The first thing Soma Locke learned about traveling with Captain Jaspar was that the man had absolutely no appreciation for comfortable silence.
The second was that asking too many questions apparently qualified as an invitation to be insulted.
"Stop fidgeting."
"I'm looking out the window."
"Then do it without trying to crawl through the damned thing."
Soma settled back against the leather seat, folding his arms.
"You're remarkably unpleasant for someone whose profession involves educating children."
Jaspar didn't even glance at him.
"And you're remarkably talkative for someone who's supposed to be observing."
Across the carriage, Samantha pressed her lips together.
Soma noticed.
"Don't laugh."
"I'm not."
"You're doing that thing with your mouth."
"What thing?"
"The one where you're desperately trying not to laugh."
Samantha turned toward the window.
Jaspar snorted.
"Gods help me. I've been saddled with two children."
"Three," Soma replied. "You're the largest."
That earned him a sharp look.
Samantha lost the battle entirely.
Her laughter filled the carriage as the convoy rolled through the immaculate avenues surrounding Highmere's royal district.
Outside, the capital gleamed beneath the morning sun.
Towering white walls surrounded the royal estates, their smooth surfaces decorated with intricate carvings depicting the history of Arcaelis. Banners bearing the royal crest fluttered from slender watchtowers, and polished stone avenues curved between magnificent buildings with sweeping balconies and stained-glass windows.
Every intersection seemed carefully planned. Ornamental trees provided shade for broad pedestrian walkways, while enchanted fountains sent ribbons of crystal-clear water into the air.
Even the air smelled expensive.
Freshly baked pastries drifted from elegant cafés, mingling with the fragrances of imported flowers and perfumes displayed beneath colorful merchant awnings.
Soma leaned forward again, studying the passing storefronts.
He'd visited parts of the city before, usually accompanied by his father or older siblings, but those excursions had followed carefully selected routes.
Today, the convoy continued deeper into the commercial districts.
They passed a sprawling building constructed from polished black marble, with enormous glass doors framed in gold.
The Merchants Guild.
Heavy wagons waited beneath its covered loading platforms while uniformed clerks inspected cargo manifests displayed on thin, luminous tablets. Armed escorts supervised the movement of expensive goods, and merchants argued over prices beneath the building's impressive colonnade.
Soma recognized several company crests from his studies with Stephan.
"That's the eastern trade consortium," he murmured.
Jaspar glanced toward the window.
"How do you know?"
"The wagons. Their crest represents three mountain peaks above a silver river. They handle much of the ore transport from Ironvale."
"Good."
Soma looked at him.
"Was that a compliment?"
"Don't make me regret it."
The captain pointed toward a group of workers unloading wooden crates.
"What do you notice?"
Soma studied them.
"Six laborers. Two clerks. Four armed guards. The cargo is probably valuable, considering the security."
"And?"
"The workers are moving quickly."
"Why?"
Soma watched more closely. One laborer struggled beneath a crate while a supervisor shouted something he couldn't hear through the carriage window.
"Because they're being rushed."
Jaspar nodded.
"Remember that."
Before Soma could ask what he meant, the carriage passed the guild.
Across the avenue stood another building, one that immediately captured his attention.
Five stories of reinforced stone rose above the surrounding rooftops. Massive oak doors stood open beneath an iron emblem depicting a sword crossed over a shield.
The Adventurers Guild.
Soma practically pressed his nose against the glass.
"That's the headquarters!"
Samantha smiled.
"I suspected you'd recognize it."
Of course he recognized it.
He'd spent years listening to stories about the guild's expeditions. Legendary monsters, ancient ruins, dangerous forests, missing caravans, and the occasional adventurer who returned with enough treasure to purchase an estate.
Men and women carrying an astonishing variety of weapons moved through the entrance. Some wore polished armor bearing recognizable guild insignias. Others looked as though they hadn't bathed in several days.
One enormous beastfolk adventurer carried a battleaxe nearly as tall as Soma.
Another walked beside a creature resembling a wolf with crystalline growths along its spine.
