over her shoulder, covering the scratches across her shirt. Her gloves were stained from the fight, fingertips dark with grime. The freed mimics huddled in front of her, seven in total, bodies quivering, eyes darting. One was bigger than the rest¡ªthicker limbs, tougher shell¡ªits weight shifting like it still wanted to fight. Looked like it''d sell well, if she was right. Felt like a lucky kind of haul, assuming her instincts held true. There were a dozen things that could¡¯ve gone wrong since the battle started. But there wasn¡¯t time for regrets. Count them up, check for damage, and move on. That was the plan. The chamber walls creaked, heat still lingering in the air as she wiped sweat from her brow. Her gaze settled on the biggest mimic. ¡°You¡¯ll do,¡± she said. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± She frowned as she reached into the monster¡¯s core. ¡°Caught it lodged in there.¡± The shadowpriest pulled out a small crystal that glowed faintly in her palm. She glanced at the mimics, still huddled together, twitching but too weak to run. ¡°Rytha, don¡¯t touch that crystal,¡± Vess said. ¡°Something with that much power inside a Colossus is definitely cursed.¡± ¡°Stay put,¡± she added, slipping the crystal into her pocket. No point in making a fuss about it now. Her eyes shifted back to the dungeon walls, heat still radiating from the earlier fight. ¡°Figures there¡¯d be something extra,¡± she said under her breath. The crystal pulsed once, deliberate in its rhythm like a heartbeat underwater. She ignored it, focusing on tying up the largest mimic. ¡°You¡¯ll fetch a good price,¡± she muttered. Her hands moved fast, securing the ropes, tightening knots. The mimic shuddered but didn¡¯t resist. The air smelled of metal and ash. She stood, wiped her hands on her pants, and glanced at the pocket where the crystal rested. No time to think about it now. ¡°Seven mimics for the price of one Colossus? Not bad, though that big one¡¯s gonna be hell to transport through the narrow passages.¡± Vess surveyed the collection of quivering mimics, her brow furrowing. ¡°You¡¯re not seriously planning to drag all of these back to the city, are you? We¡¯ve already got two huge ones in the cart.¡± ¡°And spatial storage is nearly maxed out,¡± Pez added, wiping grime from his beard. ¡°Those tunnels back are tight enough without hauling extra cargo.¡± ¡°Leave the thovenite¡ªit¡¯s worthless compared to what Thadan needs. He wants mimics. I¡¯ll give him every single one we can carry.¡± Turning away, she left the chamber behind, the glow still flickering faintly under her jacket. Chapter 24: The Alchemist [Part 1] Brakar¡¯s fingers traced the spines of three identical leather-bound tomes, trying to spot any difference between them. Each bore the gilded title ¡°Furnishings of the Eastern Kingdoms¡± and had precisely the same weight and dimensions. He glanced at the mimic-bookcase behind his desk, which showcased rows of books in neat order. ¡°Can you maaake¡­ all threeee¡­ loooook¡­ slightlyyy diiifferennnt?¡± The bookcase trembled. One book¡¯s spine darkened to a deeper brown, another developed a slight gold trim, and the third grew thinner. ¡°Perfect.¡± He¡¯d spent the afternoon organizing their new showroom display. The mimic transformations had become almost routine now¡ªhis magical ¡°accent¡± still made the process exhausting, but he¡¯d developed efficient shortcuts. The bookcase had proven cooperative, seeming to enjoy the intellectual challenge of presenting itself as a varied collection. The bell above the door jangled as the evening¡¯s first shadows crept across the floor. ¡°Brak! You still here?¡± Thadan¡¯s voice boomed through the shop. Brakar sighed, setting down his inventory ledger. ¡°Where else would I be?¡± Footsteps approached¡ªmore than one set. Brakar stiffened. Thadan bringing unexpected visitors usually meant trouble. ¡°Got someone for you to meet,¡± Thadan announced, rounding the corner with a lanky figure trailing behind him. The man who followed Thadan appeared as if he¡¯d been assembled from spare parts in a university laboratory. Tall and painfully thin with gray hair that stuck out at odd angles, he had the harried look of someone interrupted mid-thought. His clothes might have formerly appeared fine¡ªthe collar of his shirt suggested quality fabric¡ªbut burn marks mottled the sleeves, and various stains formed an abstract map across his vest. Wire-rimmed spectacles sat askew on his nose, and his hazel eyes darted around the room, cataloging everything with intense focus. Naia emerged from the back room, her antennae twitching with interest at the newcomer. ¡°This is Miles Hartwick,¡± Thadan said, clapping the thin man on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward. ¡°Academic genius, alchemical wizard, and our newest volunteer.¡± ¡°Volunteer?¡± Brakar echoed. ¡°I prefer the term ¡®independent researcher with mutually beneficial arrangement,¡¯¡± Miles corrected, his voice deeper and steadier than one might expect for someone who looked like a strong breeze might carry him away. ¡°And I¡¯m very interested in your feeding formula.¡± Brakar and Naia exchanged glances. ¡°I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ve had the pleasure,¡± Naia said, extending her hand. ¡°Naia Elshara, showroom manager.¡± Miles stared at her hand for a beat too long before shaking it with a strong grip. ¡°Fascinating pigmentation in your wing scales. Completely natural?¡± ¡°Yes...¡± Naia withdrew her hand. ¡°Miles is going to help us improve our mimic formula,¡± Thadan explained, rocking back on his heels with unmistakable pride. ¡°Make it more efficient, longer-lasting, maybe even add some special features.¡± ¡°Special features?¡± Brakar frowned. ¡°They¡¯re already furniture that tries to eat people now and then. What more could they need?¡± Miles¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Oh, the possibilities are endless! Color-changing properties, temperature regulation, texture variations¡ª¡± ¡°And it won¡¯t cost us a copper,¡± Thadan added, grinning. Brakar narrowed his eyes. ¡°Why would you volunteer to help us for free?¡± Miles turned his intense gaze back to Brakar. ¡°Access to multiple viable mimics in a controlled environment. Do you have any idea how rare that is? Most research facilities have one, maybe two specimens, damaged from capture. You have multiple transformed specimens in this room alone, all stable. The academic papers I could produce will secure my position at the university for years.¡± ¡°Papers?¡± Brakar¡¯s stomach tightened. ¡°You plan to publish information about our business?¡± ¡°With appropriate anonymization, of course,¡± Miles assured him, though his tone suggested this was an inconvenient detail. ¡°The commercial applications would remain proprietary.¡± Naia stepped forward, her wings folded against her back in what Brakar had learned was her negotiation posture. ¡°Perhaps we should discuss the specific parameters of this arrangement before proceeding.¡± ¡°Absolutely,¡± he agreed. ¡°Though I should mention that my current research is at a critical juncture. The sooner I can begin observations, the better.¡± Thadan clapped his hands together. ¡°Why don¡¯t we give Miles the tour first? Show him what he¡¯ll be working with.¡± Brakar caught Thadan¡¯s arm as he moved to lead Miles deeper into the shop. ¡°Where exactly did you two meet?¡± he asked in a low voice. ¡°Tell you later,¡± Thadan whispered, patting Brakar¡¯s shoulder. Then, louder: ¡°Miles, let me show you our pride and joy¡ªthe mimic-sofa. It¡¯s a real beauty, used to be a weapon rack that almost killed us.¡± As Thadan led Miles away, Naia sidled up to Brakar. ¡°Do we trust him?¡± she murmured. Brakar watched as Miles crouched to examine the sofa, pulling a small notebook from his pocket and scribbling notes. ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. But Thadan¡¯s schemes often work out... in the end.¡± ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s not just crazy?¡± They followed the pair through the showroom, which had transformed in the past weeks. What had once been an empty, dusty space now displayed an impressive array of mimic-furniture: chairs in various styles, side tables, ottomans, a writing desk, bookshelves, and even a few decorative items like vases and wall sconces. Each piece maintained perfect form, though Brakar sometimes caught subtle movements¡ªa chair adjusting its height as someone approached, a table smoothing its surface, a vase shifting its color to better complement nearby pieces. ¡°Remarkable consistency in the transformations,¡± Miles observed, pausing to inspect a dining chair. ¡°How often do you feed them?