From a ladder near the back, Cassian looked up and squinted over his glasses. “Well, look what the wind dragged in. Thought you’d vanished into the forge.”
With a grin, Vex replied. “I nearly did. Isaak’s got me hammering from dawn to dusk. At this point, I think my arms are just calluses wearing a human costume.”
A laugh rumbled from Cassian as he made his way down the ladder slowly. “That’s how you know it’s working. What are you learning? Still on nails?”
“Graduated to hinges. Fancy, I know.”
“Next thing I know you’ll be forging door knockers with gryphon motifs.”
Leaning against the counter, Vex let his gaze wander across the bookshelves. “At this point, I’d settle for a straight hinge that doesn’t squeal when you breathe on it.”
From beneath the counter, Cassian pulled two mugs and filled them from a chipped carafe that smelled like burnt chicory and actual coffee. “You’re welcome to complain more, but it’ll cost you a shelf to reorganize.”
Accepting the mug, Vex took a sip. “Cruel man. I came here to escape labor and to share some pastries.”
“You came here for another skill book,” Cassian corrected, reaching below the counter and plunking down a thin volume with shimmering script. “My last copy of the Mastery of Elorian. And I think you’re the only person who will ask for it this cycle.”
Vex snorted but didn’t argue. He mentally reached into his inventory and pulled out a wax paper bundle, unwrapping a still-warm pastry with a flaky top and sugary glaze. A second one followed, then a small handful of coin, which he set on the counter next to the book.
"Payment and bribery," Vex said, tapping the coins with one finger. "In whichever order gets me the least amount of judgment."
The coins disappeared into the till as Cassian scooped them up without counting. He accepted the offered pastry with a pleased grunt, already tearing a bite from the flaky edge.
"If this is bribery," Cassian said around the mouthful, "then you've set the bar dangerously low." He licked a thumb and pointed it toward the pastry. "Also, you will absolutely still be judged. Just more fondly."
The door chime jingled again.
Lyra stepped inside like she owned the place, which, by extension of bloodline and sheer volume of attitude, she sort of did. Her braid was slightly windblown and her sleeves were rolled up, ink smudged along one wrist. "Let me guess," she said, eyeing the scene at the counter. "Barter via pastries? That's new."
Without waiting for a response, she reached over the counter and plucked the remaining pastry from the wax paper bundle like it had always belonged to her.
"Hey!" Vex protested, half-hearted.
"You snooze, you lose," Lyra said cheerfully, taking a bite. "Besides, you obviously brought them for me. You just didn't know it yet."
Cassian raised a brow. "Greeting my customer by stealing their breakfast, or is this just a special welcome for the pastry-payers?"
"Only the ones with memory loss." Lyra stated matter-of-factly as she leaned against the counter, elbow brushing Vex’s. "So, what did I miss? Anything exciting, or are we still talking about the boring stuff?"
A sideways glance from Vex accompanied his reply. "Mostly forging."
Lyra nodded solemnly. "Ah yes, the boring stuff. Carry on."
Another sip later, Cassian glanced over at Vex. “Any new memories lately?”
Shaking his head slowly, Vex answered honestly. “Not really. A few fuzzy edges, maybe. But it’s been a while since anything new showed up.”
Lyra, now perched on the corner of the counter and finishing the last of her stolen pastry, looked up. “You should see a healer in one of the major cities. The real ones, not a back alley charm-slinger. There's a woman in Denarith who works with memory stitching. Helped a few veterans I knew.”
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Vex arched an eyebrow. “Memory stitching?”
“It’s less dramatic than it sounds,” Lyra said, waving a hand. “But not painless. She won’t yank memories out of you, just… sort the mess. Help you trace the ones that are still hiding.”
Cassian nodded. “Could be worth it. Doesn’t mean you have to dive headfirst into your past, but maybe you’ll stop tripping over it every time someone asks where you’re from.”
The possibility lingered in Vex’s mind as he reached for the language book on the counter and quietly willed the guild acquisitions trait into action. As he did so, a system notification flashed in the corner of his vision.
You have begun using Guild Acquisitions on the Mastery of Elandrian: A Linguistic Approach (+3 Language Skill) skill book. This item has been added to your research queue. Estimated time to research: 76 hours, 28 minutes, and 15 seconds.
Lyra blinked, then leaned forward, peering at Vex like he’d just sprouted a second head. “Wait. Was that a storage trait?”
Vex froze mid-reach, hand still hovering near the now-vanished book. “Uh. Maybe?”
Cassian chuckled behind his mug. “You’re just now noticing? He pulled a whole meal out of thin air five minutes ago.”
“I thought he just had deep pockets,” Lyra said, then turned her gaze back to Vex. “That’s impressive. I’m still working on my first trait.”
