Chapter 30

Back at the inn, the clamor of the yard met me as usual. The horses and carts bustled about, and workers shouted commands as they went about their business. It was a stark contrast to the quiet secrecy of the auction house moments earlier. I couldn't help but feel the irony. Everyone here was just going about their lives, completely unaware of the subtle power plays happening just beneath the surface of the city.

I made my way up to my room, thinking about what lay ahead. A clandestine meeting, a way to circumvent the iron grip of the guild—this was the kind of opportunity I thrived on. But it also meant walking a tightrope, and I had to be prepared for anything.

I rifled through my things, deciding to swap out my fine clothing for something less conspicuous. I dressed in loose, baggy garments, the kind that would make me look like just another face in the city. Beneath the folds of fabric, I concealed subtle armor—nothing too obvious, but enough to give me an edge if things went south. I strapped on a few small weapons too, carefully hidden but easily accessible. I'd learned long ago that when you're walking into the unknown, it's best to be prepared.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. Gone was the master runewearer in his elegant attire, replaced by a man who looked like he belonged on the city's streets. Satisfied with my transformation, I stepped out of the room and made my way through the maze of the city streets.

The sun had just set by the time I reached the eatery opposite the auction house. The place was a small, tucked-away establishment that catered to the city's middle class—respectable enough not to raise suspicion but far from extravagant. Perfect for a discreet meeting.

I scanned the room as I entered, spotting her immediately. The young woman from earlier was sitting at a corner table, nursing a drink, her posture relaxed but alert. She saw me and gave a slight nod, gesturing for me to sit.

"You look the part," she said with a smirk as I took a seat across from her.

I shrugged, leaning back casually. "I aim to please."

The atmosphere was thick with the smell of roasted meat and bread, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air. My senses sharpened, every movement and glance from the patrons noted in the back of my mind. No one seemed to be paying us any particular attention, which suited me just fine.

"Who am I meeting?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

She sipped her drink before responding. "A fixer. Someone who operates in the spaces between the guilds. He has… ways of getting things done that don't necessarily require all the red tape."

"Sounds like my kind of person," I mused, though I made sure to keep my skepticism in check. "And what's in this for you?"

Her eyes glinted in the dim light. "Let's just say I have a personal interest in seeing someone shake things up. The guilds have too much power. I'm betting on you to be the one who challenges that."

"Betting, huh?" I smirked. "Hope you're ready for a long game."

She didn't answer, but her smile told me enough.

"You're in it for the money, aren't you?" I said, eyeing her as we walked. It wasn't a question, really. The whole situation reeked of opportunism. Not that I minded. People with hidden motives often worked harder when properly incentivized.

She shot me a quick glance, her lips curling into a smirk. "Ah, so you've seen through my facade," she replied, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "Yes, David, it's all about the money. The riches, the gold, the comfort—it's what drives us all, isn't it?"

I gave her a curt nod. "That's better. I prefer honesty, at least in this kind of arrangement."

She stopped, turned on her heel, and regarded me with something like amusement in her eyes. "Glad we understand each other." She straightened her coat and gestured down the street. "Well then, let's not keep the man waiting. It's never good to keep someone who operates in shadows impatient."

We began walking again, this time in silence. The city's main streets were bustling, full of noise and movement as people went about their evening business. The flicker of torches and lamps along the road gave the place a strange, almost enchanting glow, but I knew better than to let the quaint aesthetics fool me. The city was a labyrinth of power plays, alliances, and betrayals, all hiding behind polished facades.

We veered off the main road after a while, heading into what I first assumed was a more rundown part of the city. But I quickly realized I was mistaken. The streets narrowed, and the usual city riff-raff was nowhere to be seen. Instead, this was an entirely different world—a hidden layer beneath the outward grandeur.

The houses here were grand, massive even, with high walls protecting them from prying eyes. Thick stone gates, some of them carved with intricate runes, stood guard like sentinels. Wealth radiated from every structure, but it wasn't the showy type. This was old money—people who had learned that true wealth is more about security and discretion than flaunting it.

