The city square was filled with people. Everywhere you looked, there was a stall with a merchant behind it, vying for attention.

  The square was sectioned off, placing certain merchants in specific areas to avoid confusing buyers or sellers. Near the left side were trinket and artifact sellers. Small pieces of jewelry, gems, baubles, and curios were up for sale. Near the center were miscellaneous and convenience items, such as fabrics, games, books, and household tools.

  On the right side of the square, three individuals merrily shopped around. The shortest of the three had stopped at a small stall, drawn in by the most deliciously pleasant aroma she had ever experienced. Her wide, sparkling eyes lit up like the sun as she stared ahead.

  “C-Can I have a stick, Mr. Shop?” Enya asked nervously, her focus wavering. Her hands gripped the edges of the counter, and her chin rested on top, her gaze locked on the skewers roasting behind the man.

  “Sure thing! One skewer coming up!” responded the man in a hearty voice. He was bald, broad-shouldered, and carried a boisterous yet friendly air. Reaching behind him, he plucked a roasted meat skewer from the rack. As he lifted it up, Enya's eyes widened, and her breath hitched. Golden brown, glistening, and crisped just enough to release a smoky, savory scent—it was the most perfect treasure she had ever seen.

  The man leaned forward, offering the mystical skewer. The steam emanating from it trailed in the air as it moved, like a slithering snake.

  “Th-thank you!” Enya stammered, her words tumbling out eagerly, as if in sync with her hunger. She grabbed the wooden stick and brought it close to her face, the hot steam warming her cheeks.

  “Haha, make sure to blow on it first. It’s still quite hot,” the man said with a warm chuckle, his voice radiating joy and care.

  Enya glanced up at him briefly, nodding with an enthusiasm that sent her bob-cut hair bouncing wildly. She blew on the skewer carefully, her cheeks puffing out as she did so. Each puff of air sent trails of steam curling upward, disappearing into the air before reappearing moments later.

  The man turned his attention to the two older companions flanking the little girl. He gestured toward the rest of his skewer rack with a broad smile. “Skewers? Only two copper apiece,” he said.

  “I’ll take two!” Berry chimed, as she dug into her coin pouch.

  “I’m good for now, but thank you,” Manny replied with a polite shake of his head.

  Meanwhile, Enya had finally deemed the skewer safe to eat. She took a cautious nibble, testing the heat—and her eyes widened. A burst of rich, smoky, spiced flavor filled her mouth, drawing an involuntary squeak of delight. The crispy, charred edges crunched beneath her teeth, giving way to the juicy meat that practically melted on her tongue.

  She took another bite, this one less cautious than the first. Each bite tasted better than the last, and soon, everything else faded away—the bustling square, the buskers playing their tunes for coins, and even her own companions. For those few bites, it was just her and the heavenly gift of flavor.

  Berry nudged her shoulder, holding one of her own skewers. “Good, huh?” she asked with a grin, already mid-bite.

  Enya nodded furiously, her cheeks stuffed full. “Mmhmm!”

  She hadn’t known food could taste like this. Back at Pell’s shop, the only thing she’d had were dusty, four-year-old rationed cans of rabbit meat. The meat had been gamey, tough, and leathery—so bad it made her feel like she was chewing on a zombie’s arm. If not for her desperate need to survive, she wouldn’t have eaten it at all.

  The roasted boar meat she’d eaten in the forest had been a step up—but Mr. Bones was an awful cook. Instead of leathery, it had been burnt and hard, a lump of charred boar she’d forced herself to swallow. It was better than the rabbit meat, but compared to the skewer in front of her? There was no contest.

  The man laughed at the sight of her enthusiasm. “Always nice to see someone enjoying good food. I make these skewers with love, you know!”

  And for a fleeting moment, in the bustling city square, love tasted like roasted meat on a stick.

  “I’ll pay for her skewer,” Manny said, gesturing toward Enya as he passed two coppers to the man.

