The night air was cool as Kaelen wandered aimlessly through the streets of Aelarion, his footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. The bustling energy of the day had given way to a quieter rhythm, with only the occasional passerby or flickering lanterns breaking the calm. As he turned down a narrow side street, the faint glow of light caught his eye—a small tavern nestled between two larger buildings.
The sign above it creaked gently in the breeze, depicting a simple mug of ale. Kaelen hesitated for a moment before pushing open the heavy wooden door. Inside, the tavern was warm and inviting, though not particularly crowded. A few patrons sat at rickety tables, their conversations low and steady, while the barkeep wiped mugs behind the counter. Noticing Kaelen's entrance, the man glanced up and raised an eyebrow.
"Looking for a place to rest?" the barkeep asked gruffly.
Kaelen nodded, clutching the few coins he had left. "Do you have anything cheap?"
The barkeep smirked, leaning on the counter. "Depends on how cheap you're talking. Got a couple of rooms upstairs—nothing fancy, but they'll keep you dry. Two silver pieces for the night."
Relieved, Kaelen handed over the coins. The barkeep tossed him a key and pointed toward a staircase in the corner. "Food's extra if you're hungry," he added casually.
Kaelen hesitated, his stomach growling audibly, but eventually agreed to purchase a small meal. It wasn't much—a bowl of thin stew and a hunk of bread—but it filled him enough to stave off hunger. After eating, he climbed the stairs to his room, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion.
Despite the long day, sleep eluded him. Instead, Kaelen closed his eyes and delved into the Ocean of Insight, focusing intently on his intent. For so long, he had been consumed with survival—stealing scraps, hiding from hunters, running for his life. But now, in this new city, he wanted more. He wanted to rise above his circumstances, to find a place among the people of Aelarion who thrived rather than merely existed.
His mind reached out, searching for knowledge that might help him succeed in this unfamiliar world. What did it take to climb the ranks of society? How could someone like him, with nothing but his wits and illusions, make a name for himself?
Time seemed to blur as fragments of insight began to form. Visions passed before him—seekers who had mastered specific disciplines, using their skills to carve out niches for themselves. Some focused solely on one area of expertise, becoming unparalleled masters of their craft. Others combined multiple abilities, weaving them together to create something entirely unique.
And then, a clearer vision emerged. If Kaelen honed his talent for illusions and paired it with mystical knowledge drawn from the Ocean, he could carve a path for himself. His abilities were already uncommon, allowing him to manipulate sound, smell, and perception. But there was more—so much more. By diving deeper, he could expand his repertoire, creating illusions so convincing that even seasoned seekers would falter under their influence. Perhaps he could sell his services to nobles or merchants, offering protection through deception or aiding them in negotiations. Or maybe he could use his powers to uncover secrets hidden within the city, earning both coin and reputation.
An hour passed, perhaps more, before Kaelen surfaced from the Ocean, his mind buzzing with possibilities. Though exhausted, he felt a spark of hope ignite within him. For the first time, he saw a clear path forward—one that played to his strengths and offered a chance at stability.
Morning came too quickly, sunlight streaming through the cracks in the shutters. Kaelen stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and made his way downstairs. The barkeep greeted him with a grunt, sliding a loaf of bread across the counter. Kaelen accepted it gratefully, tearing off a piece and savoring its warmth.
As he ate, he noticed the other patrons giving him sidelong glances, their expressions ranging from indifference to outright distaste. He didn't blame them; despite his recent improvements, his attire still marked him as someone on the fringes of society. Determined to change that, Kaelen approached the barkeep after finishing his meal.
"Where can I find a bathhouse?" he asked.
The barkeep gestured vaguely toward the door. "Down the street, third left. Costs a copper."
Kaelen thanked him and set off, clutching the last of his coins. The bathhouse was modest but clean, its steam-filled interior welcoming. For the first time in what felt like ages, Kaelen washed away the grime of his past, scrubbing until his skin pinkened beneath the water. When he emerged, feeling refreshed and invigorated, he used his remaining coins to buy a set of simple but clean clothes from a nearby stall.
Standing before a cracked mirror later that morning, Kaelen barely recognized himself. Gone was the scruffy boy who had arrived in Aelarion the previous day. In his place stood someone cleaner, tidier, and—if he dared say it—more respectable. He ran a hand through his damp hair, smiling faintly at his reflection.
Today marked the beginning of something new. And this time, Kaelen was ready.