We walked through the backstreets that serviced these estates. The alleyways weren't dirty or dingy, but they were narrow, designed for the movement of goods and, apparently, the unseen service staff. Slaves and servants moved about, some carrying crates or supplies, others rushing between houses with determined, almost nervous looks. Even in this more hidden part of the city, the weight of the rich and powerful loomed large. The servants kept their heads down, whispering to each other in hushed tones as they passed.

I couldn't help but think about the stark contrast between this hidden world and the one just a few streets over, where merchants loudly peddled their goods and commoners bargained over prices. Here, everything was done quietly, efficiently. There was no need to shout when you controlled the levers of power.

"Interesting place to conduct backdoor deals," I muttered, half to myself.

She shot me a glance but didn't respond right away. It wasn't until we reached a quieter section of the alley that she finally spoke again. "Wealth always hides its dirty business in plain sight. It's safer this way. Fewer eyes to see, and those that do know to keep quiet."

I smirked. "And I suppose you know this place quite well?"

She nodded, her face growing more serious. "Well enough. You don't survive in this city without knowing how things work behind the scenes."

Her words had an edge, something that hinted at her own survival skills in a place like this. I couldn't help but wonder what her full story was. But prying wasn't my style—not unless it benefited me.

We arrived at what appeared to be the rear entrance of a large townhouse. The stone walls were high, but the gate itself looked surprisingly plain—if not for the well-maintained brass knocker. My guide approached it, rapping three times in a specific rhythm. We waited in silence. I could hear my own breathing, slow and measured, as I mentally prepared for whatever awaited inside.

The door opened without a sound, revealing a tall, thin man dressed in simple but fine clothing. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned us both. Without a word, he gestured for us to enter.

I stepped through the door and into a dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with tapestries that depicted long-forgotten battles and grand feasts. The smell of rich incense hung in the air, masking the mustiness that came with old, unventilated buildings.

"Follow me," the man said, his voice as smooth as the silk of his garments. He led us deeper into the house, through winding corridors and up a narrow flight of stairs, until we reached a door at the far end of a hallway. He knocked once before pushing it open, revealing a small, well-appointed room.

The room was dark, lit only by a single oil lamp casting flickering shadows across the old man's face. His eyes followed my every movement, assessing, weighing me like he might a piece of merchandise. But I could see past the pretense of his age—something was off. His fingers, though appearing withered and slow, moved with a dexterity that didn't fit his apparent frailty. It was subtle, but enough to put me on edge. I wasn't new to deception, especially in a place like this.

"Nice pieces you've got here," he said, his voice raspy but sharp. He gestured to the collection of rune-etched jewelry I had laid out before him. "But without a guild mark, they're worthless in this city." He looked up at me, his smile slow and deliberate. "Or at least, you won't be able to sell them without attracting... attention."

I remained silent, letting him play his hand. It was clear this man had power, but I wasn't going to bend easily. He leaned back, studying me as if calculating my worth, then his expression shifted. It was slight—barely a flicker—but the air in the room changed with it.

"You know," he began, his tone casual but laced with menace, "I could just take them. Rob you. It would be easier. No fuss, no messy paperwork." His fingers drummed the table, his eyes never leaving mine.

Ah, there it was. The familiar threat. In these backroom dealings, it was never just business. I knew the dance well—intimidation, power, and manipulation. But I wasn't some common merchant who stumbled into this world by accident. Slowly, I pulled back the collar of my cloak, revealing the subtle gleam of my reinforced armor beneath. Not just any armor—rune-infused, protective layers that shimmered faintly in the lamplight. I had been preparing for this very moment.

"Try it," I said quietly, my tone calm. The air between us grew thick as the tension settled in. "But you won't like how that ends."