Soma watched in fascination.
Jaspar followed his gaze.
"Impressive, aren't they?"
"Yes."
"Think you'd like to join them someday?"
Soma hesitated.
"I'd like to understand what they do."
"That's a careful answer."
"It's an honest one."
Jaspar leaned back.
"Good. Keep it that way."
The change happened so gradually that Soma almost missed it.
The broad avenues narrowed. The elegant buildings grew closer together, their balconies extending over streets crowded with carts, pedestrians, and delivery wagons.
The polished white stone gave way to older cobblestones.
Then the cobblestones disappeared beneath patched stretches of hard-packed earth.
A particularly deep rut jolted the carriage so violently that Samantha grabbed the seat.
"Good heavens!"
Soma braced himself against the window frame.
"Did we run over something?"
"Only the road," Jaspar replied.
Outside, Highmere no longer resembled the beautiful capital depicted in the books his father kept in the royal library.
The buildings were smaller here, their walls stained by smoke and years of neglect. Several roofs sagged beneath makeshift repairs, and rainwater collected in muddy channels beside the streets.
Children moved between market stalls wearing patched clothing. Laborers pushed heavy carts through the crowded avenues while street vendors shouted prices over one another.
The smell changed as well.
Perfume and fresh bread faded beneath the odors of damp wood, coal smoke, livestock, and refuse.
Soma watched a woman carrying a large basket of laundry struggle past a broken drainage channel.
A small child followed behind her, clutching the end of her apron.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"The outer market neighborhoods," Jaspar answered. "Close to the older barracks and laborers' housing."
Soma frowned.
"I've seen maps of this area."
"Have you?"
"Of course."
"Then tell me what they showed you."
He thought for a moment.
"Residential streets. Workshops. Supply depots. Several public markets."
"And?"
"A military supply route connecting the outer gate to the training grounds."
Jaspar gestured toward the window.
"Did those maps show you that?"
A man sat beside a damaged cart, examining a broken wheel. His hands were blackened with grease, and his clothing had been patched so many times that Soma struggled to identify its original color.
Nearby, two children argued over a small piece of bread.
Their mother separated it into smaller portions before handing it back.
Soma stared.
"No."
"Then the maps weren't telling you everything."
For several moments, the only sound inside the carriage was the rattle of wheels.
Samantha looked out the opposite window, her expression unusually subdued.
Soma had lived in Highmere his entire life.
He had studied its streets, districts, population estimates, trade systems, and military infrastructure. He knew where the major guilds operated and how goods entered the capital.
Yet he'd never truly understood how different life could be only a short distance from Locke Manor.
"Why haven't these roads been repaired?" he asked.
Jaspar shrugged.
"Ask your father."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the most useful one I can give you."
Soma turned toward him.
"You're telling me the kingdom can afford marble fountains in the noble quarter, but not proper roads here?"
"I'm telling you to look at what you see before deciding what it means."
Soma frowned.
Jaspar continued.
"Roads cost money. So do repairs, drainage, guards, sanitation, and everything else people expect a city to provide. Some neighborhoods receive more funding than others. Sometimes it's corruption. Sometimes it's incompetence. Sometimes there's a legitimate reason that still leaves people suffering."
He leaned forward.
"You want to understand why this street looks like shit? Find out who maintains it, what funding they receive, and where that money actually goes."
Soma glanced outside again.
That was different from simply declaring the situation unfair.
It demanded evidence.
And responsibility.
They continued through the crowded neighborhood until the convoy slowed near a public market.
A boy not much older than Soma was unloading sacks from a wagon. His clothes were worn, his arms thin, and his face streaked with dirt.
An older man shouted at him to hurry.
The boy lifted another sack.
His knees buckled slightly beneath its weight.
Soma leaned closer to the window.
"He's too young for that."
"Probably," Jaspar said.
"Then why is he doing it?"
"Perhaps his family needs the money."
"Surely he could attend school instead."
Jaspar looked at him.
"With what money?"
