As Cael finished explaining the four main districts, a question nagged at me.

  "You mentioned the nobles, scholars, merchants, and craftsmen," I said, keeping pace beside him. "But what about the normal people? The ones who aren’t rich or important? Where do they live?"

  Cael didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flicked toward the crowded streets, where children weaved between merchants, their faces smudged with dirt, their hands quick as they reached for unattended goods. Some were caught instantly, punished with harsh shouts and a cuff to the head. Others disappeared into the crowd, slipping through like shadows.

  Finally, he spoke.

  "The mid-class citizens live in the Outer Districts. It’s not officially called that, but that’s what people say. It’s spread around the edges of the Merchant and Industrial Districts. Workers, shopkeepers, apprentices… they all settle there. It’s safe enough, but the moment you drop too far—"

  He gestured toward a narrow alleyway between two tightly packed buildings, its entrance swallowed in shadows.

  "—you end up in the Lowtown Slums."

  I frowned, following his gaze.

  Past the bustling main streets, the edges of the city became grittier. The buildings were older, patched up with scrap wood and metal. Laundry hung from windows, and makeshift tents sprawled in tight corners. The people here moved differently—wary, sharp-eyed, hands tucked under cloaks or hidden in pockets.

  "The slums stretch along the outer walls of Vaeloria," Cael continued. "Most of the poor and unwanted end up there. No one really governs it, and the city doesn’t bother controlling it. If you live in Lowtown, you fend for yourself."

  A group of kids ran past us, laughing as they ducked into an alley, their feet bare, their clothes torn. A moment later, an angry merchant stormed after them, cursing about stolen bread.

  I exhaled, shaking my head. "So even in a city this grand, people still struggle to survive."

  Cael glanced at me. "That surprise you?"

  "No," I admitted. "Just pisses me off."

  He gave a small, knowing smirk but didn’t say anything.

  As we moved away from the slums, Cael led me toward a less chaotic street on the border between the Merchant and Industrial Districts.

  "We’ll find you a place to stay here," he said. "Somewhere quiet, cheap, and unremarkable."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Unremarkable?"

  He shot me a pointed look. "You want to keep that arm hidden, right?"

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.

  After a few more turns, we arrived at a modest-looking inn. The sign above the door was worn, the letters slightly faded—The Rusted Anvil.

  Not the fanciest name, but it looked sturdy. Built from stone and reinforced wood, the structure was old but well-kept. A faint glow from the windows cast a warm light onto the street.

  Cael pushed open the door, stepping inside.

  The scent of roasted meat and ale filled the air, the soft hum of conversation settling in the background. A few patrons sat at round tables, eating or playing cards. The innkeeper, a gruff-looking woman with silver-streaked hair, glanced up from behind the counter.

  Cael approached her. "We need a room."

  She eyed him, then flicked her gaze toward me.

  "Long stay or short?"

  Cael shrugged. "A few weeks, at least."

  She nodded, rubbing her chin. "Fifteen silvers per week. Food’s extra."

  I glanced at Cael, but he had already pulled out a small pouch and dropped the coins onto the counter.

  "That should cover a month."

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  I raised an eyebrow. "You’re paying for me?"

  Cael smirked slightly. "You’ll pay me back eventually."

  Somehow, that didn’t sound like a favor.

  The innkeeper took the coins, grabbed a metal key from the wall, and handed it to me. "Second floor, last room on the left. Don’t cause trouble."

  I took the key with a nod.

  Cael turned to leave. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, I’ll show you more of the city."

  Before I could respond, he was already gone.

  I climbed the stairs, stepping into my new room.

  It was simple—a single bed, a small desk, a wooden chest for storage. A window overlooked the streets below, where the glow of lanterns flickered in the growing night.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, flexing my left arm.

  Even wrapped in cloth, I could still feel the corruption beneath. The faint, pulsing energy. The ache that refused to disappear.

  I let out a slow breath.

  Vaeloria was massive. Overwhelming. Dangerous.

  But if I wanted answers, power, and a way forward—

  This was the place to start.

  The Rusted Anvil was quiet that night, the soft hum of conversation downstairs fading as the evening deepened. My room, though small, was comfortable enough, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind buzzed with too many thoughts, too many unanswered questions.