  “Thank you, Mr. Shop!” Enya waved her half-eaten skewer in a gesture of gratitude as they walked away. The man chuckled and waved back. “Come back again! There’ll always be more skewers!”

  The three of them continued strolling through the square, browsing the various merchants and their wares.

  “Say, do your skeletons need to eat anything? Obviously not food, but mana or something? I’m curious how they work,” Manny asked.

  Enya took another bite of her skewer before answering. “No, they can just stay at the inn and be fine without anything. They were made with my mana, and I haven’t seen any of them disappear or anything. I think they can probably live forever as long as they still have mana inside them.”

  After the combat test she’d taken to measure her abilities, walking around with three skeletons had felt both conspicuous and inconvenient. So, they’d stopped by the inn, where Enya got permission from Sheryl to house them in their room. It had taken some convincing to explain that they were summons, and not actually paying guests. Sheryl finally agreed, but only if Enya promised they wouldn’t cause any trouble.

  “Is Pell the same?” Berry asked, biting into her second skewer. Her first one had long since disappeared.

  Enya tilted her head thoughtfully. Now that she considered it, she wasn’t sure how Pell was still alive. Her skeleton minions were sustained by the mana she’d imbued into them, but Pell? His soul had been transferred from the dungeon, so he shouldn’t be connected to it anymore.

  Was Pell just functionally immortal, living without any need for mana? She was pretty sure his mana regenerated, just like hers.

  “Um, excuse me,” came a voice from behind.

  The three of them turned around to find a man in a black suit standing before them. His suit was crinkled and carelessly tossed on, and his short black hair was ruffled and frazzled. On the upper left of his chest were sigils and badges, similar to the ones the gate guards had worn. His droopy eyes gave him a bored, lazy look as he focused directly on Enya.

  “Are you Miss Enya, by chance?” he asked.

  “Yeah?” Enya replied.

  “Something wrong?” Manny chimed in.

  “We currently have a person under arrest and being questioned at the city jail. They requested that a young noble girl traveling with two teenagers come by to help clear things up,” the man answered flatly.

  “Is he a skeleton, by chance?” Berry asked.

  The official’s expression didn’t change. “Yep. Skeleton guy. Kept cursing at the guards and the city’s War Paragons.”

  Berry glanced down at Enya.

  Enya let out a sigh and gave a little shrug. “That sounds like Pell, alright,” she said. “I’m done with my skewer anyway. Can we go and save Pell real quick?” She looked from Berry to Manny.

  The siblings exchanged confused glances.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Uh, sure, I guess.” Manny replied.

  To the siblings, Enya and Pell were still strangers, and they were only interacting right now because Berry was too out-going. It was unsettling to hear that one of them had been arrested. They both knew very little about the duo, except that they were both quite odd—a skeleton that wasn’t a summon, and a noble girl who had decided to become a necromancer.

  “Why was Pell arrested?” Berry asked the man.

  He simply shrugged. “Something about terrorizing a man and his two nephews,” he said.

  “How many goddamn times do I have to tell you that those stupid oafs attacked me, not the other way around?” Pell shouted. He was currently in a white interrogation room, sitting unrestrained at a table. His lock remained secured to his arm, but aside from that, there were no other bindings. Of course, the room itself was all the restraint most people needed.

  Talo’s buildings and much of its architecture were crafted from magic-imbued stone. Each piece of the white stone that formed its walls and ceilings was exceptionally strong, denser than ordinary stone. A person who could punch through a regular wall would find Talo’s walls a far greater challenge. And thanks to their magical properties, they could be repaired with just a touch of mana.

  The room Pell sat in was built with extra-thick, mana-rich, imbued stone. Specifically, the walls were made of magically crystallized stone, which gave them a slight sheen without the need for lights. Escape was impossible; simply being in the room made sure of that.