¡± ¡°Once a month,¡± Brakar answered. ¡°And you¡¯re using a standard suppression formula?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Thadan¡¯s own recipe,¡± Brakar replied, unable to keep a note of pride from his voice. Their business might have started as a desperate gamble, but Thadan¡¯s feeding formula had been a true innovation. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Thadan puffed up his chest. ¡°Modified from standard healing potions. The trick is diluting it just right and adding a bit of ground quartz.¡± Miles looked skeptical. ¡°Quartz? That¡¯s... unorthodox.¡± ¡°Works, though,¡± Thadan insisted. ¡°And where are you sourcing your mimics?¡± Miles asked, adjusting his glasses. ¡°I assume you¡¯re not hunting them yourselves anymore.¡± Brakar tensed. The question probed too close to their arrangement with Rytha, which remained delicate. ¡°We have an arrangement with an adventurer,¡± he said carefully. ¡°One I still owe a night of passionate scholarly discussion,¡± Thadan added with a wink. Brakar shot him a look. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re calling it now?¡± Thadan grinned unrepentantly. ¡°When you¡¯ve got my level of charisma, Brak, everything becomes scholarly.¡± They continued to the back room, where several unmolded mimics waited in reinforced cages¡ªa recent addition after one bold specimen had attempted to squeeze through the bars. These raw mimics resembled amorphous masses of gelatinous flesh, pulsing in slow waves and sometimes extending pseudopods to test their confines. Miles approached the cages with undisguised fascination, pulling a magnifying glass from his pocket to examine one in detail. ¡°Extraordinary,¡± he breathed. ¡°This one appears to be developing rudimentary ocular structures. How long have you had it?¡± ¡°Three days,¡± Brakar answered, surprised by the observation. He hadn¡¯t noticed the small, eye-like formations developing along the mimic¡¯s surface. ¡°Is that normal?¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± Miles replied, excitement evident in his voice. ¡°Mimics often develop specialized sensory organs after bonding to a specific form. This suggests an accelerated adaptation process.¡± He straightened up, tucking the magnifying glass away. ¡°I¡¯d very much like to take some samples, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°Samples?¡± Brakar scowled. ¡°Just small tissue collections,¡± Miles assured him. ¡°Nothing that would harm the specimens or affect their transformation capabilities.¡± Thadan smacked his hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s show him the formula first! Save the slicing and dicing for later.¡± He led them to a small workbench in the corner where several bottles of murky liquid sat in neat rows. Picking one up, he handed it to Miles. Miles uncorked the bottle and sniffed with caution, his nose wrinkling. ¡°Interesting. You¡¯re using a healing potion base?¡± ¡°Minor regeneration,¡± Thadan confirmed. ¡°Watered down to about a third strength, mixed with ground quartz, like I said. And a tiny bit of dried nightshade.¡± ¡°Nightshade?¡± Miles looked alarmed. ¡°That stuff is toxic.¡± ¡°Just a pinch,¡± Thadan said, raising his hands. ¡°Mimics love the stuff. Keeps them happy.¡± Miles recorked the bottle with a thoughtful expression. ¡°It¡¯s indeed... creative. But I suspect I could develop something better, with fewer potential side effects.¡± ¡°Side effects?¡± Brakar asked, concern creeping into his voice. ¡°Nothing urgent, but nightshade can build up in organic systems over time. In the long run, it might affect the mimics¡¯ transformation stability.¡± Thadan¡¯s face fell. ¡°So my formula¡¯s no good?¡± ¡°It¡¯s quite effective for someone without formal alchemical training,¡± Miles said, in what was meant to be a compliment but came across as condescending. ¡°But it¡¯s the equivalent of feeding your mimics cheap tavern scraps instead of a proper meal. Functional, but not optimal.¡± ¡°And you could improve it?¡± Naia asked¡­ Miles straightened his glasses. ¡°With proper equipment and ingredients, I could develop a formula that would extend transformation periods, improve stability, and possibly even enhance certain desired characteristics. The applications are limited only by our understanding of mimic physiology¡ªwhich I intend to expand in depth.¡± Brakar had to admit, the possibilities were intriguing. Their business had grown at a fast pace, but they faced increasing competition from conventional furniture makers who¡¯d begun to notice their success. Enhanced features could give them a significant advantage. ¡°We could set you up in the cellar,¡± Brakar suggested, surprising himself with the offer. ¡°Perfect! I can begin immediately.¡± He patted a leather satchel slung across his shoulder. ¡°I brought some basic equipment.¡± As Miles disappeared down the trapdoor, Brakar pulled Thadan aside. ¡°Alright, out with it. Where did you find him, and what¡¯s the catch?¡± Thadan¡¯s face split into a grin. He glanced around to ensure Miles was out of earshot, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°You know how we¡¯ve been talking about improving the formula, but neither of us knows enough about alchemy?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well, I asked around. Asked Ms. Thornberry if she knew any experts in meta... meta-chronal...¡± ¡°Metachronal transmutation alchemy?¡± Brakar supplied, impressed that Thadan had even attempted the term. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Thadan snapped his fingers. ¡°Turns out, Thornberry knows everyone. Her sister-in-law¡¯s cousin owns a tavern near the university where Professor Willowick¡¯s chambermaid attends a knitting circle.¡± Brakar pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Of course she does.¡± ¡°And this chambermaid cleans the lab where Miles works,¡± Thadan continued, evidently pleased with himself. ¡°So Thornberry gave me instructions about bribing the chambermaid¡¯s daughter¡ªwho delivers Miles¡¯s meals¡ªto ¡®accidentally¡¯ leave his door unlocked during a delivery.¡± ¡°You bribed someone to help you break into a professor¡¯s laboratory?¡± Brakar hissed. ¡°Not break in,¡± Thadan corrected, looking offended. ¡°I knocked, in the end. After I was already inside.¡± ¡°Thadan...¡± ¡°The point is,¡± Thadan pressed on, ¡°I got to explain our situation to him. And he got super excited! Started talking about research opportunities and academic prestige. It seems having access to multiple mimics is a big deal in academic circles.¡± ¡°And he agreed to help us for free?¡± Brakar remained skeptical. Thadan shrugged. ¡°Not free. He gets to write papers about it. But we get improved formulas and don¡¯t have to pay him a salary. Win-win.¡± ¡°Unless his research reveals something about mimics that hurts our business,¡± Brakar pointed out. ¡°Always seeing the dark lining in the silver cloud, aren¡¯t you, Brak?¡± Thadan sighed. ¡°Look, the guy¡¯s a genius. His laboratory had all these bubbling things and glowing potions. And he¡¯s published in the Arcane Quarterly. That¡¯s the fancy journal with the gold lettering.¡± ¡°I know what the Arcane Quarterly is,¡± Brakar muttered. He¡¯d spent enough time in libraries to recognize the most prestigious magical journal in the region, though its subscription costs had always been well beyond his means. Naia joined them, her expression thoughtful. ¡°He seems quite enthusiastic about the research opportunity. And his credentials appear legitimate, from what I can tell.¡± ¡°See?¡± Thadan gestured with a triumphant wave. ¡°Naia agrees with me.¡± ¡°I said his enthusiasm seems genuine,¡± Naia clarified. ¡°I still think we should establish clear boundaries about what he can and cannot publish.¡± A loud clatter from the cellar interrupted their discussion. Miles had begun setting up an impressive array of equipment from his bottomless satchel. Glass vials, small brass instruments, and a collapsible stand with an adjustable arm now occupied the central space. He was trying to hang a small copper kettle from the stand, which appeared to be the source of the noise. