The door opened.

  A middle-aged man with a pinched face and sunken eyes entered. He was thin, with wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He walked in like the mere effort of putting one foot ahead of the other to reach the desk was a huge favor to Yang.

  The man settled into the chair behind the desk and leaned back, just looking at Yang with an expression that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else. Yang was a bit amused at his attempt to intimidate through prolonged silence.

  But Yang kept his expression clear and blank. He sat leisurely in his own chair and waited for the man to continue. When Yang showed no signs of fidgeting or being uncomfortable at the prolonged stare, the man let out a sigh.

  "Boy, this is no place to amuse yourself," the man said. "I am sure someone like you has never set foot inside a place like this, and it must be very tempting. But you mustn't make false claims to gain access. This is not a mere park but a prestigious institute and a pillar of Reylan."

  The tone was condescending disguised as kind, and Yang had to wonder if they received classes on that particular tone and expression. He'd met three people since entering this building, and all had shown the same condescending superiority disguised as "kind advice" while talking down to him.

  Yang adopted a similar tone and said, "I am not here to amuse myself, sir. Just to get my cards attested and have myself registered with the Cardwright Association."

  He took out his cards from his coat pocket, placing them on the table and spreading them out in a neat row. Before the man could spout any more nonsense, Yang continued. He was getting tired of all this talk and wanted to get this over with.

  The man went quiet for a moment. He picked up one of the cards, the light card, holding it close to examine it as if it would prove itself fake if he just looked at it closely enough.

  "You're claiming you created these yourself?" he asked, putting the first card down and taking up the second.

  "Yes, I created these cards," Yang replied evenly.

  "Do you have someone you are apprenticed to? A master who taught you?"

  "No. I created them by learning from a book."

  The man scoffed. "What book could teach you to create cards by yourself?"

  Yang gave a sarcastic smile. "Why, the official Basic Card Creation Guide of the Cardwright Association, of course."

  The man went red for a second, the card forgotten in his hand as his fist clenched. He sputtered, "You... you... the official manual..."

  But the man couldn't continue as Yang spoke over him. "Of course the official manual. It really works, after all. The first page states the Cardwright Association guarantees anyone with talent and willing to work hard can step onto the path of card creation by learning from it."

  Yang said this with an innocent smile.

  They both looked at each other, and Yang knew the man understood he was calling out their nonsense. Because no way could that book they claimed to be the main teaching method for card creation actually help anyone become one. There was no false information in the book, to be fair. But it could make someone an effective card creator about as well as reading medical books could make someone a doctor. Theory without practice, context, or guidance was nearly useless.

  The man carefully looked through each card, activating each one once. His eyebrow raised with each successful activation and deactivation.

  The light card illuminated brightly, then dimmed. The fireball card produced a small controlled flame that dissipated safely. The air purifying card didn’t show as obvious of a result as it did in his own room but the effect was apparent. The cutting card made a precise slice through a piece of test paper the man produced. The water spray card released a fine mist.

  All functional. All well-made.

  Now none of the initial insolence was present in the man's face. He looked more like someone to be wary of and less like an overworked bureaucrat on a power trip. His eyes had sharpened and now calculating.

  The man turned to Yang and said, "I see they are all working well."

  He turned to a drawer and took out card-creating supplies. "To be registered, you need to create one right now, in front of me." He said this with a calculating smile. "You can create any type you want."

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  Yang frowned. "The manual didn't mention actual testing."

  The man's smile grew thinner. "That's for those who have someone to vouch for them. Do you have a teacher or a relative registered with the association who can vouch for your credibility and confirm that you created these cards yourself and didn't buy or steal them?"

  Yang stared at him angrily, knowing he was being made to go through extra hoops. Maybe being punished for not being deferential to these people. For not showing the proper respect and fear they expected from someone of his station.

  Yang just gave a dead stare and took the blank card, energy stone, and pen the man offered. He began inscribing without another word.

  After so many times practicing, his movements were smooth and glided easily across the crystal surface. The man's expression grew serious as Yang worked. Yang noticed him watching carefully from the corner of his eye as he smoothly completed the design.

  Yang chose to recreate the light card since it was the easiest for him. His hand was steady. The energy flow consistent. The pattern formed cleanly, each line connecting to the next in perfect sequence.

  He was finally done after several minutes. The card glowed as the inscription locked into place when the end met the starting point. Yang pushed the completed card toward the man without comment.