  “Unfortunately, your version of events differs from that of Mr. Hendel,” said the man sitting across from Pell, his tone skeptical. “His young nephew’s lower leg is broken, while you suffered no injuries from this supposed three-man attack. Skeletons aren’t that strong. It’s obvious you sneak-attacked them. Otherwise, there’s no way you could have taken on Mr. Hendel and his nephews all alone—and without magic.”

  The city official seated across from Pell was a War Paragon, as indicated by the insignias on his uniform. He was not one of the guards who had arrived on the scene earlier but seemed to hold a higher rank, working directly at the city jail.

  His voice was coarse and rigid, carrying an air of haughtiness, like Pell was speaking to a noble—a noble with considerable power. The man was roughly the same height as Pell, possibly shorter, though the black uniform he wore hinted at a toned physique beneath it. What stood out most, however, were his distinctly draconic features: large claws, red horns, leathery wings, and a thick, scaled tail. This man was a Draconid.

  “Of course those three scumbags are lying!” Pell snapped. “If they attacked me and lost in the process, obviously they’d spin their own story! I don’t even know how I broke that kid’s leg—I was just trying to kick him away. I’m not about to let some snot-nosed brat try to kill me over a few measly experience points!”

  “Spinning a story, huh? The same could be said for you. They informed us that you had recently come into a massive amount of debt. They suspect you’ve been lying in wait for someone to be isolated, and then you attacked them. Before you could do any more harm, the War Paragons arrived just in time,” came his relaxed reply.

  Pell slammed his fist onto the wooden table. His soul flames flared, almost filling the empty space within his skull. “Yes! I came into debt—the whole damn guild knows about it! You can even ask that long-eared clerk if our conversation could have been overheard by the whole damn place!” Pell continued, his frustration rising. “And no, I left before those three grunts showed up, and I was on my way to the information guild. They ambushed me and tried to kill me for experience!”

  The Draconid sighed, though it sounded more like a deep growl. “See, that’s the problem with your story. You keep saying they attacked you, not for money, but for experience?” he said, his patience wearing thin. “First off, that’s the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard. Those boys are fledgling adventurers. It’s a terrible risk to attack someone in the city for experience when they’re so inexperienced themselves. Their first guild quests would’ve been herb collection, not monster fighting. There’s no reason for them to risk their lives. Besides, the experience a skeleton grants is downright pitiful.” His vertical pupils seemed to leer at Pell as he finished his words.

  If Pell still had human skin, the veins on it would’ve been bulging. The arrogant Draconid was clearly locked into his own version of events, refusing to take Pell’s words seriously. He didn’t care to consider any alternative. And that last line—about the “pitiful” experience—while probably true, deeply offended him for some reason.

  “You listen here, you red-scaled rat. You’re awfully stupid if you think—“

  Pell’s words were cut off as the table in front of him shattered into splinters. A blast of pressure knocked him back a couple of feet, and his back slammed into the wall. For a moment, the world in his eyes blurred, as if he’d been violently teleported.

  In that split second of interruption, the Draconid stood up, smashed through the table, and was now holding Pell upright by his skeletal throat. His wings flared out, large and spanning the room. The slitted pupils in the dragon hybrid’s face tightened as he looked at Pell like he was insignificant prey.

  “Listen, you arrogant, disrespectful, insignificant trash made of bones. I don’t know why I’m even giving you the benefit of the doubt and letting you spew your nonsense. We have a frazzled man and a kid with a broken leg. I don’t know why those guards at the gate let a monster like you into the city, but you’re going to regret entering. Quite frankly, I don’t care about your little noble companion anymore. I’m dragging you to the prison cells and executing you there myself before they even arrive. If your representative shows up, I’ll just explain that you tried to escape.”

  Once his words were finished, the world inside Pell’s sockets shifted once more. He was flipped and sent crashing straight into the ground, landing hard on his back. The impact caused several of his bones to splinter and fracture. He couldn’t even utter a word; everything happened too quickly. Immediately following this, the Draconid began to drag Pell out of the chamber by his spinal cord, hauling him down the halls. They were headed to the jail cells, deep within the building’s depths.

