So, at least two of the porters are pleased by the silver coins. Regardless of that, why are they rewarding me for paying tribute? Is it an incentive to bring them more silver coins in the future? Why do they like them so much?

  Walking back to the alley, I pop one in my mouth. It tastes far less tingly than the copper, but it’s still very unpleasant. All these unintelligible customs of the big ones make no sense. Spitting the coin back out and returning it to a pouch, I thoroughly verify that the alley’s empty. Everything clear, I repeat the process to gain entry.

  My energy control this time is significantly better. My head barely hurts at all. However, it was also more of a struggle to force my way through the twist with the lower energy expulsion. There must be some kind of trick to it, but I haven’t figured it out yet.

  Excitedly scurrying into the center of the library by the chair, I merrily dig through the folds on my hidden pockets to poke each once. My heaping opulence all spills to the ground in a grand, rattling crash. Spooked by the unexpected noisiness, I carefully inspect all of my cargo. More than a few items have become damaged. Simple nicks, dents, and punctures. A few torn books and papers. Luckily the ink kept sealed.

  My potted slime has shrunk to the size of a tiny, shivering coin. It really doesn’t like being inside the pockets. Being inside this library is incredibly pleasant, so what’s the difference? I can’t solve that now, there’s too much other work to do.

  All my mixing supplies, tools, and potions go onto the counters at the back. All weapons stay by the chair, since most of my time will be spent there. Also there, I create stacks of my stolen books to keep them clearly separate and distinct from all the new ones on the shelves. On top of the stacks, I prominently place the grey plate looted from the ears in the sewer. Interpreting it has eluded me so far. It’s either in a language that I don’t understand or it requires some kind of energy to penetrate it, like the map. Hopefully something in the library can help me figure it out, if it even matters. It’s probably all some silly big one game, but solving the puzzle may teach me valuable tricks. Who knows, maybe it’s someone’s shoplifting list and figuring it out will be wasted effort?

  Stripping off all my leathers to get comfortable, I lovingly lay them up against my now empty packs. I feel so free here. Although, it’s pretty disgustingly clean. The sewers are a wonderful environment for my skin and disposition, but I have to admit that they’re also terrible for the books. Stains, tears from rats and slimes, and turning to pulp from the dampness. That means I can’t risk dirtying this library too much. Maybe creating a comfy little sleeping corner will be enough? So much to do!

  Six months later, I’m exhausted. Almost all I do is eat, sleep, read, and obsessively practice every day. This place is as much a prison as it is a priceless treasure. Sometimes the better part of a week will pass without ever having set foot outside. I try to make regular trips to the sewer for fetching rats for my pet slime and fresh filth for my bed. Otherwise, it’s too easy to forget the passage of time buried in all these books.

  On a positive note, the constant usage of the scrying stone when running errands has been very fruitful.

  Frequent practice with the device has gotten me to the point where I can now peek outside the alley and into the street.

  I’ve also obsessively focused on perfecting my ability to hide my pockets while carrying the sewer supplies back.

  At first, all I did was clumsily stretch and fold space around the twists per usual, but with time, I realized that I could be more strategic. First, turning the twists tighter, making them smaller in size and easier to cover. Next, I grew more daring with the folds, using a mixture of sizes and lengths to make it appear far more natural. All this practice was so successful that a new hiding song specialized in spacial technique was recognized. As it gained in levels, my intuition on how to better disguise the seals accelerated greatly.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Even the repeated ins and outs through Garret’s sophisticated seal was a richly rewarding exercise.

  What an ideal obstacle course for learning how to consistently locate and navigate through a persistent spacial pocket’s seal.

  Also, the continued care of my slime, which turned into a rigid, daily schedule, was incredibly advantageous.

  Every feeding, I carefully observe its life cycle of search, hunt, and fetch. The tethers have become so familiar, along with many other internal processes within the slime. Rapidly cycling energy through different combinations of my eyes has also become part of this analysis. I can now successfully channel three at a time! Surprisingly, sending energy to the muscles can be used to amplify the effects of the pupils and lenses, rather than doing anything directly.

  Immediately after every slime session, I focus inwards and attempt the recreation of the slime’s sensory tethers. Eventually, I discovered something.

  Finally! Imitating tethers of my own, I can peek around corners and sneak inside closed boxes. Precious songs, sing of my future glory!

  On a very different note, completing the life and self perception songs created an amazing update to my personal status.

  Explicit indicators of my general condition and energy levels have been added! No more intuitively guessing about my internal state. The slime also now receives dynamic descriptions during appraisal, detailing whether or not it’s hungry, bored, or sick based on my practiced expertise to interpret its inner energies from afar. This confirms that the more familiar I am with something, the better the appraisal status descriptions received.

  I’ve grown so much from just these minor daily rituals. However, that doesn’t even begin to compare to all that I’ve learned during my book reading and mixing discipline after all this time.