Soma opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
His own education involved private tutors, an enormous library, and instructors personally selected by one of the most powerful men in the kingdom.
He'd never questioned whether he could afford to learn.
The possibility simply hadn't existed.
"Most people don't have what you have, Soma," Jaspar said.
His tone wasn't accusing.
That somehow made it worse.
"You were born into a powerful family. That isn't something you need to apologize for. But if you want to become the sort of man others trust, you'd better understand what their lives actually look like."
Soma studied the boy outside.
"What about the Adventurers Guild?"
Jaspar raised an eyebrow.
"What about it?"
"Couldn't someone like him become an adventurer? Earn enough money to help his family?"
"Maybe. If he survives."
Soma looked back.
The captain's expression hardened.
"You've read the stories. Brave adventurers defeating monsters, finding treasure, earning titles. Wonderful. But those stories don't spend much time describing the ones who never return."
He pointed toward a small apothecary squeezed between two workshops.
"Someone's child gets sick. They need a particular herb, but the local healer doesn't have it. They can't afford the Cathedral's fees, so they pool whatever coins they've saved and post a request at the guild."
Soma listened silently.
"An adventurer accepts the job. Maybe it's easy. Maybe the herb grows somewhere a beast has settled. Maybe the adventurer gets hurt bringing it back."
"And if the adventurer dies?"
"The family might never get its medicine."
Soma looked down.
Jaspar continued.
"Adventuring isn't always about glory. Sometimes it's people risking their lives because somebody else is desperate enough to pay them."
That hadn't been the version Soma imagined when reading the heroic chronicles in his library.
Yet it made an uncomfortable amount of sense.
"Then shouldn't adventurers receive more protection?" he asked.
"Sure."
"Better equipment? Reliable information about the dangers they're facing?"
"Absolutely."
"Then why don't they?"
Jaspar gave him a humorless smile.
"Now you're asking useful questions."
The convoy eventually passed through a narrow street lined with small workshops.
A smith hammered glowing metal beneath a soot-blackened awning. A woman repaired leather harnesses at a bench while two apprentices sorted damaged buckles into wooden trays.
Outside another workshop, an elderly man carefully fitted a new wheel onto a farmer's wagon.
Soma watched the activity with renewed interest.
There was something remarkable about the amount of skilled work happening in such a modest neighborhood.
"That blacksmith's using a different hammer than the ones in Igor's equipment shed," he observed.
Jaspar glanced outside.
"That's because he's shaping metal, not repairing armor."
Soma watched the smith's movements.
The man adjusted his grip, turned the glowing metal, and struck again.
Each motion appeared deliberate.
"He's good."
"Very."
"Then why is his workshop so small?"
Jaspar looked at him.
"Would a larger building make him a better smith?"
"No."
"Then stop measuring people's worth by the things they own."
Soma winced slightly.
"That wasn't what I meant."
"I know. But it's how you sounded."
Samantha shifted beside him.
"Captain, I think he's beginning to understand."
Jaspar glanced at her.
"Good. That's the point."
Soma returned his attention to the window.
He realized how often his descriptions of people came from noble records, military reports, and historical accounts.
A merchant was wealthy or unsuccessful.
A smith was renowned or ordinary.
An adventurer was heroic or incompetent.
Those classifications were convenient.
They were also incomplete.
The world outside his books seemed considerably more complicated than the one inside them.
As the convoy approached the city's outer gates, the streets widened again.
Massive white walls rose ahead, reinforced by towering gates and defensive platforms. Soldiers stood at attention beneath banners bearing the royal crest.
The difference between this military infrastructure and the neglected neighborhoods they'd just passed was striking.
Soma studied the fortifications.
"Captain?"
"What?"
"You said nobles sometimes have to send ordinary people into danger to protect the kingdom."
Jaspar's expression changed slightly.
"That's right."
"How do you ask someone to risk their life for a system that might not be treating them fairly?"
For the first time that morning, the veteran didn't answer immediately.
He looked through the window at the guards stationed above the gate.
"Sometimes," he said at last, "you don't ask."
Soma turned toward him.
