After leaving the weapons merchant, Jack continued wandering around the city. Chimneys from the upper district’s aether refineries released faint trails of blue-tinted aether-steam into the clear sky. Up above, two military dirigibles, the only ones of their kind, floated between reinforced aerial mooring rings suspended on titanic sky chains. Their hulls were studded with bronze rivets, and their propeller fins shimmered with rune enchantments designed to stabilise flight and repel wayward birds.

  Smaller skycraft buzzed between them; messenger hawks reimagined, their metallic wings clinking as they zipped between towers, delivering encoded scrolls or fresh aether capsules.

  Plans were underway to build a fleet of military dirigibles to protect the Kingdom’s borders from its many enemies. Soon, squadrons of elite soldiers would operate dozens of the dirigibles. A new class of aerial scouts, sky-knights, glided beside them in gear-spun wingsuits that folded like clockwork bronze scarabs when grounded.

  Jack watched as six trainee sky-knight’s leaped from a dirigible and sped through Lundun’s airspace in a haphazard formation. Though still experimental, the sky-knight combat class was visually impressive, their glass-lens helmets and sweeping, blue canvas cloaks casting long shadows over the city during training flights.

  The class was so new that only twelve teenagers had been offered the Novice Sky-Knight class. All the new recruits were children of nobles in the military. None had the years of experience to level to Apprentice Sky-Knight.

  “Not for me, thanks,” Jack muttered as he imagined himself jumping from a dirigible while relying on mechanical wings to keep him from splatting on the cobbles below. “They must be mad!” He shuddered at the thought as he watched the six teenagers train.

  As he watched the teens perform a tricky aerial manoeuvre, one of the teens almost hit a flag pole. “Ooh, that was close.” As he continued on his way, he recalled that within a decade, sky taxis would be introduced. They were elegant, enclosed skimmers that could carry a dozen passengers each, available only to the wealthy. But for now, almost all airborne craft served the crown.

  Passing by a shop selling spell scrolls, Jack remembered that he was supposed to visit a temple to choose his class. Caught up in the wonderful distractions and the fun of the day, he’d lost track of time.

  “Let’s get this over with.” As he made his way towards the nearest temple, his belly began to rumble. He winced, realising that his visit to the temple would have to wait a little longer. A quick snack won’t take too long.

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  With a bright smile, Jack hurried through the bustling streets, weaving his way past people as he made for a spot he knew well. I haven’t had one of Arman’s savoury wraps since I was nineteen, he mused. I used to love the old man’s cooking. I wonder where he went?

  He was in so much of a rush that he bumped into a little girl. “Oops. I’m sorry,” he said, catching her before she tumbled over. “You alright?” The girl nodded, and he continued on with his quest for food. “Poor thing,” Jack muttered as he rushed through the streets. The little girl was filthy. Probably an orphan.

  Arman’s food stall had been a beloved fixture on Royal Library Square for the first nineteen years of his previous life. Then, without warning, the friendly old man’s stall shut down. Jack never saw or heard from Arman again, leaving him with only the memory of those treasured flavours.

  Approaching The Square, the Royal Library towered high above its neighbours, its red brick fa?ade standing in stark contrast to the newer sandstone buildings that clustered around it. The library’s arched stained-glass windows looked down on the streets of Lundun like the disapproving eyes of noblemen presiding over commoners. The heavy wooden doors were adorned with rivets that protruded from the aged wood like dull porcupine quills.

  Jack spared the Royal Library a cursory glance as he headed for his favourite food stall. He should still be here. He doesn’t leave for a few years. He slowed his pace when he saw the queue. “There he is.”

  Arman had a long line of customers and a warm smile to greet each and every one of them. The spicy, fragrant aroma of the meats, mingled with the sweet scent of honey, tickled Jack’s appetite so much that he couldn’t help but drool. He rocked on his heels as he watched the people in front of him order and receive their wraps.

  Arman’s appetising savoury delights, served with sweet and spicy sauces, had earned city?wide fame. The heat from the fire pit, which cooked the spit-roasted lamb, radiated a comforting warmth under the bright, colourful fabric awning.

  Before Jack could step up to take his turn, his name was called over the head of the person before him.

  “Jack, where have you been? An old man might think you are avoiding him, no?” Arman chimed in his merry, sing?song voice. “Have you replaced me with another vendor?” the old man mock complained. “Do I have competition, or is it a young lady’s favour I’ve been replaced by, yes? She has stolen your heart and one of my favourite customers, no?” he teased while handing a wrap to the customer he was serving.

  To ensure he was offered the Novice Scribe class, Jack had been too busy practising to visit Arman’s stall. He’s exactly how I remember him. He smiled at the old vendor’s fun banter. Always teasing me about girls.

  In his previous life, he would go bright red as Arman teased him, but not this time. He might look sixteen, but he had over forty years of life experience behind him.

  Arman leaned on his stall, his belly spilling onto the counter, chuckling at Jack’s expense while giving him a critical eye. “Not yet, no? No young ladies for Jack yet, but soon, yes, very soon. Arman can tell.” He gave Jack a beaming smile so bright it competed with the reflected sunlight off his bald head. Rolling up the sleeves of his colourful shirt, he asked, “So, what can I get you, young Jack?”

  ? Phoenix Flight [Lite LitRPG - Dungeon Diving - Slow Romance] ?

  by RainyLiquid

  Weak to Strong, gathering of powers, skills, and spells.