  The man took the card in hand, examined it briefly, then stood. "I will be back shortly."

  Yang was now both angry and worried about what the hell was going on. If the man wanted to refuse registration, just do so. But why leave? What was he doing with the card?

  It took about ten to fifteen minutes before the man returned. Yang would have thought him a doppelganger with how he came back with a completely different expression, his hands full of items. The man smiled warmly and said, "Young man, my apologies. We have to be serious. We get many scammers trying to get into the Cardwright Association. We take registration very seriously. Don't want just anyone making and selling cards with our stamp of approval."

  Looking at his expression and the way he talked, one would think he was Yang's long-lost uncle, full of familial warmth and pride.

  Yang just looked at him and asked flatly, "Am I allowed to register now?"

  "Of course, of course!"

  "Here is the registration form," he said as he sat back in his chair and placed the items on the desk. He took out a sheet of paper and an inscription pen. "What did you say your name was?"

  "I didn't," Yang replied. "No one asked me."

  The man gave an uncomfortable smile. "Ah, those guys at the desk. Don't worry, I will have them disciplined. They should have had you fill this form when you came in to apply first."

  He gestured to the paper. "This is the standard form. I just need your name to fill it in."

  "Lucien Valemore."

  The man wrote it down carefully. "Age?"

  "Eighteen."

  "Very good, very good."

  The man took a blank card and began inscribing information onto it. Yang watched with interest as the man worked much faster than Yang could, his movements practiced and efficient. The inscription glowed briefly, and suddenly the card displayed Yang's name and registration information in glowing letters.

  The man pushed it toward him. "This is your official registration card. You can show it at any Cardwright Association branch and receive entrance and support. It will also allow you to buy supplies from the association at a rate below market price. A significant advantage for a new card creator."

  He also placed two different books forward. "These are the Grade One card inscription guides. Once you have mastered most of them, you can apply to become a Second Grade Cardwright. Each grade brings additional privileges and access to more advanced techniques."

  Each of these books was much thicker than the basic manual Lucien had owned. Substantially more comprehensive. Yang took the card and the books, examining them briefly.

  "Thank you," Yang said, standing to leave, taking his original five cards as well off the desk and placing them back in his pocket.

  The man also stood and showed him to the door, still smiling that warm uncle smile. "Good luck with your card creation, Mr. Valemore. I'm sure we'll be seeing great things from you."

  Yang nodded politely and made his way out of the room and back into the main hall.

  Yang was not stupid. He knew there was a reason the man had come back so friendly. Since Yang had arrived here, no one had bothered to ask his name or even introduce themselves. And suddenly this man had turned into a kind uncle, all smiles and helpful advice.

  Did they think him a fool?

  Something had happened in those ten to fifteen minutes. The man had taken Yang's freshly made card somewhere and that had changed the entire situation.

  Yang made his way toward the exit. Upon noticing him with the Grade One card inscription guides in his arms, the two men at the entrance desk almost had their eyes fall out of their sockets. Their expressions were a mix of shock and confusion. Yang ignored them completely.

  But as he neared the main door he felt eyes upon him. Not the buffoons at the desk. Someone else.

  Yang turned sharply and saw a silhouette on one of the upper floors looking down at him. It was too far away for him to see the face clearly, but he could tell the figure was watching him intently. Standing at an upper floor with hands clasped behind their back.

  Yang just turned and made his way out of the building, not unaware that he had ruffled some feathers today and wondering what the consequences would be.

  The iron gates closed behind him with a soft clang. Yang tucked the registration card safely into his inner coat pocket. Proof of his months of hard work.

  But the unease remained.

  Yang had attracted attention. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

  He made his way back through the streets toward his apartment, his mind turning over the encounter.

  Yang recognized that he'd just entered this world's power structure. The Cardwright Association now knew he existed. Knew he could create functional cards despite having no teacher or apprenticeship. Despite being poor and unknown.

  That made him interesting. And being interesting could be dangerous.

  Yang would need to be careful. Smart. He couldn't afford to draw too much attention too quickly. But he also couldn't afford to be too cautious. He needed to create cards. Needed to accumulate energy to fill that status bar.

  A careful balance. Like walking a tightrope.

  Yang had done difficult things before. He could do this too.

  The afternoon sun was hidden behind the perpetual smoke haze of Markech as Yang pulled his coat tighter against the chill and kept walking.