Adom stifled a yawn, blinking in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the brand new park's canopy of elm trees. Westgrove Park was one of Arkhos' newest additions, built in the elven style with winding paths and trees arranged in seemingly random patterns that somehow felt perfectly natural.

The day had warmed nicely, making the wooden bench beneath him almost comfortable. Almost. He shifted position, trying to work out a knot in his shoulder—the price of yesterday's silverback transmutation.

"I think we came out ahead on this deal," he mumbled to himself, flexing his fingers.

The enchanted training sphere he'd bought earlier after classes squeaked in protest as he squeezed it gently. It was squishy yet resistant, designed for people with magically enhanced strength to practice normal gripping.

A few dozen yards away, Zuni was having the time of his life, darting between bushes and investigating every new smell with boundless enthusiasm.

Adom smiled, watching the little creature discover the world. It was easy to forget his own troubles when—

"Oh no," he muttered, straightening suddenly. "Zuni, don't—"

Too late.

Zuni had spotted a stray cat lounging on a low garden wall. The orange tabby, a battle-scarred veteran of street life, watched with narrowed yellow eyes as the small blue creature approached, utterly oblivious to the danger signals.

The quillick chirped happily, prancing right up to the cat. Not content with merely invading the feline's personal space, Zuni proceeded to poke the cat's tail with his paw, then looked up at the larger animal with what could only be described as an idiotic grin.

The cat's fur stood on end. Its tail puffed to twice its normal size.

"Zuni!" Adom called, already on his feet. "Get back here!"

The cat hissed, one paw raised with claws extended. Zuni, apparently interpreting this as an invitation to play, chirped again and poked the cat's side.

"For the love of—" Adom muttered, rushing forward.

The cat swiped. Zuni dodged—barely—then gave the angry feline a look of betrayal.

Before the situation could escalate further, Adom hastily extended his hand:

[Levitation].

Zuni rose about three feet into the air with an indignant squeak, legs pedaling uselessly.

"You have no survival instinct whatsoever," Adom told the suspended quillick as he plucked him from the air. "That cat was twice your size."

"I didn't know you had a quillick."

Adom turned to find Cass standing a few paces away, looking at Zuni. Today she'd worn her hair pulled back in a simple knot that somehow managed to look both severe and elegant.

"Cass." Adom adjusted his grip on the squirming Zuni. "You're early."

"And you have a quillick," she repeated, stepping closer. "Where did you get him?"

"Class project," he said, settling Zuni down beside him. "We're studying bonding in my druid elective."

"Druid elective?" Cass didn't sound convinced. She circled the bench and sat down, leaving a respectful distance between them. "I thought you were focusing on battle magic."

"I am, mostly. But we're allowed to take optional courses outside our specialization. Helps with a more rounded education."

"And the Academy just hands out quillicks to students?"

"He's not permanent. He's a research subject I'm responsible for this term."

"So the Academy is fine with you using spells on their research subjects?" she asked, having clearly seen his rescue maneuver.

"Better than explaining why I let their research subject get mauled by a street cat," Adom replied with a shrug.

Before Adom could continue, Zuni chirped and scampered across the bench toward Cass. He stopped just short of her leg, head tilted in that inquisitive way of his.

Adom expected Cass to maintain her usual aloof demeanor. Instead, her expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"Hello there," she said.

She cautiously extended a hand, palm up. "Aren't you an interesting little thing?"

Zuni sniffed her fingers, then happily climbed onto her palm. Cass actually smiled – not her usual sardonic smirk, but something genuine that transformed her face.

"Huh," Adom said, watching this unexpected interaction. "Interesting."

"What?" Cass asked, not looking up as she gently scratched behind Zuni's ear spikes.

"I just wouldn't have taken you for the cute creature-loving type."

Now she did look up, one eyebrow arched challengingly. "And what type did you take me for, exactly?"

Adom considered his answer carefully.

"The serious type," he said finally. "Stoic. No-nonsense. Too busy being sarcastic and smart to fuss over something small and blue."

"That's what you think of me?"

"I think you're someone with a strong sense of honesty who doesn't waste time on nonsense," he clarified.

Cass's mouth twitched. "You've been paying attention."

"Hard not to."

She ran a finger along Zuni's spine, and the quillick practically melted with pleasure. "I used to have a quillick familiar, you know. Back when I was around your age."

"You did?"

"Mmhmm. Name was Kip. Blue-green coloration, though never as vibrant as your little friend here." Her voice softened. "Quillicks make the best familiars if you ask me. Intelligent, loyal, and they pick up on emotional states better than any other magical creature I know of."

The question nearly formed on Adom's lips—where was her familiar now?—but he stopped himself. If he hadn't seen the creature in all the time he'd known Cass, the answer was pretty obvious. No need to make things awkward by asking her to talk about it.

Zuni chirped in apparent agreement with her assessment, then curled up in her palm like he belonged there.

