I was immediately struck by how open The Stables were.

  Not open like Uptown, where space existed just to feel important.

  No—here, the space was used.

  Each home had a wide meadow in front. Each meadow was fenced—paint worn, peeling, but still standing. Each one dotted with wildflowers and trees.

  Acre after acre of it.

  It made me wonder just how big this city really was.

  They looked like homes where horses might roam.

  A single road ran through the middle.

  Not grand—just wide enough, meandering like it had nowhere in particular to be.

  Shops hugged either side.

  Behind them, the houses. Behind those, the fields.

  In the dark, I hadn’t seen any of this. I’d only seen the storefronts.

  This was…

  This was amazing.

  I heard a whinny and realized there were wild horses here too, running and roaming the fields. I don’t know why that surprised me.

  Then it struck me. The reason why it seemed so open. There was no city wall here. It just opened right onto the fields next to the city. Stretching off to the forested distance.

  “Not bad, huh?” Artoal laughed, giving me a nudge forward.

  “This is beautiful,” I whispered. I had lived so long in the mines…I had forgotten the world held open spaces too. My journey to the city had been little more than a mad scramble to get to someplace safe before I became a slave again.

  The mage might have wiped out my original owners, but there were always new ones waiting.

  And then I had lived in the store. Which somehow felt…small.

  My world has been small, I realized. Even more than the giant floating homes of the elite and their massive boulevards — the open fields stretching as far as the eye could see opened my eyes.

  The forests to the north, the sea to the south, the mountains straight ahead.

  This wasn’t a quarter of the city. This was its own village that backed up to the city.

  I took off down the road, looking for “Old Jenk’s Shop.” The shops looked tired, but I was surprised to see how happy the inhabitants looked. I had thought of the centaurs as just another race.

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  I had been unfair. These were a people. I subconsciously straightened my name tag and continued on my way. I wasn’t sure how I was going to find where I was supposed to be going, but when I saw a storefront with the words, “Old Jenk’s Shop” I drew up short.

  Jen had literally meant stop by the shop. I thought she had meant it was someone’s shop, not the actual freaking name of the shop.

  An old centaur stood out front, watching the sky. He looked like he’d once been a proud ebony mustang—now more white than black.

  “Hello son,” he said, looking down from the sky. “What can Ol’ Jenk do for ya?” He asked, adjusting the wheat in his mouth.

  I smiled.

  “I need a haircut.”

  ____

  Jenk gave a laugh — something between a whinny and a snort, and set a stool down in front of him, gesturing for me to take a seat.

  “Jen sent ya, did she?” He said, but it sounded more of a statement than a question.

  I nodded. “How did you know?”

  He snorted again, taking a pair of scissors and getting to work. “You’ve got the star-eyed look of someone seeing this place for the first time,” he said, snipping away. “Then you march up to an old war-mane General and ask for a haircut,” he continued, chuckling to himself.

  I froze in horror. I had asked a War General for a haircut?!

  “Just seems like something Jen would do,” he finished, adjusting my head so he could continue cutting.

  “Uh…sorry sir I didn’t realize -“ I began, my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.

  “None of that sir stuff,” he chided. “Besides, haven’t seen battle in — “

  He squinted at me.

  “ — well probably longer than you have been alive,” he finished with a grumble. “Now I’m just ‘Old Man Jenk’, shop owner and giver of haircuts,” he laughed.

  I had never met a General before. Heck, I had never met a soldier before — but he wasn’t what I had expected. I don’t even know what I had expected, but it hadn’t been this — this easy going, lighthearted barber who chuckled and laughed.

  Maybe my notions were just wrong. Or maybe I didn’t understand centaurs at all.

  I had a sneaking suspicion Jenk was different among soldiers. Even more so amongst Generals.

  “There, finished up,” he suddenly said, slapping me on the back of the head hard enough to send me sprawling.

  “What — ?” I spluttered, getting up furiously.

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist!” he whinnied. “It’s not easy to knock a four-legged horse off their feet. You were a rare chance!”

  Ok, you know what? Maybe centaurs really are just unhinged. Just like goblins. And kobolds. And humans! I raged to myself.

  “Consider it payment, keep your coin,” he finished, wiping the tears from his eyes.

  That… mollified me a bit.

  “What do you think?” He asked, holding a mirror up for me.

  I gazed at my reflection. At a half-elf man I did not recognize.

  It wasn’t anything special. But it was clean. Sharp. My eyes no longer hidden.

  It made me feel clean and sharp.

  I grinned fiercely. I liked the look of the man who grinned back.

  “It’s perfect,” I said, giving a nod to Jenk. He nodded back and pushed me on my way. I stumbled a bit, this time not from his push but from my exhaustion having finally caught up.

  I would be glad to get back and rest.

  “If you ever want to learn how to use a sword, come see me, kid,” Jenk shouted at my back.

  I paused a moment, then waved.

  I just might take you up on that.