Jaspar's voice had grown quieter.
"Sometimes you give an order because the enemy won't wait for you to explain why it matters. And sometimes good people die following that order."
Samantha lowered her gaze.
"But if you think a uniform or a noble title makes that easy," Jaspar continued, "you're a damned fool."
He looked directly at Soma.
"Every soldier has a life outside the battlefield. Parents. Children. Someone waiting for them to come home. A commander who forgets that isn't fit to lead."
Soma listened.
"When I give an order, I need to know why I'm giving it. I need to understand what it costs. And when something goes wrong, I don't get to pretend the dead were merely numbers on a report."
For an instant, Soma saw something behind the captain's hard expression.
Exhaustion.
Regret.
Perhaps memories of battles he'd rather forget.
"Is that why you left the army?" Soma asked softly.
Jaspar's jaw tightened.
The silence stretched.
Then the captain looked away.
"That's a story for another day."
Soma didn't press.
There were some questions that deserved patience.
The royal gates opened before the convoy.
Armored guards snapped to attention as the Locke crest passed, and a moment later the carriages rolled onto an enormous stone bridge spanning one of Highmere's great rivers.
Soma forgot his questions.
For the first time in his life, the world beyond the capital opened before him.
The river thundered beneath the bridge, its immense current racing toward the distant lagoon. Far to the west, sunlight glittered across an enormous expanse of teal water, where bright white shores curved around the inland sea.
Behind them, the mountains rose in a jagged wall of stone.
Crown Falls descended from the heights in a brilliant white torrent, disappearing into a mist-filled basin before feeding the great waterways that embraced the royal capital.
And above Highmere, the Citadel stood like an impossible spear piercing the heavens.
Soma leaned toward the glass.
"That's..."
For once, words failed him.
Samantha smiled.
"Beautiful?"
He nodded.
Beyond the bridge lay rolling green fields, distant farms, and forests stretching toward hills softened by blue morning haze. Wind moved through the tall grasses in rippling waves, and strange birds wheeled above the river.
A small animal darted across a roadside stone.
It resembled a squirrel, except for the two tails trailing behind it and the faint ember-colored glow shimmering through its fur.
Soma's eyes widened.
"Was that a split-tailed ember squirrel?"
Jaspar glanced outside.
"Looks like one."
"I've only seen illustrations!"
"Well, now you've seen one that doesn't live on a page."
Soma watched the creature disappear into the grass.
He couldn't stop smiling.
For all the uncomfortable truths he'd encountered that morning, the world was still extraordinary.
Perhaps even more extraordinary than he'd imagined.
After crossing the bridge, Jaspar ordered a change to the convoy formation.
The carriages halted briefly at a guarded roadside station. The knights checked their harnesses, inspected the wheels, and exchanged a few quiet words with the drivers.
Soma and Samantha moved into the middle carriage, where Jaspar joined them alongside one of the shield-bearing knights.
"Why change positions now?" Soma asked.
"The city gates are behind us," Jaspar replied. "The risks are different."
"Then the rear carriage was mainly to discourage anyone watching our departure from knowing where I was sitting?"
"Partly. And now I want you where my guards can protect you most effectively if something happens."
Soma nodded.
He liked that explanation.
It also reminded him that the captain's precautions weren't merely theoretical.
Highmere's walls were now a growing white silhouette behind them.
Here, there were no patrols at every intersection.
No familiar guards.
No easy retreat into Locke Manor.
The road belonged to travelers, merchants, and anyone else who happened to be passing through.
Jaspar checked the small map resting on his knee.
"About two hours to Haven Port, assuming the roads remain clear."
Soma looked up eagerly.
"What will we do when we arrive?"
"First, you'll meet some people who earn their living outside your father's household."
"Merchants?"
"Among others."
"Adventurers?"
"Possibly."
"Will we visit the local guild?"
"Maybe."
"Will we—"
"Gods above, boy. Do you ever stop talking?"
"Occasionally."
"When?"
"When I'm reading."
Samantha laughed.
Jaspar closed his eyes.
