The road to Eldergate wound through vast plains and scattered forest patches. The air carried the scent of pine and river mist. It should have been a peaceful journey but every person in the escort felt tension beneath the calm landscape. Ressa walked ahead like a guardian wolf scanning every tree line. The scout named Torin moved silently alongside the road. The healer Mira kept an eye on Alan as if he were made of glass. Even the mage observer from the kingdom, Master Valen, kept his staff ready.

Alan studied the land with careful eyes. Traveling the frontier gave him something he never had while tied to Dustfall. Perspective. He saw caravans struggling through rough paths. He saw isolated villages with poor trade access. He saw hunters carrying beast cores without any idea how much they were truly worth. It reminded him of his childhood in Dustfall before the exchange existed. A world without clarity.

As the group stopped by a stream for water, Torin returned with news. Two groups have been following us since morning. One to the south tree line. One behind the ridge. Ressa nodded immediately. The guild? Torin shrugged. Could be thieves. Could be bandits. Or could be officials watching from afar.

Alan set his notebook on a rock and wrote quickly. If they were thieves, they would have attacked already. If they were bandits, they would wait for night. If they were officials… they would want to observe how Dustfall’s guildmaster traveled and behaved outside his domain. The kingdom liked testing people. They wanted to see if Alan traveled with humility or arrogance. With fear or strategy.

Master Valen stepped beside him. You should not overthink this. The capital has many eyes. Not all are enemies. Alan replied calmly. But none are friends until proven otherwise.

Valen gave a faint smirk. Wise for someone your age.

They continued through the afternoon. At sunset they stopped at a small roadside settlement called Thornbridge. It was barely more than a cluster of wood huts and a single tavern. But the tavern was full of adventurers and traders from the north. When Alan entered the room fell strangely quiet. Word traveled fast. Some stared in awe. Others in suspicion. A few in envy.

The tavern keeper hurried over. Guildmaster Grove. An honor. What brings you so far from Dustfall. Alan remained humble. Only a journey to the capital. Nothing more. The tavern keeper lowered his voice. Be careful. The capital likes taking what does not belong to it.

Ressa’s eyes scanned the room. She leaned in. There are watchers here. Four of them. Alan nodded. Let them watch. If they report honestly, we gain trust. If they report lies, their lies will reveal more than the truth.

Later that night, as the escort prepared to rest, a cloaked woman approached Alan. Her steps were quiet, but her voice strong. You are the boy who changed the mana trade. Alan recognized her clothing style. Western desert clans. Rare in this region.

She introduced herself. My name is Sira. My people live far from the kingdom, beyond the dunes. We heard of your exchange. Traders say your price boards changed how caravans survive. You may not know it, but your work affects lands far beyond Dustfall.

Alan listened carefully. Sira continued. The desert is cruel. Mana cores are life for us. If prices are stable we can plan our journeys. Fewer die on the dunes. So I offer you information. A gift of thanks.

She handed him a sealed clay tablet. It contained hunting patterns of desert mana beasts and dates of their seasonal migration. Extremely rare information. Something even the kingdom might not possess.

Sira warned him. But be careful. Stability in one region disturbs another. When you make the frontier safer you make the inner cities more nervous. When you give value to the desert you take bargaining power from the kingdom.

Alan bowed slightly. Thank you. I will remember this.

Sira smiled. The desert remembers you too.

She vanished into the night.

Ressa approached immediately. Do you trust her. Alan replied. I trust information. Not people. But this information is valuable. It helps expand the exchange beyond the frontier.

Master Valen overheard and responded calmly. The more regions rely on your exchange the more the kingdom will consider you a threat. The more they will want you close rather than free.

Alan closed his notebook. Then I must understand them before they understand me.

That night Alan dreamed of Dustfall’s exchange filled with traders from all lands. He dreamed of new price boards, new maps, new alliances. But he also dreamed of shadows growing taller behind him. Reaching for the exchange. Reaching for Dustfall.

When he woke at dawn he understood something important.
The journey to Eldergate was no longer simply a summons.
It was a test.
For Dustfall. For the exchange.
For him.

And he intended to pass it.