No Luck

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Alex walked the roads and inspected its newly repaired state. Apparently, at the dead of night, someone in the neighborhood saw a squadron of soldiers escorting a mage that repaired the pothole covered road and reinforced it.

The good parts of this were obvious, but the unfortunate bit is that the road now looked more expensive than the houses it led through. That was kind of seriously sad. If this stone mage could repair a road this big in a night, couldn't he spare a day or two to build some strong and sturdy stone houses?

Why do people even have to pay for such a basic necessity when its solution was just so close. Perhaps his opinion on this matter was clouding his judgement, the earth mage may be required for far more important tasks.

Yet, he knew that they were powerful awakened just sitting comfortably inside the inner city partying and fucking.

Anyway, the road's practical reconstruction was obviously for military uses and not for the benefit of its frequent users. While the slums were not reputable and repulsed the higher ranked military, it was still a large part of the city. That meant that the shortest path between certain parts of the walls and the military district was through the slums.

It was good for his feet and good for the people with a trolley and donkey, as they were flying through the streets uncaring for the danger on the people walking on said road.

Looking at roads wasn't his objective for today though, he had sent his clones to train this morning in their disciplines and took care of any chores in the house. His mom was taken care of, but it will probably be prudent to return before Genesis sets and Prime rises.

Wearing his best clothes, he headed towards the Lord's Office. It was one of many administrative buildings with the same name; they generally dealt with administrative stuff.

He really didn't know what they did there but what he definitely knew was that the permits were granted there. Alex wanted to see if it was possible for him to get a Proof of Wealth or Significant Ownership of Wealth document if you wanted to be coy about it.

There was a significant chance that there was a fee for such a document and an even stronger chance of not getting the other special pass.

He had to try though, if he didn't he may as well say he gave up. That or go to his least favorite place in the world, the black market. He would leave that for his last desperate attempt, as any products sourced from there had questionable quality.

His mind wandered but his body kept walking until he reached a marble building with uniform pillars of white clean marble taller than three men holding up a lavishly decorated roof. On the front of the roof words were engraved, "Southern Lowland Administrative Court."

Fixing up the wrinkles in his clones, Alex walked through an open double steel door. The first thing he sensed was the smell of paper and the next thing was a low hum of quill and paper. There was an orderly line of fine dressed men waiting for a clear to process then and a disorderly mass of peasants pushing and shoving to take the first place.

Shying away from the chaos, Alex stepped behind the orderly line, blending into the good dressed crowd. He still probably needed a shower to get rid off the smell of the slums that the doctor from the clinic had apparently smelled.

That guy's great grandmother had been probably fucked by a bloodhound, his nose was just too keen. That or Alex's nose was busted from the shit aroma of the slums, he didn't know which one was worse.

The clerks were clearly experienced, in a short while the person in front of him had finished what he came here for and Alex advanced towards the marble counter.

"Greetings." Alex wanted to extend his hand for a shake but refrained at the last moment. The clerk's hands were full and it would quickly become awkward if he asked for a handshake.

The clerk didn't stop his work on the documents in his hands, his head bobbing for him to start.

"I've come to inquire about getting a Proof of Wealth and a special pass?" Alex asked, quickly realising that he didn't know what the special pass was called.

"A deed for a property not in the southern districts or be a member of the Colleges or be a member of the guilds." The clerk recited, almost all of his attention still on the documents. "And the emergency medical pass needs firm evidence of a deadly health condition verified by a College affiliated healer and an Officer of the guard."

"And-" "I forgot, you need to pay a gold coin for the processing fees."

Alex slumped his shoulders. The faint hope in his heart puttered, replaced by the dread of being left with very few unpalatable options. He briefly contemplated begging; he instantly dismissed it. His mother did not raise a loser.

And his father would have not liked it. Even until his death, he never begged.

His return back home was not swift, as every step was dragged along. His new pants were being dirtied. He didn't really care. Alex's mind lit up with an idea, and he quickly moved towards the central market square.

There he saw tons of trolleys filled with all kinds of local produce next to the legitimate stores that sold better quality food. Among the many vendors he recognized the faces of the farmer family he had encountered in front of the gate while they were cooking corn on their donkey powered trolley. The girl Juillet or whatever her name is used her female visage to attract customers.

His destination was a small scroll and book store. He asked a question and came out of the store even more sad. Apparently all medical texts were seized upon the creation of the Colleges, leaving no reading material for him to perhaps understand and maybe, maybe be able to create the medicines his mother needed.

That clearly didn't pan out, and all he had left was…the black market.

Damn, he hated that place.