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he called up, noticing them peering down. ¡°Just getting the basic distillation apparatus set up. This space is perfect¡ªthe stone walls will help maintain consistent temperatures.¡± ¡°Need any help?¡± Thadan offered. ¡°No, no, I¡¯ve got it,¡± Miles assured them, as he secured the kettle in place. ¡°I¡¯ll have an initial formula ready for testing within a week, I should think. Sooner if these specimens are as responsive as they appear.¡± Brakar watched as Miles continued unpacking his equipment. Despite his skepticism, he found himself impressed by the man¡¯s obvious expertise. Perhaps Thadan¡¯s impulsive recruitment would prove beneficial after all. ¡°We should let him work,¡± Naia suggested. ¡°It¡¯s getting late, and we have customers coming to view the new dining set tomorrow morning.¡± Thadan nodded. ¡°Right. Miles, we¡¯re heading out. Lock up when you¡¯re done?¡± Miles looked up, blinking as if he¡¯d forgotten they were there. ¡°Hmm? Oh, yes. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll secure everything. I just want to take a few baseline measurements before I leave.¡± As they climbed the stairs from the shop into the cooling evening air, Brakar found himself wondering about their newest associate. Miles Hartwick knew his craft, but something about his intensity made Brakar uneasy. Or perhaps it was that Thadan¡¯s schemes never proceeded without complications. ¡°You think this is a good idea?¡± he asked Thadan as they locked the shop door. Thadan slung an arm around Brakar¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Look, worst case, he makes some useless potions and writes a boring paper. Best case, he revolutionizes our mimic feed and we sell furniture that glows in the dark or keeps your tea warm. Where¡¯s the downside?¡± ¡°The downside is often where we least expect it,¡± Brakar grumbled. ¡°Such a pessimist,¡± Thadan chuckled. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get dinner at Six Spoons. I¡¯m starving, and Kip mentioned they¡¯re serving that spiced lamb stew you like tonight.¡± Chapter 25: The Alchemist [Part 2] Three days later, Brakar arrived at the shop to find Miles in the cellar, surrounded by an even more elaborate setup of equipment. Dark circles under the alchemist¡¯s eyes suggested he hadn¡¯t slept much, if at all. ¡°Have you been here all night?¡± Brakar asked, setting down a basket of fresh bread he¡¯d brought from the bakery on his way in. Miles looked up from a bubbling mixture, his hair more disheveled than usual. ¡°Is it morning? I lost track of time. The initial tests have been fascinating.¡± Brakar peered at the workbench, where several vials of assorted liquids sat in neat rows. ¡°Any progress on the mixture?¡± ¡°The quartz Thadan used is brilliant¡ªit provides a crystalline structure that mimics can bond with for a short period. I also replaced the nightshade with a mixture of aetherium salts, dissolved mithracyte, and trace amounts of alkahest-stabilized quicksilver.¡± Hartwick continued, his tone steady and focused. ¡°Aetherium salts help with energy conductivity. They¡¯re excellent at transferring magical resonance through solid matter, which strengthens the bond between the mimic and the quartz¡ªat least temporarily. Dissolved mithracyte acts as a lattice binder. The quartz already has a crystalline structure, but mithracyte reinforces it, preventing fractures under stress. It¡¯s like rebar in concrete¡ªkeeping everything stable so the mimic doesn¡¯t reject the bond.¡± Brakar, who had been listening closely, nodded. ¡°Oh, I see. Then the alkahest-stabilized quicksilver must keep the mixture adaptable. The alkahest prevents the quicksilver from breaking down too fast while still allowing it to shift between states as needed. That way, the mimic gets a structure it can interact with, but once the reaction fades, everything settles back without damage.¡± Hartwick smirked. ¡°I¡¯m glad you get it.¡± He handed Brakar the vial. ¡°This is a prototype. Much more efficient, non-toxic, and should extend transformation periods by at least fifty percent.¡± Brakar examined the vial with doubt. ¡°This in only three days?¡± ¡°When you¡¯re passionate and have the proper equipment, progress can be rapid,¡± Miles said, a hint of pride in his voice. ¡°I¡¯ve been studying monsters for years, but never had access to this many specimens in a controlled environment.¡± Naia arrived, bringing with her the scent of fresh tea. ¡°Good morning, gentlemen. Any breakthroughs to report?¡± ¡°Miles has created a new formula,¡± Brakar informed her, holding up the vial. ¡°Already?¡± Naia¡¯s antennae perked up with interest. ¡°That was quick.¡± ¡°It still needs testing,¡± Miles cautioned. ¡°I¡¯d like to try it on one of the smaller, recent mimics first. Something expendable, in case there are unforeseen reactions.¡± ¡°Nothing here is expendable,¡± Brakar said with finality. ¡°These mimics are our livelihood.¡± Hartwick held up his hands. ¡°Poor choice of words. I meant something acquired not long ago that hasn¡¯t been assigned a permanent form or designated for sale.¡± Naia nodded, considering. ¡°We do have that small one that came in with the last batch¡ªthe one that keeps shifting between bowl and plate forms.¡± ¡°That would be perfect,¡± Miles agreed. ¡°Small, quite simple transformation requirements, and no immediate commercial value.¡± Brakar still felt uneasy. ¡°And you¡¯re sure this won¡¯t harm it?¡± ¡°As sure as one can be without actual testing,¡± Miles replied with sincerity. ¡°The theory is sound, and I¡¯ve run several simulations using samples from the larger specimens.¡± Brakar exchanged a glance with Naia, who gave a slight nod. ¡°Alright,¡± he conceded. ¡°But I want to be present for the test.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Miles agreed at once. ¡°In fact, I was hoping you would be. Your unique magical connection to the mimics might provide valuable insights during the process.¡± They fetched the small mimic from its cage in the back room. It had settled into a wobbly bowl shape, its surface rippling now and then as if uncertain about its form. About the size of two cupped hands, it had a mottled green and brown coloration that reminded Brakar of pond scum. Brakar took extra care carrying it down to the cellar, where Hartwick had cleared a space on his workbench and surrounded it with various measuring devices. ¡°Place it here,¡± the alchemist instructed, indicating a small metal platform at the center of the arrangement. Brakar set the mimic down with caution. It wobbled, then settled. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Now, I¡¯ll apply the mixture on its surface,¡± Miles explained, preparing a small dropper. ¡°We should see results within minutes.¡± He released three drops of the green liquid onto the mimic¡¯s surface. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the mimic began to tremble, its color deepening to a richer green. ¡°Fascinating,¡± Miles murmured. ¡°The pigmentation response is immediate.¡± The mimic¡¯s surface went smooth, the ripples vanishing. Its form stabilized into a perfect bowl, the edges crisp and defined, while the color shifted into a deep emerald green with subtle swirls of gold. ¡°Look at that stability,¡± the alchemist breathed, impressed with his own work. ¡°And the color enhancement is beyond what I expected.¡± Brakar reached out, his magic sensing the mimic¡¯s condition. To his surprise, the creature felt... content. ¡°It¡¯s not fighting the transformation at all,¡± he observed. ¡°Exactly!¡± Hartwick exclaimed. ¡°Instead of forcing compliance, this formula creates conditions where the mimic prefers to maintain its form. Less energy expenditure, more stability, happier mimic.¡± Naia leaned in for a closer look. ¡°The finish is extraordinary. It looks like fine porcelain.¡± ¡°An unexpected benefit,¡± Miles admitted. ¡°I hypothesized improved stability, but the aesthetic enhancement is a welcome bonus. I suspect the mixture is allowing the mimic to focus its energy on surface perfection rather than fighting to maintain basic shape.¡± The shop¡¯s bell rang. ¡°I should go up.¡± Naia said. ¡°I¡¯ll join you,¡± Brakar offered. ¡°Wait,¡± Miles interjected, ¡°I was hoping you might stay, Brakar. Your input on the mimic¡¯s condition would be invaluable for my notes.¡± As Naia ascended the stairs, Miles turned to Brakar with undisguised curiosity. ¡°While we monitor the specimen, perhaps you could explain your unique connection to these creatures? Thadan mentioned something about a magical accent?