Cass seemed to decide it was time to cut to the chase. "So," she said, looking up from Zuni, "what was that 'business opportunity' you wanted to tell me about three days ago?"

"Right," Adom said, meeting her gaze directly. This was good, actually. He'd gain more time at being direct. "I want to create a merchant guild, and I'd like you to manage it."

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Cass blinked, her hand freezing mid-stroke on Zuni's back. "You want to what?"

"Create a merchant guild. With you as its head," Adom repeated calmly.

"A merchant guild," she echoed. She looked at him with the particular expression adults reserve for children who've announced they're going to build a castle out of clouds. Not mockery—just gentle bewilderment. "You realize you're thirteen, right?"

"I'm aware of my apparent age, yes."

"And you're a mage. In training."

"Also correct."

Cass shifted, angling her body toward him. "Look, I understand mages can be wealthy. The good ones make fortunes with enchantments, potions, all that. But a merchant guild isn't something you just... decide to create one afternoon in a park."

"You need four things," Adom said, ticking them off on his fingers. "First, startup capital of no less than ten thousand gold. Second, a warehouse or similar property in a commercial district. Third, sponsorship from three existing guild members in good standing with the House of Merchants. And fourth, after all the other three conditions have been fulfilled, you need to secure a seat among the fifty existing ones in the House of Merchants." He tilted his head. "Did I miss anything?"

Cass's eyebrows rose slightly. "You also need merchandise, contacts, shipping routes, and—most importantly—experience."

"All things we can acquire." Adom leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The training sphere squeaked as he set it aside. "I know how this looks, Cass. You see a kid with an impractical idea who doesn't understand the real world."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. But I'm not just some student with delusions of grandeur." His tone shifted subtly, maybe acting his age would help pass the message better. "I have the capital. I've already identified a property in the eastern commercial district that would suit our needs. And I have leads on potential sponsors."

She stared at him, clearly trying to reconcile his words with his appearance.

"What I don't have," he continued, "is someone with your skills to manage daily operations. You understand commerce, you're honest, and you know how to handle yourself in negotiations."

"How would you know that?"

"I pay attention."

Cass looked down at Zuni, who had curled up contentedly in her palm. When she looked back up, her expression had hardened again. "Why me? There are professional guild managers with decades of experience."

"None I can trust." Adom met her gaze without flinching. "And none willing to work with someone who looks like me."

"So I'm your only option?"

"No. With or without you, I'm doing this. It would just happen faster and more efficiently with you on board." He paused. "It would also be the biggest mistake of your life to turn this down."

She actually laughed at that—a short, surprised sound. "That's quite a claim."

"It's not a claim, it's a prediction. In one month, we'll either have one of the fifty seats in the House of Merchants, or we'll be well on our way." He picked up the training sphere again, squeezing it carefully. "I'm offering you a partnership, not employment. Five percent ownership from the start, with performance bonuses that could take that to ten."

Adom waited as she studied him, taking in his posture, the certainty in his voice. "You're serious."

"Completely."

"And the Academy? Your training?"

"Will continue as normal. The guild is an investment in the future."

Cass shook her head slowly.

Is this a no?

"Even if you somehow have the money, even if you find sponsors, the commercial politics alone would crush most new enterprises. The established guilds don't welcome competition."

Ah. Not a no then.

"I'm counting on it." The corner of Adom's mouth lifted. "That's why I need someone like you—someone who understands that business isn't just about moving merchandise."

"And what do you understand about business, exactly?"

"That information and timing are more valuable than gold." He leaned back against the bench. "That appearances deceive, and that's an advantage if used correctly. That the most successful merchants aren't the ones with the most resources but the ones who see opportunities others miss."

Silence fell between them. Zuni stirred in Cass's palm, stretching before curling up again.

"You've really done your homework," she finally said. It wasn't quite agreement, but the dismissal had faded from her voice.

"I have." Adom glanced down at the quillick. "Surprising, isn't it?"

Another silence settled between them. Longer this time. Adom watched Cass, noting the slight furrow in her brow, the way her eyes seemed focused on something far beyond the park. She was weighing options, calculating risks and rewards.

I pushed too hard, he thought. The whole merchant guild pitch suddenly felt absurd. A thirteen-year-old proposing a business partnership to a woman nearly twice his age. What had he been thinking?

"I should probably—" he began.

"I want ten percent base," Cass interrupted, "and twenty percent performance bonus."

Adom blinked, then slowly smiled. "You're in?"

"I'm negotiating," she corrected, scratching Zuni behind his ear spikes. "There's a difference."

"Eight percent base," Adom countered, "and fifteen percent performance bonus."

"That's insulting."

"It's practical. If we succeed, fifteen percent of our profits will be substantial."

"If we succeed," Cass emphasized. "That's a massive 'if' for a venture this ambitious. Nine percent base, eighteen percent bonus."