  So the next morning, when Cael arrived, I was ready.

  We sat in the inn’s lower floor, where a simple breakfast of bread, eggs, and dried meat sat between us. I wasn’t hungry—not really—but I needed answers.

  I leaned forward. "Alright. I’ve been holding back for a while, but I need to ask some things.First—currency. I saw you hand over silver yesterday, but I have no idea what the money system even is."

  Cael took a slow bite of his food, chewed, then sighed like he knew this conversation was coming.

  "Simple enough," he said. "The Kingdom of Eryndor uses three main types of currency—Copper, Silver, and Gold Crowns. Most people deal in copper and silver. Gold is for the wealthy."

  I nodded. "How does it convert?"

  "Roughly 100 Copper Crowns make 1 Silver. 100 Silver makes 1 Gold. But the value changes depending on where you are. In villages, a silver coin can feed a family for a week. In Vaeloria? It won’t even get you a proper meal in the Noble District."

  I frowned. "So a gold coin is a fortune."

  "To most, yes. But to the powerful? It’s pocket change."

  Of course. The rich hoarding wealth was a universal concept.

  I exhaled. "Alright, next question—the Universal Records."

  At this, Cael’s expression darkened slightly.

  "I’ve heard the name tossed around a lot," I continued. "And I know it dictates power and skill trees, but I don’t actually know what it is."

  Cael studied me for a moment. Then, he spoke.

  "The Universal Records are the foundation of the world itself," he said. "It’s an omniscient force that dictates power, progression, and history. Every warrior, mage, or faction has their abilities recorded within it. Those who are blessed by it gain skill trees, abilities, and progression paths suited to their natural talent."

  I frowned. "So it’s like a… living record of everything?"

  "In a way." Cael leaned back. "No one truly understands it. Scholars have studied it for centuries, but no one has ever seen the Records themselves. They only feel its presence. It’s why people train, why they seek power—to be acknowledged."

  I stiffened slightly.

  I had never been acknowledged by the Universal Records.

  Instead, I had this glitched, corrupted system.

  I swallowed, forcing myself to stay calm. "Then, how do people gain access to their skills? Does it just… happen?"

  "It depends. Some are born with blessings, awakening abilities from childhood. Others have to train rigorously before they’re recognized. And then there are the ones who undergo faction rituals to bind themselves to a skill tree."

  That caught my attention.

  "Factions?"

  Cael nodded. "There are six major factions in Eryndor. They each control a different path of power."

  Cael counted them off, his voice steady.

  

  
1. Verdant Circle – Nature magic, healing, beast communication. Primarily made up of elves and druids.


  
2. Obsidian Veil – Stealth, assassination, shadow magic. Operates in the underworld.


  
3. Emberforge Covenant – Fire manipulation, craftsmanship, and combat. Blacksmiths and warriors.


  
4. Azure Sanctum – Water magic, healing, divination. Scholars and mages.


  
5. Ironclad Dominion – Metal manipulation, defense, and engineering. The best weapons and armor come from them.


  
6. Celestial Chorus – Light magic, healing, divine power. Priests and holy warriors.


  

  "Every strong individual belongs to one of these factions," Cael continued. "They provide resources, training, and skill tree advancement. If you’re not part of one, you’re at a disadvantage."

  I exhaled slowly.

  "So, what about you?" I asked. "Are you part of one?"

  Cael smirked slightly. "I was. Not anymore."

  That answer only gave me more questions, but something told me I wasn’t getting any more out of him about that.

  I tapped my fingers on the table, processing everything. But then, a final question slipped out.

  "What happens to those who aren’t recognized by the Records?"

  Cael’s smirk faded.

  "They struggle," he said simply. "Without the Universal Records’ acknowledgment, progression is slow, unstable. The strongest in this world are those who follow the system laid out for them."

  I swallowed.

  "And those who don’t?"

  Cael met my gaze.

  "They either become nothing… or something far worse."

  A shiver crawled up my spine.

  I had never been recognized by the Universal Records.

  I wasn’t sure which category I was falling into.

  But something told me I was heading toward "far worse."

  I had no skill tree or anything. Maybe collecting the Record Fragments the system spoke about could help.