¡± Brakar stiffened. His condition wasn¡¯t something he discussed freely, especially with academics who might view it as merely an interesting anomaly to study. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± ¡°The best things usually are,¡± Miles replied, his tone surprisingly gentle. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to pry, but understanding your method could help refine the formula further.¡± Sighing, Brakar decided that a partial explanation couldn¡¯t hurt. ¡°My magic developed... incorrectly. When I cast spells, they come out slightly mistranslated, like someone speaking with an accent. It made traditional magic studies difficult. Technically speaking, my magic comes from my secondary core instead of my primary one, which messed up my channels. Because of that, I¡¯ll never be able to open my third gate.¡± ¡°But mimics understand this ¡®accent¡¯?¡± Miles prompted. ¡°More than understand it. They respond to it,¡± Brakar confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s like I¡¯m accidentally speaking their native language. I can communicate intentions directly, rather than forcing them to comply.¡± Miles¡¯s eyes lit with fascination. ¡°Extraordinary. Have you ever considered that your ¡®incorrect¡¯ magic might actually be more correct in certain contexts? Traditional magical pedagogy tends to enforce rigid standards that may not reflect the full spectrum of arcane possibilities.¡± The suggestion startled Brakar. Throughout his life, his magical quirk had been treated as a deficiency to be overcome, not a different but equally valid approach. ¡°I... hadn¡¯t thought of it that way.¡± ¡°Academic institutions can be frustratingly narrow-minded,¡± Miles said, with a bitter undertone as if speaking from experience. ¡°They label anything outside established parameters as ¡®wrong¡¯ rather than ¡®different.¡¯¡± He adjusted one of his measuring devices, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. ¡°I¡¯ve long believed that magical knowledge should be more accessible, more democratized. Your ability is a perfect example of how unconventional approaches can yield remarkable results.¡± Something in his tone made Brakar look up sharply. ¡°What exactly did you study at the university, Mr. Hartwick?¡± ¡°Theoretical applications of transformative alchemy, with a focus on practical accessibility for non-aristocratic practitioners.¡± ¡°Meaning?¡± ¡°Meaning I believe magical power shouldn¡¯t be hoarded by elites,¡± Miles explained, his voice taking on a passionate edge. ¡°Common people deserve access to magical protections and enhancements without paying extortionate prices to mages¡¯ guilds or noble-owned apothecaries.¡± The sentiment resonated with Brakar more than he cared to admit. His own struggles with traditional magic had partly stemmed from his inability to afford the specialized tutoring that might have identified his unique condition earlier. ¡°And how does that philosophy apply to our mimic furniture?¡± he asked. Miles gestured to the transformed bowl, now gleaming on the workbench. ¡°This is just the beginning. Imagine what else these creatures could become with the right guidance. Affordable magical furnishings for ordinary homes, not just luxuries for the wealthy.¡± ¡°We¡¯re already selling to middle-class customers,¡± Brakar pointed out. ¡°Yes, but you¡¯ve barely scratched the surface of what¡¯s possible,¡± Miles insisted. ¡°With refined formulas and targeted transformations, you could create pieces with genuine enchantments.¡± ¡°The mimic looks stable,¡± he observed, returning his attention to the specimen. ¡°I should check on Naia and the customers.¡± Miles nodded, already turning back to his notes. ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll continue monitoring and prepare additional test batches. If this one remains stable, we could try the formula on a larger specimen at a later time.¡± As Brakar climbed the stairs, he found himself both impressed by Miles¡¯s work and unsettled by the man¡¯s intensity. There was genuine brilliance there, but something was off. Upstairs, he found Naia guiding a wealthy-looking couple through the showroom, highlighting the unique benefits of their mimic-furniture. ¡°And here¡¯s our specialist now,¡± Naia said as Brakar approached. ¡°Brakar oversees all our custom transformations. If you have any specific requirements for the dining set, he would be the one to consult.¡± The woman turned to Brakar with the polite interest of someone accustomed to being catered to. ¡°We were just discussing whether the chairs could be adjusted for my mother. She finds standard heights uncomfortable for her hips.¡± ¡°Absolutely,¡± Brakar confirmed, mentally calculating how to instruct the mimic-chairs to accommodate an elderly user. Chapter 26: A Hungry Mind Craves a Taste Sunlight fractured into kaleidoscopic splinters as it navigated Ironweave¡¯s metal latticework, transforming the city into a mosaic of brilliance that dazzled from every angle. Thadan breathed in the crisp morning air as he strolled through the marketplace, a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips. Birds chirped from their perches on window ledges and awnings, seemingly as pleased with the day as he was. Life was beautiful. Othh and his inspection crew had successfully completed their survey without a single casualty from those horrifying Inverse Bats he¡¯d described in such graphic detail. But that wasn¡¯t the important part. The important part was that Othh had paid them twenty gold coins. Twenty. Gold. Coins. Brakar and he could live comfortably for two months with that kind of money, more than comfortably¡ªthey could even buy a small boat if they wanted. Not that Thadan wanted a boat, but the possibility existed, and that was the point. Instead, they¡¯d done the responsible thing. Kip had been compensated for his beautiful craftsmanship, Naia had been compensated (though they were still negotiating her permanent wages), Miles had been compensated for his bizarre but effective alchemical concoctions, and they were finally, gloriously debt-free¡ªincluding Thadan¡¯s notorious tab at The Six Spoons. The owner had actually looked surprised when Thadan handed over the coins, as if he¡¯d assumed that particular debt would follow him to the grave. Their provisional business license had become a permanent approval by the Ironweave Commerce Guild. They weren¡¯t just two retired adventurers playing at being merchants anymore¡ªMimic & Co. had five employees and a shit ton of customers. Most wanted lanterns, yes, but real furniture was becoming an increasingly popular part of their business... well, ¡°real¡± might be stretching it, but people knew what he meant. Furniture had actually been their primary target since the beginning, after all. The hard part was keeping up with demand. They¡¯d just been able to close all fourteen orders Naia had collected while he¡¯d been away on his top-secret mission to the Brightsteel estate, but more orders had piled up over the past three weeks. At least their load was at a comfortable nine unfulfilled orders now, since most of the recurring business was for lanterns. They still had the twenty that Othh had returned, so they could keep renting them out based on priority and need. The good thing about the lanterns was that they could feed them the maintenance solution before sending them out again¡ªa nice, steady stream of income. Rytha had been keeping up her end of the bargain too, steadily bringing them five to seven mimics every week or two from her dungeon expeditions. The quality was excellent¡ªshe had a knack for finding specimens that took well to transformation. Sometimes Thadan wondered what exactly Rytha was doing with that fancy skull artifact he¡¯d given her, but he wasn¡¯t complaining about the steady supply of mimics. For the furniture, though... Mimic & Co. had started including a complementary three-month maintenance service with each purchase. That was what Thadan was doing today. He¡¯d already serviced two chairs and was on his way to his last call of the day. The complementary maintenance was Naia¡¯s idea, and at the very least it would give them time to perfect Miles¡¯ top-secret solution, which was still in R&D. But all in all, life was good. Business was good. And it was all there in black and white on their financial ledger, which Brakar had taken to updating with a pleasure that bordered on the obscene.