Adom shook his head. "Seven percent base, twelve percent bonus, and you get naming rights for the guild."

"Naming rights?" Cass snorted. "That's worth maybe half a percent."

"It's worth more than you think. The right name opens doors."

She studied him carefully. "Seven and fourteen."

"Seven and twelve," Adom held firm. "Final offer."

Cass extended her hand, carefully transferring Zuni to her lap with the other. "Seven and twelve. We have a deal."

They shook. Her grip was firm, calloused.

"You're quite good at negotiation for someone your age," she remarked.

"Thank you."

"Don't let it go to your head." She gently returned Zuni to the bench between them. "Now for the hard part. We need to register as a guild before next week."

Adom's eyebrows shot up. "Next week? Why so soon?"

"The deadline for candidates for this cycle's House of Merchants evaluation is the twentieth. Miss that, and we wait a year for the next cycle." She leaned back against the bench. "And that's just to get on the list of candidates. Actually securing one of the fifty seats? That's where the real challenge begins."

"I thought we'd have at least a month."

"A month to secure a seat, yes. But only seven days to even qualify as contenders." She turned to face him directly. "And that's assuming we have everything else in order. Capital, property, sponsors."

"Two out of three," Adom admitted. "I'm still working on sponsors."

Cass nodded slowly. "About that capital. I've done some research on you and your family."

"I'm not surprised."

"Your father is a Star Knight. Your mother is a healer mage." She ticked these facts off on her fingers. "Comfortable, financially speaking, but not merchant guild comfortable. No offense."

"None taken."

"So where exactly are you planning to get these resources?" Her expression hardened slightly. "If it's anything illegal, I'm out. I've worked too hard to maintain my reputation."

"Nothing illegal," Adom assured her. "House Sylla will be our backer. The merchant guild will operate under the house's name and protection."

"House Sylla." She repeated the name. "I wasn't aware the Syllas had commercial interests."

"They do now." Adom squeezed his training sphere. "As for the rest, I have a few ideas."

Cass studied him for a long moment. "Alright," she finally said. "I'll trust you on this. For now."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." She scooped up Zuni, who'd been attempting to scramble down from the bench, and placed him on her lap again. "You need to understand what we're up against."

Cass leaned forward, voice dropping slightly. "The fifty seats in the House of Merchants aren't just positions. They're fortunes. Power. Each seat represents exclusive trading rights, tax exemptions, and access to imperial contracts."

Adom nodded. "I know."

It was the main reason he needed a merchant guild. By having an influence on the economy, he could gain power by the time he was an adult, and through the routes he'd obtain with the guild, he could place spy networks all over the continents, giving him the chance to know who exactly were his enemies, and find leads on the Dragon's Breath development.

"Do you? Because those fifty seats are held by guilds backed by the most powerful forces in Arkhos. Noble houses, religious orders, even foreign interests operating through proxies." Her fingers traced idle patterns on Zuni's back. "Every cycle, the five weakest performers face challenge. This cycle, those five are the Crimson Scale Consortium, Whiteshore Traders, Evernight Exchange, Dusk Caravan, and Saffron House."

"Who backs them?"

"Crimson Scale is backed by House Vrentel." She watched his reaction carefully. "They have the weakest position this cycle, but crossing the Vrentels is... ambitious."

"And the others?"

"Whiteshore has the Church of the new gods behind them. Evernight is independent but has connections to the dwarven allies of Sundar. Dusk Caravan is backed by three minor houses working together. And Saffron House has foreign backing – probably Therian merchants, though they keep their arrangements private."

Adom nodded slowly, absorbing this information. "Which would you target?"

"That depends." Said Cass. "Are we aiming to merely succeed, or are you planning to make a statement?"

"Both, if possible."

She smiled thinly. "Then Crimson Scale is your target. They've had three consecutive weak cycles. Rumor says House Vrentel is already preparing to back a different guild next year if they don't improve. They're vulnerable."

"And the most dangerous."

"Exactly. The Vrentels don't take losses well." She leaned back. "Even if we manage to register in time, even if we somehow secure sponsors, we'll face resistance. Not just competition – active sabotage. Shipments will go missing. Deals will mysteriously fall through. If we start to look like a genuine threat, there might be worse."

"Accidents?"

"Or intentional examples." Her voice was matter-of-fact. "This isn't academic competition, Adom. People have disappeared for less."

"I understand the risks."

"Do you?" Cass didn't sound condescending, just concerned. "Because once we start this, backing out isn't an option. Not without consequences."

"I understand," he repeated. He reached over and took Zuni from her lap, settling the quillick on his shoulder. "The question is, do you still want in?"

Cass looked at him for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across her face. "Oh, I'm in. This is either going to be the most spectacular failure in Sundar's commercial history, or..." She shrugged. "Well, let's just say I've always wanted to see the inside of the Grand Exchange."