His eyes widened ever so slightly, but there was a glimmer of something else—respect. I could see it creeping through the facade he had worn so carefully. The old man before me shifted, like watching a snake shed its skin. In a moment, the frail exterior faded away, replaced by a younger, stronger man. His appearance was almost startling—the same face, but sharper, more vivid. The illusion had disappeared, leaving behind someone with ancient eyes in a young man's body.

"Well, well," he said, sitting up straight now, his tone shifting from menace to something more akin to admiration. "It seems I underestimated you, Master Goodchild."

I raised an eyebrow. "That tends to happen."

He chuckled, a rich sound that filled the room. "I like that. A man who knows his own power but doesn't feel the need to flaunt it unnecessarily. You might fit in here after all." He stood, pacing behind his desk as if our conversation had taken on new life. "Let me introduce myself properly. The name is Aetius, though you'll not hear it spoken loudly in these parts."

Aetius. The name meant little to me at first, but the weight with which he said it told me everything I needed to know. He wasn't just another fence or minor dealer. He had power, real power, the kind that could make or break a man in this city.

"I think we've reached an understanding," Aetius said smoothly. "You, my friend, are not one to be trifled with, and I can respect that. So let's put the threats behind us, yes?"

I nodded, but I didn't let my guard down.

"You want to sell these," he gestured to my rune-etched items. "And I can help with that. The guild mark issue... well, let's just say I know people who can make that disappear. For a price, of course."

"Of course," I replied, my tone dry. "And what's the price?"

Aetius smiled again, but this time it was all business. "There's a fixed fee for each piece. The more intricate the item, the better for you as the price is the same. But the important thing is the reputation. Once you're in, and these items are circulating under a proper guild mark, people will associate quality with your work. That's valuable. You'll be known, even if you're hidden."

He paused, letting the weight of his offer settle in. I considered it for a moment. It was a steep price, but reputation in a city like this was everything. And I had to start somewhere.

"I'll take it," I said.

"Good," Aetius replied, clapping his hands together. "Then we'll begin with these." He motioned to the items on the table. "I'll make the arrangements for their sale. You'll get your payment in gold, all under the table. Clean and quiet. We'll be making money together before long."

We finalized the details, and I made a mental note of everything. This man—Aetius—was dangerous, but useful. The kind of ally I could tolerate for now, as long as our interests aligned. He handed me a small token, a mark of our deal. "If anyone asks, just show them this. It'll get you back to me."

As I left the building, following the narrow alleyways back toward the more familiar streets, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. I had made a deal, but now I had to live with the consequences.

The city was alive around me, the noise of the late evening rising as people moved in the shadows, conducting their own business under the cloak of darkness. By the time I reached the inn, the streets were quieter, the distant clatter of horse hooves echoing faintly against the stone.

Valeria's parting words still echoed in my mind. She had left me to fend for myself in this web of deceit, bureaucracy, and hidden power. I could almost hear her laughing at the idea of me navigating the city's labyrinth without her help. But I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of watching me fail.

I walked up the stairs to my room, the weight of the day heavy on my shoulders but not unpleasant. I had made progress, albeit outside the legal channels. This city had its rules, and I was more than willing to bend them. As I entered my room, the smell of the old wooden floorboards greeted me. It was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

After securing the door, I placed a few runes around the room, ones I had designed specifically to alert me if anyone tried anything clever while I slept. It was a simple precaution, but a necessary one.

I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out the token Aetius had given me. It was small, almost insignificant-looking, but I knew better than to underestimate its value. In this city, tokens like these could be the difference between life and death—or at the very least, between success and obscurity.

Valeria had called this a trial. A test to see if I could navigate this world and come out on top. Well, I had always liked challenges. But she hadn't accounted for one thing—I wasn't just here to survive. I was here to win.

And now, I had a plan or the start of a plan.

The moonlight streamed through the narrow window, casting faint patterns on the floor. I slipped the token back into my pocket, leaning back on the bed. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight... tonight, I'd sleep well, knowing I had made my first move in this game.

Let the others play by the rules if they wanted. I'd make my own.