“You?” Vex looked genuinely surprised. “But you’re—you seem way more competent than me.”
“Flattery will get you a bite of pastry next time,” she replied, grinning. “But yeah. Most people don’t unlock a trait until later.”
Cassian nodded. “Average age is somewhere around forty. Most folks never make it to their first ascension. Second ascension? One, maybe two people in an entire nation.”
Vex looked between the two of them, suddenly feeling the weight of that information settle in his chest. “Why does it take so long for most people?”
Lyra popped the last of the pastry into her mouth, chewing as she pointed a finger at Vex. “Not everyone has the luxury of noble resources—training camps, private tutors, weekly visits with a scryer.”
Blinking, Vex looked up. “Wait, you think I’m a noble?”
Cassian gave a long-suffering sigh and leaned against the counter. “Vex, you show up from another kingdom, have at least one of your talents at such a young age, and have posture like someone raised by etiquette instructors. If you're not noble, you’re noble-adjacent.”
“I slouch!” Vex said indignantly.
“Elegantly,” Lyra offered, smirking.
Grumbling, Vex crossed his arms. “Fine, but if I’m supposedly dripping in privilege, explain the economy to me like I’m new here.”
Cassian chuckled. “You basically are. The economy here’s built around skill books. Every guild and noble house wants its own libraries. Some are rare, others nearly priceless. Language books like the one you just acquired? Useful, but only to a handful of people. Most native speakers wouldn’t bother.”
Lyra chimed in, “But a high-tier combat manual? A crafting compendium from a lost era? Those could be bartered for a city if you weren't exchanging books."
Vex drummed his fingers on the counter in thought. “Okay, so if books run everything, where do the coins come in? Do they really matter?”
Cassian nodded. “They matter—just not as much as you’d think. Coins are a kind of shared world currency, mostly used for common goods: food, clothes, travel fees. The stuff people actually need day-to-day.”
Lyra added, “But beyond that? Not really. Most people try to be as self-sufficient as they can. Grow their own food and barter when it counts. Everyone’s chasing skills that’ll get them closer to ascension. That’s where the real value is.”
“Which means,” Cassian said, “if you’ve got a high-tier skill or the book to teach one, you’re worth a fortune. Coin just helps keep the bakeries running.”
Vex leaned back on the counter, arms folded. “I kind of wish we had skill books back home. Everything just ran on coin. Didn’t matter how talented you were, only what you could afford.”
A slow nod came from Cassian. “Makes sense. But making a skill book isn’t like writing down a recipe. It takes someone who not only knows the skill well but also has the traits and talent to bind it properly. It’s part craftsmanship, part scholarship, part sheer stubbornness.”
Lyra leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand, her eyes still on Vex as she spoke. “Not to mention materials. Some books need rare inks, monster cores, essence powder. All of it’s tightly regulated or ruinously expensive. A binder could spend years crafting a single useful book.”
“And then trade it for a manor,” Cassian added. “Or a private villa, depending on the rarity.”
A low whistle escaped Vex. “So not just knowledge—it’s skills, materials, and understanding.”
“Exactly,” Lyra said. “That’s why skill books are so valuable. It’s the combination of rarity and actual usefulness.”
With a slight tip of his mug, Cassian nodded toward the front window. “And it’s why most ships that risk the ocean do it for books. Transporting rare volumes from one continent to another? That’s worth the danger. Nothing else really justifies the risk.”
Vex blinked. “Wait, so I’m an anomaly? I came here…exploring.”
“That makes you either reckless or remarkably lucky,” Cassian said. “Possibly both.”
Lyra leaned against the counter, seeming to sag a bit. “Ocean monsters grow too large, too fast. Even the ones that don’t attack on sight have a tendency to destroy ships just by surfacing in the wrong spot.”
With a glance toward the window, Cassian added, “Most of the continents would keep to themselves. The ocean’s for the desperate or the very, very prepared.”
The back of his neck received a thoughtful scratch from Vex. “Noted. Next time I take a casual cruise across a deadly sea, I’ll bring a proper excuse.”
Lyra tilted her head, hesitating for just a second as if unsure what to say next. Then her expression shifted, and she casually asked, “So… do you have any more pastries?”
Cassian set his mug down with a dry smile. “Out. Both of you. Go buy more before I start charging fees for loitering.”
With a mock salute, Vex stood. “Yes, sir. Bribery restocking mission underway.”
Lyra was already halfway to the door. “If you get something with fruit, I might even let you keep a bite this time.”
Cassian just shook his head as the bell jingled once more behind them, the shop returning to quiet and dust and the steady presence of books waiting to be opened.