MIMIC & CO. FINANCIAL LEDGER
Week 4 of Operations
Cash Flow
Description Money In Money Out Balance
Starting cash 200 C - 2 S
Othh¡¯s first rental payment 20 C - 2 S, 20 C
Constantin¡¯s rental (5x rate) 50 C - 2 S, 70 C
Lady Caroline¡¯s chair purchase 1 G - 1 G, 2 S, 70 C
Othh¡¯s expanded rental deposit 3 G - 4 G, 2 S, 70 C
Othh¡¯s rental payment (20 lanterns/10 days) 20 G - 24 G, 2 S, 70 C
Othh¡¯s security deposit returned - 3 G 21 G, 2 S, 70 C
Constantin¡¯s ongoing rental payment 50 C - 21 G, 3 S, 20 C
Payment to Rytha (12 mimics total) - 2 G, 4 S 19 G, 9 S, 20 C
Various chairs sold (3) 1 G 10 S 20 G, 19 S, 20 C
Payment for Thadan¡¯s tab - 18 S 20 G, 1 S, 20 C
Inventory
Item Quantity Status Value
Mimic-lanterns 20 Rented to Othh 2 G
Mimic-sofa 1 In shop (well-behaved) 1 G, 80 S
Mimic-chair OG 0 Sold to Lady Caroline -
Mimic-chair 0 3 sold
Untransformed mimics 7 In storage 70 S
Accounts Receivable
Who Amount What Due Date
Constantin 18 G Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Vampire lantern security deposit Return of lantern
Constantin 50 C/day Vampire lantern rental Weekly
Various 3 G Customer orders Upon completion
Accounts Payable
Who Amount What Due Date
Guild 15 G Business loan Monthly
Landlord 2 G Shop rent Monthly
Equipment suppliers 3 G Replacement costs As needed
Asset Register
Item Value Description Notes
Desk 50 S Artisan desk from Kip Gifted item
Front counter 85 S Custom built by Kip Gifted item
Shop fixtures 30 S Improved displays Upgraded
Payroll
Employee Pay Rate Position Next Payday
Naia TBD Showroom Manager End of month
Thadan bounded up the well-maintained stone steps, whistling the tune of "The Maiden''s Last Kiss"¡ªa bawdy tavern song that had no place in this neighborhood. The mansion loomed before him, its red brick exterior catching the morning light in a way that made it glow with quiet dignity. Symmetrical windows with gleaming glass panes stared down at him like the judgmental eyes of the aristocracy. Far more impressive than our shop, he thought, adjusting his collar. He''d worn his best tunic today¡ªthe one with only a faint wine stain after Brakar''s best efforts. The gardens surrounding the property put the city''s public parks to shame. Hedges trimmed with geometric precision formed natural walls around beds of flowers Thadan couldn''t name but knew were expensive. A fountain burbled in the center of a circular path, the water catching the sunlight and throwing tiny rainbows across the stonework. He lifted the brass knocker¡ªshaped like a lion''s head with a ring clutched in its teeth¡ªand let it fall against the massive oak door. The sound echoed, not just outside, but through the entire structure. Thadan shifted his weight from foot to foot, aware now of the scuff marks on his boots and the way his hair looked like he''d just rolled out of bed. Which he had, but that wasn''t the point. It swung open without a sound¡ªa sign of well-oiled hinges that cost more than his rent each month. Edwin stood in the doorway, his silver hair catching the light, his posture impeccable. The butler''s eyes betrayed a flash of recognition, and though his expression remained neutral in his role, there was a hint of warmth in the slight upward turn of his mouth. "Ah, Master Ginedras. Right on schedule. Please, come in." Thadan stepped into an entrance hall that made him feel awed, yet also aware of his social standing. Polished wooden floors gleamed beneath his feet, reflecting the soft light from crystal chandeliers. Tasteful artwork adorned the walls¡ªlargely landscapes, with a few portraits of severe-looking ancestors who seemed to disapprove of his presence. "Nice place," Thadan said, then realized he should have said something more sophisticated. "Very... architectural." Edwin''s expression didn''t change, but Thadan could''ve sworn he saw amusement flash in the old man''s eyes. "Indeed, sir. The east wing dates back to the pre-Unification era, though the main structure was rebuilt during the Harmonious Restoration. Lady Caroline is in the south drawing room. If you''ll follow me." As they walked through corridors lined with more artwork and the occasional display of what looked like expensive but pointless objects, Thadan found himself reimagining the Mimic & Co. shop. One day, he promised himself. One day we''ll have a showroom that makes this place look like a peasant''s hovel. He could picture it¡ªmimic furniture arranged in tasteful displays, wealthy clients sipping wine as Naia explained the benefits of sentient seating, and him¡ªcounting gold coins in a private office with a view of the city. Edwin led him through an archway into a sun-drenched living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the garden, filling the space with natural light that highlighted the rich colors of the furnishings. And there, positioned to catch the sunlight without being overwhelmed by it, was one of their mimic-chairs¡ªsleek, elegant, and supporting a sleeping Caroline. The chair had adjusted itself to support her unusual sleeping position, her legs curled to one side while her head rested against a portion of the backrest that had reshaped itself into something resembling a pillow. The chair''s surface had a subtle iridescence in the sunlight¡ªsomething Thadan hadn''t noticed when they''d delivered it. "Lady Caroline," Edwin said in a low tone. "Master Ginedras has arrived for the maintenance appointment." Caroline stirred, her eyes fluttering open with the grace of someone who''d been taught the proper way to wake up. Her face brightened with recognition as she saw Thadan, and she adjusted herself to a more proper sitting position. The chair shifted beneath her, maintaining perfect support. "Thadan! How wonderful to see you again." Her voice carried the refined accent of the upper nobility but was warmed by genuine enthusiasm. "Edwin, could you bring us some refreshment?" "Of course, my lady." The butler bowed with a small motion and withdrew, leaving them alone. Caroline gestured to a conventional armchair opposite her. "Please, sit. I''ve been eagerly awaiting your visit. This chair has been nothing short of miraculous." Thadan sat, noting with professional interest how the conventional chair felt stiff and unyielding compared to their mimic products. "I''m glad to hear it. We aim for ''miracle'' status with all our furniture." She laughed¡ªa delicate sound that nevertheless filled the room. "Well, you''ve certainly succeeded. I can''t tell you what a difference it''s made. I can actually spend entire afternoons reading without discomfort. And my mobility has increased significantly¡ªI believe it''s because I''m no longer in constant pain while sitting." "That''s exactly what we designed it for," Thadan lied with ease. In truth, they''d simply asked the mimic to become a chair and hoped for the best, but Caroline didn''t need to know that. "The way it adjusts to my position is remarkable," she continued, demonstrating by shifting her posture. The chair flowed under her, cradling her spine and limbs. "I''ve shown it to several of my physician specialists, and they''re fascinated. Dr. Merriwell actually asked me for your business card." "Always happy to expand our clientele," Thadan replied, though a nervous flutter ran through him at the thought of physicians scrutinizing their products. "Speaking of which, I''ve brought the new feeding solution we discussed in my last letter." He reached into his satchel and produced a small vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid¡ªMiles'' latest creation. The alchemist had worked without rest on improvements, and this batch was formulated for long-term stability. "This should extend the transformation period significantly," he explained, removing the cork. "And improve overall responsiveness. May I?" Caroline nodded, and Thadan approached the chair. He knelt beside it, finding the barely visible seam along its base where the mimic could consume the solution without breaking its disguise. He poured the liquid into the small opening, watching as it was absorbed in an instant. The chair shuddered in a faint way, then settled. Its surface took on a deeper luster. "There we go," Thadan said, standing. "Good for another three months, at least. Though I''m happy to come back sooner if you notice any changes." Edwin returned with a tray bearing a silver tea service and small cakes that looked too delicate to consume. He set it on a side table and began pouring with practiced efficiency. "Will there be anything else, my lady?" "No thank you, Edwin. That will be all for now." The butler nodded and withdrew, though Thadan noticed he left it a bit ajar¡ªno doubt keeping an ear out for his charge despite her obvious comfort with the visitor. Caroline accepted a cup from the service. "You must tell me how business is going. I''ve been following