"I can already tell these next five years are going to be a pain in my ass."
The farmland gradually gave way to woodland.
Tall trees rose on either side of the road, their enormous trunks covered in moss and climbing vines. Sunlight filtered through the branches, painting shifting patterns across the carriage windows.
The air cooled.
Birdsong replaced the distant noise of the capital, and the road narrowed as it wound through increasingly dense forest.
Soma watched in fascination.
Every unfamiliar plant reminded him of something he'd read in Zane's field guides. Every rustle beyond the trees made him wonder what creatures might be hiding beneath the undergrowth.
Yet the long morning had begun catching up with him.
He'd awakened at three, completed his usual training, sparred with a new instructor, and spent several hours studying a side of Highmere he'd scarcely understood before.
His eyelids grew heavy.
Jaspar noticed.
"Get some rest."
"I'm not tired."
"You're blinking like a drunk owl."
Samantha smiled.
"You should sleep, Soma."
"I want to see the forest."
"It'll still be here when you wake up."
Soma attempted to argue.
A yawn betrayed him.
Jaspar smirked.
"Thought so."
Reluctantly, Soma settled against the cushioned seat.
Samantha adjusted his cloak and offered him a folded blanket.
"Just for a little while," she said.
Soma nodded.
Outside, the trees grew taller and closer together, their branches forming a broad canopy overhead. The rhythmic motion of the carriage blended with the muffled sounds of wheels against the road and the distant calls of unfamiliar birds.
His thoughts drifted back to the people he'd seen that morning.
The boy carrying sacks.
The woman sharing bread between her children.
The exhausted workers beneath the Merchants Guild's magnificent walls.
He'd known that poverty existed.
He'd simply never understood how close it had been.
And Jaspar had been right about one thing.
A map could tell him where a road went.
It couldn't tell him who suffered along it.
Soma made himself a quiet promise.
When he returned to Highmere, he would speak with his father.
He wanted to understand why some neighborhoods were neglected, how their funding worked, and what could realistically be done to improve them.
Not because he believed one conversation would solve everything.
But because understanding a problem was the first step toward changing it.
And if he someday expected people to trust his judgment, he needed to earn that trust.
His breathing slowed.
The carriage swayed gently.
Within minutes, Soma was asleep.
Jaspar watched the boy's head settle against the cushioned seat.
For a while, he said nothing.
Samantha carefully tucked the blanket around Soma's shoulders.
"He's had a long morning," she whispered.
"He has."
"Did he do well?"
The captain considered the question.
"He listens. Thinks before speaking. Knows when he's missing information."
Samantha smiled.
"That's our Soma."
"He's also stubborn, overly curious, and far too convinced he can solve every problem if he studies it long enough."
"That sounds like him too."
Jaspar glanced toward the sleeping child.
"But he's willing to learn."
Coming from the veteran, the words sounded unusually sincere.
Samantha's expression softened.
"He wants to be someone his family can be proud of."
Jaspar grunted.
"His family already is."
He looked through the window as the road curved deeper into the forest.
"Now we have to make sure he lives long enough to become the man he's trying to be."
Samantha's smile faded slightly.
"Captain?"
Jaspar didn't answer immediately.
His gaze remained fixed on the passing trees.
Something about the silence had changed.
The forest was still beautiful, its ancient branches swaying gently above the road.
But the birds had stopped singing.
Jaspar slowly straightened in his seat.
His hand moved toward the short sword at his hip.
Across from him, the Vanguard knight noticed.
"Captain?"
Jaspar raised one finger.
Silence.
The carriage continued moving.
A faint crack echoed somewhere beyond the trees.
Then another.
Jaspar's expression hardened.
"Wake the boy."
Samantha turned toward Soma.
"Soma," she whispered, touching his shoulder.
He stirred.
"What's wrong?"
Before she could answer, a sharp whistle cut through the forest.
Jaspar lunged toward the window.
"SHIELDS!"
An arrow slammed into the side of the carriage.
The horses screamed.
And the peaceful morning exploded into chaos