The merchant's wagon stopped three hundred yards from the North Gate of the Capital.

Aleric didn't complain about the heat or the smell of the unwashed crowd. He sat on the grain sacks, his brown eyes moving slowly across the scene. He wasn't looking at the golden banners of the Empire; he was watching the people. He watched how they shuffled forward, how they wiped sweat from their brows, and how the line simply stopped moving.

"Stuck again," the merchant grunted, falling back against the chair. "Mana-scanners are down, must be. Happens every time the humidity drops."

Aleric said nothing. He looked to a guard at the head of the line, yelling at a farmer. The farmer's face was red; the man was fast moving, frantic. To Aleric, he was expelling energy for no result.

"You stay here, lad," the merchant said, reaching for a water skin. "I'm going to see if a few coppers can move us up."

Aleric hopped down before the merchant could finish. He didn't say where he was going. He walked toward the gate, his dark coat barely moving as he stepped through the mud.

At the gate, a massive crystal pillar stood on a pedestal. It was supposed to glow white for citizens and blue for travelers. Right now, it was a dead, muddy grey. Two guards were hitting the base with the butts of their spears.

"Cursed thing," one guard hissed. "The Architect promised this model was 'unbreakable'."

"It's not broken," Aleric said.

He hadn't raised his voice, but it carried through the noise. The guards stopped hitting the crystal and looked at him.

"Who asked you, boy? Back in line."

Aleric didn't move back. He looked at the base of the crystal, then at the sky. "The atmospheric pressure has shifted the mana density. The intake valve on the pedestal is calibrated for a different altitude. It's starving for energy, so it's stuck in a reboot loop."

The guards stared at him. "A what loop?"

"It's trying to start, but it doesn't have the fuel," Aleric said simply. He pointed. "Move your spear. You're blocking the vent."

"I'll move my spear into your—"

Aleric didn't wait. He stepped forward and tapped a small, recessed stone at the base of the pedestal. It wasn't a magical strike; it was a physical adjustment. He felt the vibration of the mana through his fingertip and gave it a sharp, calculated flick.

The crystal hummed. The grey cloud inside it dissolved, replaced by a steady, surgical white light. The heavy iron portcullis above the gate groaned and began to rise.

"It's working," the second guard whispered. "How did you... are you a magic scholar or something?"

"No," Aleric said.

He didn't stick around to be thanked. He walked through the gate as soon as it was high enough to pass under. He didn't look back at the merchant, nor did he look at the hundreds of people now rushing through.

He entered the city and stopped.

Grandis was loud and chaotic, and the streets were laid out so that it would take as long as possible to get anyplace in town—it was a very poor design. He needed a map, a library, and a quiet place from which to watch. He would be here for several years, watching how this empire's gears turned, before he stepped in to give them a rule they would never be able to disregard. For now, he just wanted to see the sights.

He commenced walking, his eyes meeting the flicker of a shadow behind him—a jagged ink-black shape that stretched across the white marble walls, unnoticed by the shouting crowds.

The Capital was big. For Aleric, though, it was simply a larger data set, one with a lot more mistakes to find.