your progress with interest." Thadan launched into an overview of Mimic & Co.''s recent successes, careful to emphasize their growing reputation while downplaying the frantic scramble that characterized most of their days. He mentioned their expanding product line, their new employees, and their recent licensing approval without dwelling on the bureaucratic nightmare that had accompanied it. Caroline listened with genuine interest, asking questions about their manufacturing process (which Thadan answered with creative vagueness) and their plans for expansion. Their conversation moved from business to more casual topics¡ªthe changing seasons in Ironweave, a new restaurant that had opened near the university district, a traveling theater troupe performing in the city square. "Oh, before I forget," Caroline said as their conversation reached a natural pause, "I''ve taken the liberty of mentioning your shop to several acquaintances. The Duchess of Embercove was particularly interested after seeing my chair during our last salon gathering. It caused quite a stir when it adjusted itself while I was reaching for a book." Thadan had to fight not to choke on his tea. The Duchess of Embercove was one of the wealthiest landowners in the region. "That''s... extremely generous of you." Caroline waved away his thanks. "Not at all. Quality craftsmanship deserves recognition, and I assure you my friends can afford your prices." She hesitated, then added with a small smile, "Though you might want to consider a special ''nobility rate'' for such distinguished clientele." Thadan recognized the suggestion for what it was¡ªa reminder that the wealthy expected to pay more for exclusivity. "Of course. We always adjust our pricing structure for... distinguished clientele." Their meeting continued for another half-hour, concluding with Caroline pressing a small envelope into his hand. "Your maintenance fee, as agreed. Plus a small bonus for the excellent service." The envelope felt much heavier than their agreed rate, but Thadan knew better than to comment on it. Instead, he offered a small bow¡ªa gesture he''d never have attempted in his adventuring days, but which seemed appropriate in this setting. "It''s always a pleasure, Lady Caroline. Please don''t hesitate to send word if you need anything at all." As Edwin escorted him back through the mansion''s winding corridors, Thadan found himself walking taller. This was what success felt like¡ªbeing welcomed into homes like this, treated with respect by people who could buy and sell his entire existence without noticing the expense. At the grand entrance, Edwin paused before opening it. "Master Ginedras, if I may say so, Lady Caroline has greatly benefited from your... product. Her condition often makes finding suitable accommodations challenging, and your chair has provided more relief than any of the custom furnishings we''ve commissioned over the years." Thadan was surprised by the personal comment from the otherwise reserved man. "I''m glad we could help. That''s really what we''re about¡ªfurniture that adapts to people, not the other way around." That¡¯s good, he thought. We should put that on a sign. Edwin''s expression softened in a subtle way. "Indeed. I''ve served the family for many years, and it does my heart good to see her comfort improved. She''s mentioned you might be creating other pieces in the future?" "Absolutely. We''re working on a full line of adaptive furniture. I''d be happy to keep you informed of new developments." "Please do." Edwin opened the door, sunlight flooding the entryway. "Good day, Master Ginedras." The walk back to Mimic & Co. seemed shorter than usual, Thadan''s steps lighter as he calculated the contents of Caroline''s envelope in his head. If the bonus was as generous as he suspected, they might be able to move forward with the showroom renovations sooner than planned. Maybe they could even afford that fancy imported wood Kip had been hinting would make excellent display platforms. The shop came into view, its new paint gleaming in the midday sun. MIMIC & CO. in bold lettering, with the smaller tagline "Furniture That Adapts To You" beneath it. Thadan grinned at the sight. Not bad for a couple of failed adventurers who were almost devoured by the inventory. He pushed open the entrance, the little bell jingling in a pleasant tone to announce his arrival. Brakar was arranging their newest mimic display¡ªa writing desk with an integrated bookshelf that could extend or retract based on the user''s needs. The business had transformed in recent weeks, growing from their initial haphazard collection to an organized showroom with different "living spaces" showcasing their various products. "Brakar! You will not believe the morning I''ve had!" Thadan announced, without so much as a greeting. Brakar looked up, a resigned expression settling on his features. "Let me guess. You''ve discovered another ''revolutionary'' marketing approach that involves dressed-up mimics performing synchronized dancing?" "What? No! That was last week''s idea, and it still has merit." Thadan dropped his satchel on the counter and paced with enthusiasm. "This is much bigger. I''ve had a revelation about chair design while visiting Caroline." He didn''t pause for breath as he launched into an elaborate explanation, his hands gesturing in energetic sweeps. "It''s all about glute dynamics analysis¡ªthe scientifically optimal curves for posterior comfort across different species and body types!" Brakar''s brow furrowed. "Glute... what?" Chapter 27: The Pink Pan鈥擶ait, No, Leopard! "Dynamics analysis!" Thadan insisted, as though it were a genuine, established field of study. "Think about it, Brak. Different races have different... sitting requirements. Humans need one type of support, elves another, dwarves something completely different. And don''t get me started on tailed species!" "I wasn''t planning to." "The key is pressure distribution zones!" Thadan continued, undeterred. "We need to map the anatomical pressure points for optimal weight distribution across variable metabolic frameworks!" Brakar set down the cloth he''d been using to dust the display. "Those aren''t real terms." "Maybe not yet, but they will be once I publish my research." Thadan pulled a folded paper from his pocket and spread it across the counter. It was covered in crude sketches of various backsides with nonsensical annotations. "Look, I''ve already started documenting comfort sustainability metrics based on different racial anatomies." Brakar leaned over the paper, his expression growing more pained. "Thadan, this is just a drawing of butts with random words next to them. You''ve labeled this one ''extra squishy zone'' and this one ''pointy elf parts.''" "Technical terminology," Thadan retorted. Naia walked by, paused to glance at the diagram, and excused herself with a strangled sound that resembled suppressed laughter. "Besides," Brakar said, folding the paper with the air of a parent confiscating a child''s inappropriate drawing, "mimics naturally adjust to their users. That''s the entire selling point of our business. This entire analysis is pointless." Thadan snatched the paper back, refolding it with care. "Pointless? This research will revolutionize furniture comfort standards! It gives us a marketing edge¡ª''scientifically designed for your specific anatomy.''" "But it''s not¡ª" The shop bell jangled in a sharp way, cutting off Brakar''s protest. Both men turned toward the entrance, where a figure now stood silhouetted against the bright street beyond. As it swung shut, Thadan''s first thought was that Mira had returned. But no¡ªwhile this was indeed a leopard-folk, it wasn''t their former party member. For one thing, Mira would never have been caught dead in the outfit this fellow was wearing. And, of course, Mira¡¯s fur wasn¡¯t dyed a ridiculous shade of pink¡ªnor did she need any gimmicks to stand out, considering how many times it had been established that she was absurdly hot. The leopard''s spotted fur had been dyed a vibrant pink that clashed in a shocking way with his attempt at intimidating attire¡ªa black leather suit that was at least one size too small, judging by the way it strained across his chest and shoulders. Gold chains hung around his neck, and an oversized ring glinted on his finger as he adjusted his collar, which appeared to be choking him somewhat. "Which one of you is Thadan Ginedras?" the newcomer asked, his voice cultured despite his attempt at a menacing growl. Thadan stepped forward, maintaining his casual demeanor while positioning himself between the stranger and Brakar. "That would be me. And you are...?" The leopard-folk drew himself up to his full height¡ªwhich wasn''t all that impressive¡ªand announced: "Spike. I represent Davarian Blacktree''s financial interests in