  Enya, the two siblings, and the rather bored-looking city official entered the lobby of the city hall. It was neat and tidy, built from the same white stone as every other building in town. However, the sheer white sparkle of the building was almost blinding.

  Inside, the lobby was circular, with two counters to the left. In front was a staircase that led both up and downstairs. Shining light fixtures hung high above, several dozen feet up, as the lobby expanded into an open-air space that stretched to the second story of the building.

  Josier, the official who had called out to Enya, took the lead and led them here. He was the first to enter the lobby and immediately went to the counter. There, an older lady—very short in stature—sat on a stool, chatting with another worker behind her.

  “Shelmi, I’ve brought that skeleton guy’s representative,” Josier said, tapping on the counter to get her attention.

  “Huh?” she replied, turning around and cutting off her conversation. “Ah, Josier. And…” she spoke, her voice craggy and deep, like she hadn’t had a drink of water in weeks.

  Josier pointed to Enya, who was now walking up behind him, sandwiched between the twins. “The little girl there is the Enya person he requested for.”

  “Eh? He called for a young girl and not someone… taller?” she said, then, leaning past Josier as far as she could, and added, “No offense, kiddo.”

  “I’ll grow taller!” Enya exclaimed. “I’m sure you can too!”

  The room went silent for a brief moment. Manny leaned down and whispered into Enya’s ear, “Enya, that lady’s a dwarf. They can’t really grow any taller than that.” She looked up at him, then swapped her gaze back to Shelmi. “Uh… then I’ll grow taller by myself!”

  A boisterous laugh came from behind the clerk. Shelmi’s laugh carried an immense weight, as if ten people were laughing at once. She slapped her palm on the counter. “I like you, kid. Keep that innocence up. The world’ll make you lose it pretty quickly, ‘specially if you’re a noble,” she said, finishing her chuckle.

  She turned around and motioned for the other worker to go somewhere else. He was a younger man, clearly new, judging by his nervous inflections and stiff movements. Shelmi turned back around to face them. “I see the young one doesn’t have a lock. I assume she’s a big shot, then?” she asked.

  Josier turned from her and took a peek at Enya. His eyes motioned to her arms. “Huh. You’re right. I didn’t notice it the first time,” he said. “Hey, Miss Enya, under whose noble house are you a part of? There are very few that can go around town without a lock here.” A flicker of intrigue crossed his face, breaking through the indifferent boredom that was usually on his face.

  Enya froze for a moment, considering her answer.

  Should she say her real family name? That would probably help with settling the situation. However, she had already given it to the instructors back at the academy, and truth be told, she was feeling a bit guilty about that. Pell had warned her not to give out her identity too often but noted that some officials were fine, as they would keep quiet. But did teachers at the academy count? Would she be okay giving her name out here too?

  Her only other option was using Pell’s last name: Enya Meltere, the name she was registering for the tournament under. However, Pell wasn’t a noble. The two people here probably wouldn’t recognize or even believe her. There was also the problem of whether it was okay to let Berry and Manny know about her name, too.

  She could ask them to do another blood scan on her, but that meant that they needed to get her blood by using a need—

  “I’m Enya E—“ Before Enya could shout out her full name, there was a ping in her mind. A silent ping. Not one that denoted something important like her mana running out or learning a new skill. It was more of a passive notification, signaling a change in something, but not directly pertinent to her current situation or status.

  She stopped mid-sentence and willed her status screen up for a brief moment. There was no personal system notification. However, something else popped up. Her eyes creased as she stared at the party menu.

  “Pell… w-why is… why is Pell’s health so low?”

  Party Member [Pell] has received critical damage.

  Pell’s Party:

  [Pell] Health: 22/100

  [Enya] Health: 100/100