this district." He paused, as if waiting for a reaction to the name. When none came, he continued: "Mr. Blacktree has noticed that your payment is now three days overdue, and he sent me to inquire about this unfortunate oversight." Thadan felt a cold sensation creep down his spine, but kept his expression neutral. "Ah, right. Must''ve slipped my mind with all the new responsibilities. I do apologize for the inconvenience." Brakar shot him a confused look, which Thadan chose to ignore. "Mr. Blacktree appreciates promptness in his business dealings," Spike said, running a claw along the edge of a nearby display table. "He finds it... establishes the proper tone for ongoing relationships." "Absolutely," Thadan agreed, reached into his pocket, pulled out a small pouch, loosened the strings, and carefully counted out the coins. "Here, plus the agreed interest." The leopard-folk opened it and began counting, his eyes narrowing as he verified the amount. "You''ve done quite well for yourselves," Spike observed, glancing around the shop with new interest. "Mr. Blacktree will be pleased to hear his investment has yielded such promising results." "We''re managing," Thadan replied with vague confidence. "Indeed. Though Mr. Blacktree does feel that tardiness should include an additional inconvenience fee. To discourage future oversights." Thadan''s polite smile hardened. "That wasn''t part of our arrangement." "Arrangements evolve, Mr. Ginedras." Spike took a step forward. "Especially when one party demonstrates a certain casualness about their obligations." "I think we''re done here," Thadan said, his tone turning colder. "Please convey my apologies to Mr. Blacktree for the delay, and my expectation that our original terms will be honored." Spike''s expression darkened, and he took another step forward. "Mr. Blacktree doesn''t appreciate¡ª" Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He never finished the sentence. With a sound like wet leather stretching, the mimic-sofa beside him extended a tendril that wrapped around his ankle. Spike looked down, his expression shifting from confusion to horror in the span of a heartbeat. "WHAT IN THE ACTUAL¡ª" He leapt backward with a startled yelp, tripping over a small display table and sending a collection of mimic-vases tumbling. The vases, rather than breaking, bounced and rolled, some of them extending tiny pseudopods to right themselves. Spike scrambled to his feet, backing toward the entrance. "Blacktree will hear about this... this... whatever this is!" His attempt at intimidation was undermined by the small cloud of pink fur he was shedding in his panic and the high-pitched crack in his voice. As he fled, it banged shut behind him, leaving behind a lingering scent¡ªa cloying sweetness that Thadan couldn''t place. "Cotton candy cologne," Brakar said, wrinkling his nose. "Poorly masked by leather and musk." "You can tell?" Thadan asked, briefly distracted. "Hard to miss." Brakar walked to the entrance and locked it, flipping the sign to ¡°Closed¡± before turning to face Thadan. His expression was one Thadan hadn''t encountered often¡ªgenuine anger, tempered with disappointment. "So," Brakar said, crossing his arms. "Who exactly is Davarian Blacktree, and why does it sound like our business is financed by someone who employs color-coordinated thugs?" Thadan gave his most winning smile. "It''s not as bad as it sounds. Just a small business loan to get us started. Very standard." Brakar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And who is this Blacktree? Some kind of crime lord?" The backroom office felt smaller than usual, the walls pressing in as he tried to find the right words to explain his arrangement with Blacktree. "Look," Thadan began, "remember when I told you I''d signed the lease before asking you to join me?" "How could I forget?" Brakar''s voice was dry. "It was a particularly Thadan thing to do." "Well, what I didn''t mention was that I didn''t actually have enough money for the lease." Thadan leaned forward, elbows on his knees too. "I had maybe a quarter of what we needed, and that''s being generous." "So you went to a loan shark." It wasn''t a question. "Not... exactly. Not at first." Thadan stood and began pacing the small space. "I tried the legitimate routes. Went to every bank in Ironweave. Even tried the Merchant''s Guild credit union. But you know what they all said?" "No?" "They laughed." Thadan''s voice took on an edge. "Actually laughed. Said no bank would back two failed adventurers trying to start a business with no experience, no collateral, and¡ªthis is my favorite part¡ª''unrealistic profit projections.''" Brakar raised an eyebrow. "What exactly were these projections?" "That''s not important," Thadan waved dismissively. "The point is, they wouldn''t even consider us. Then I heard about this guy, Blacktree. Word was he specialized in ''alternative financing'' for promising ventures that traditional lenders wouldn''t touch." "And you didn''t think there might be a reason traditional lenders wouldn''t touch them?" Thadan ignored the sarcasm. "I set up a meeting through one of his associates. Nice place, actually. Private room at The Velvet Touch. Very upscale." "The brothel?" "Details. Anyway, Blacktree likes to conduct business there because it''s neutral ground. Plus, the drinks are excellent. He actually liked our business plan," Thadan continued. "Said it showed ''innovative market disruption potential.'' Whatever that means." "It means he saw an opportunity to exploit desperate people," Brakar muttered. "Maybe. But he also offered terms when no one else would. Thirty percent interest." Brakar''s eyes widened. "Thirty? That''s¡ª" "Daylight robbery, yes. But it was that or give up on the shop entirely. "And I had a plan. I figured once we got established, proved the concept was viable, we could get a proper business loan and pay off Blacktree." "So, are we in the clear now?" "I¡¯m not sure. I have a bad feeling about that stupid inconvenience fee that guy mentioned." Brakar was quiet for a long moment, processing this information. Finally, he asked, "Why didn''t you tell me about this before?" Thadan''s grin faded. "Would you have agreed to be my partner if you''d known we were starting with black market financing?" "Probably not," Brakar admitted. "Exactly. And then where would we be? You''d still be healing random adventurers for copper pieces, and I''d probably be dead in a ditch somewhere after another failed quest." Thadan spread his arms. "Instead, we have a business, steady income. Sometimes the end justifies the means." Brakar stood up abruptly, his usually calm demeanor fracturing. "End justifies the means?" His voice was low but carried an edge Thadan had rarely heard. "This isn''t about some harebrained scheme that only risks your own neck. This is our livelihood¡ªand our lives." "Look, I had it under control," Thadan protested, but even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow. "Did you? Because that pink-furred reject just threatened us in our own shop. Over an ''inconvenience fee'' that wasn''t part of your original deal." Brakar''s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "What happens when Blacktree decides to change the terms again? When he decides our shop is doing so well that we should start paying him a monthly fee?" "We''ll cross that bridge¡ª" "No." Brakar cut him off. "We''re already on that bridge, and it''s burning beneath our feet. I trusted you, Thadan. Despite everything¡ªdespite the questionable decisions, the half-baked plans, the constant improvisation¡ªI trusted that you wouldn''t put us in actual danger." Thadan felt a knot forming in his stomach. "It''s not that bad¡ª" "It is!" Brakar grabbed Thadan by his shirt. "This isn''t some dungeon where we can fight our way out if things go wrong. These people¡ªpeople like Blacktree¡ªthey don''t play by adventurers'' rules. They break kneecaps. They burn down shops. They make examples of people." A silence fell between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Outside, they could hear the distant sounds of the market¡ªnormal life continuing, oblivious to their crisis. "I need some air," Brakar finally said, his voice quieter but no less intense, and releasing Thadan. "And I need to think about whether I can keep doing this. Whether I can keep trusting you." Thadan stood, alarmed. "Wait, you''re not saying¡ª" "I don''t know what I''m saying yet." Brakar grabbed his coat. "That''s why I need to think." He paused at the door, not quite looking back. "For what it''s worth, I know you meant well. You always do. But I don''t feel safe anymore, Thadan. And I can''t work like that." The door closed behind him with a soft click that felt more final than a slam would have. Thadan slumped into his chair, running his hands through his hair. "Well, that could have gone better," he muttered to himself. The mimic-paperweight inched back toward the center of the desk, extending a small pseudopod to pat Thadan''s hand in what might have been sympathy. He sat there for several minutes, mind racing through possibilities, each more desperate than the last. Brakar was right¡ªthey were in over their heads. And now he might lose his business partner over it. His friend. "Nice one, Brightsteel." Interlude 3: Guild Politics Lord Vale arrived exactly seventeen minutes late to the Commerce Guild meeting¡ªnot so tardy as to be insulting, but just enough to ensure everyone else was already seated. The power move was unnecessary; his presence commanded the room regardless. The Grand Chamber of the Commerce Guild stretched beneath arched ceilings of hammered copper and iron, its massive oval table surrounded by twenty-six uncomfortable chairs designed to keep meetings efficient. Ironweave''s most influential merchants occupied them, their wealth displayed through subtle signals¡ªa quality of fabric here, an unusual gemstone there. Nothing gaudy. That would be uncouth. The scribe''s pen scratched across parchment, recording minutes with mathematical exactitude as Guild Master Farrow droned through quarterly tax adjustments. "The Council has increased import duties on Calishite silks by three percent, resulting in projected revenue increases of approximately..." Vale let the words wash over him, his attention on the financial reports spread before each guild member. Numbers told more honest stories than people ever did. His fingers, pale and unnaturally long, traced column after column of figures. Seventeen trade disputes resolved. Four hundred twenty-three new business registrations. Seventy-two violations of commerce regulations. Each number a story, each story an opportunity. "Moving to new legislation," Farrow continued, flipping to a fresh page. "The Council has approved standardized weights and measures for all marketplaces, to be implemented by next quarter. Implementation costs will be distributed according to registered revenue brackets." "Again?" Barton Greaves from the Distillers Guild slapped the table. "We just changed our barrels last year. This is pure extortion." "The vote was unanimous, Barton." Farrow didn''t look up from his papers. "Take it up with your Council representative." Vale watched the expressions around the table. Greaves was posturing, nothing more. The man had been complaining about regulations for thirty years while quietly profiting from each one. The more interesting reaction came from Merrick Coldstone, whose jewelry empire spanned three districts. The dwarf''s eyes had narrowed at the mention of implementation costs¡ªa sign his declared revenues might not match reality. Worth investigating later. Farrow cleared his throat. "Next item: business district zoning adjustments. Lower Merchant''s End has been reclassified from provisional to established status, resulting in adjusted taxation schedules for twenty-seven businesses..." "Including that new furniture shop," Ellwick Mornis interjected, his fat dwarven fingers drumming against his protruding belly. "The one that''s all the rage with nobles lately. What''s it called?" "Mimic & Co.," supplied Tabitha Reid, her wire-framed spectacles glinting in the lamplight. "Quite the success story. From opening to waitlists in less than a season." Vale''s expression remained perfectly neutral as conversation diverted toward the upstart business. His assistant watched him carefully from the shadows behind his chair, ready to note any reaction. "Don''t they rent lanterns?" Graston Haverhill asked, the orc''s massive frame spilling over his specially reinforced chair. Sweat beaded on his green forehead despite the room''s mild temperature. "My wife''s sister hired some for her daughter''s engagement celebration." "They''ve expanded," Reid replied. "Chairs, sofas, tables¡ªall with some proprietary crafting method that makes them perfectly suited to the individual customer." "My daughter acquired one of their chairs," Haverhill nodded. "Claims it''s the only thing that doesn''t aggravate her condition. Paid a full gold piece for it." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Vale''s finger paused on the page, the only indication he was listening. "A gold for a chair?" Merrick snorted. "Hope it massages her feet too." "Full waiting list for their dining sets," Reid continued. "Three-month delay currently. My sources say they''re considering expanding to a second location." "Getting nervous, Vale?" Greaves grinned, yellowed teeth flashing. "Might put a dent in your furniture empire." Every eye turned toward Vale, who looked up with practiced disinterest. "The furniture market accommodates many players," he said, his voice soft yet carrying to every corner of the room. "Innovation is the lifeblood of commerce." "Innovation indeed," Haverhill chuckled. "My daughter swears the chair actually adjusts itself when she sits. Marketing nonsense, obviously, but whatever they''re doing, customers are noticing." "Their registration paperwork was impeccable," Farrow noted, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to official business. "All fees paid promptly, proper commercial licenses acquired within the first month. None of the usual startup irregularities." "Suspiciously perfect, one might say," Vale observed, allowing the barest lift of one eyebrow. "Suspicion of success is unbecoming, Vale," Greaves jabbed. "Perhaps they simply understand customer needs better than established enterprises." Vale answered with a smile that never reached his eyes. "Understanding customers has never been my concern, Greaves. Understanding markets, however..." He let the statement hang. "The evaluation period for new businesses concludes next quarter," Farrow interjected firmly. "Formal competition analyses will be available then. Now, regarding the proposed extension of trading hours in the Night Market..." The discussion moved on, attention shifting away from Mimic & Co. as quickly as it had focused on it. Vale''s expression betrayed nothing, his pale features a mask of polite interest as the meeting progressed through seventeen more agenda items. Only his assistant noticed how the edge of the financial report had crumpled between his fingers. When the meeting concluded ninety-seven minutes later, Vale was the first to stand, gathering his papers with precise movements. "Your carriage is waiting, my lord," his assistant murmured, materializing at his elbow. Vale nodded once, a nearly imperceptible movement. He exchanged precisely measured pleasantries with three guild members whose support he required for an upcoming vote, then moved toward the exit with measured steps. Graston Haverhill intercepted him at the door, his bulk blocking the narrow exit. "My daughter speaks very highly of that shop," the orc said, lowering his voice. "Says the young men running it remind her of how merchants used to be. Passionate about their craft." "How delightful for her," Vale replied. "I''m pleased she found something to ease her condition." "She asked if you''d visited yet. Thought it might interest you." Vale''s smile thinned. "I make it a policy never to visit competitors directly. Conflicts of interest can be so... messy." "Not afraid of a little competition, are you?" Haverhill''s laugh boomed through the chamber, drawing glances. "Competition implies similar offerings, Haverhill. I deal in furniture. From what I gather, Mimic & Co. deals in... experiences." Vale stepped around the orc with fluid grace, his assistant falling into step behind him. "Experiences don''t last, Vale," Haverhill called after him. "But quality furniture does." Vale didn''t break stride as he descended the guild''s marble steps. His carriage waited exactly where it should, the black lacquered surface gleaming in the afternoon sun. The door opened as he approached. "The usual route?" his assistant asked, notebook ready. "No," Vale replied, his voice carrying no emotion whatsoever. "Take us past Lower Merchant''s End. I wish to see this... innovation... for myself." His assistant made a note, then climbed into the carriage after him. As the wheels began to turn, Vale gazed out the window, his reflection ghostly against the glass. Somewhere in the city, two young merchants were building something unexpected, something that had caught the attention of Ironweave''s elite. Something that had customers paying gold for chairs. Interesting. The carriage turned onto the main thoroughfare, moving at precisely the speed Vale preferred. His expression remained perfectly composed, revealing nothing of his thoughts¡ªnot to his assistant, not to the guild, and certainly not to himself. Numbers told stories. And these numbers warranted closer inspection.