"And stay out, you filthy mutant." Dominic heard the shopkeeper's voice shout as he picked himself up from the dusty roadway.
That made the fourth time this week he had been physically thrown out of a Noble run establishment after he had gone in attempting to sell his salvaged goods.
Stupid human Noble shopkeepers, it wasn't like they were the only species wandering around this planet. They weren't even the strongest one, just the most numerous.
The only problem he had with that fact was the small matter of him being born a Sorcerer, an innate magic user with a hint of a magical beast's blood in his veins.
In his case, the blood of a Golden Dragon, which had given him the horns that had alerted the shopkeeper to his nonhuman status when his hat slipped to the side. But also, more importantly, his blood had given him the ability to channel mana for spells without using his own internal reserves, an ability that he had never heard of anyone but the Dragon Princes of his home nation having.
However, his home had already fallen, he had fled to Cygnia, and today he was flat broke and hungry. Giving up on finding a buyer for his goods now wasn't an option.
Perhaps one more stealthy trip to the recyclers would turn up something good if he could avoid the guards. He was always good with his hands, and plenty of these rich snobs would throw out perfectly good stuff that was only a little damaged. Change out a watch strap or replace a crystal focus, and the items they called junk were as good as new.
But none of the dealers in the uptown district would buy from him, and he had been regretting coming to this city from the very moment that he had arrived. A week of continued rejection hadn't helped his mood at all.
Even sleeping in the forest was an improvement on this filthy city.
But this was where he needed to be.
Cygnia City was the seat of the Cygnia Royal Military, and home to all of the greatest minds in the nation. Not to mention the wealthiest ones.
Alone, Dominic was no match for the foreign army that had burned his hometown, and his entire nation, to the ground.
Not that he hadn't tried. Dozens had fallen to the childish magic of an enraged preteen Dragonkin Sorcerer before the remainder of the raiding party had been forced to flee. But he had been too late to save the people of the village.
It was a senseless tragedy, civilians wiped out for territory that nobody actually cared about. That was his home, and Dominic would not forget.
He was certain that with sufficient dedication, he could gain enough influence that he could convince the Army to claim the lands along their border and pay back every life that the cowards had taken a thousandfold.
Even as he thought it, Dominic knew that it was a childish fancy, completely unrealistic in the real world.
But he was still going to try.
All he had to do was make it to the Royal Family's Apprentice induction, which should be announced within the month.
Well, he also needed a proper apprentice's trade skill stone to prove his worth, then an impressive enough showing that they were convinced to actually hire him.
But that was a minor detail.
With a position within the Royal Palace, he would gain the right to propose new ideas for consideration by the army. But more importantly, if they adopted one of his ideas, he could ask for a boon in lieu of financial compensation.
Taking control of the lost bit of forest where his home used to be was a small thing for the Cygnian Army.
While Dominic wandered the streets of Cygnia City, he took in the appearances of the people around him. Almost all wore fancy coats and hats. Some were even wearing goggles or gas masks, and steam-driven or magitech vehicles were everywhere on the road, spewing constant streams of steam and smoke into the air.
He might have been born in a rural border village, filled with magic and alchemy, but Dominic was certain that he would never belong inside these overdeveloped Technomage built cities. Half of the locals didn't even have the decency to power their steam carriages and trucks with magic like civilized beings. To save money on construction, they used coal or liquid fuel instead.
Why would any intelligent species do that when they could just solve their problems with magic?
Dominic knew the answer to that, though he didn't want to admit it.
Most of the humans didn't have any innate affinity for Magic. The best that they could manage was to attune themselves to a magical gem or Magitech device to gain access to the magic contained within, and then recharge the item with a Mana Core, either extracted from a monster's corpse, or artificially created.
But even with all his complaints about the coal burning, there was abundant magic in the city as well. He could see it in the skill gems worn on jewellery, in the streetlamps overhead that looked like gas flames but were burning mana.
"What is going on with the shopkeepers here? Is there something wrong with their brains? Who refuses to buy quality goods at a discount?" He whispered to himself as he stood against the filthy brick wall, looking up at the sky for answers.
But there were no answers to his troubles, only more questions. Questions and airships, floating on huge balloons and driven by propellers through the sky.
His presence was starting to attract attention, a lone young man standing still while everyone else was rushing to get somewhere, so Dominic adjusted his hat over his short golden horns and pulled his hood back over his head for an extra measure of safety as he joined the flow of foot traffic toward what appeared to be a Library.
"Welcome to the Cygnia City Conservatory. Do you have a pass, or would you like a day ticket?" The valet by the door asked.
Dominic hesitated. He didn't have the money for a ticket, no matter how nice the filtered air inside the conservatory was. He hadn't even noticed that he was trembling with hunger until the valet spoke again.
"Would you like me to call you a Doctor? I get a discount rate on callouts from the Conservatory." The young man asked.
Dominic shook his head and focused on the world around him. If he was going to find something to eat today, he was going to have to come up with a plan.
He quickly read the valet's name from his name tag. "My apologies, Mister Dalton. I should be fine if I can rest for a moment. Is there somewhere to sit here?"
"Yes, Young Sir, there on your right are the benches for waiting," Dalton replied with a professional smile for the slender youth in front of him. With the hood up and his hat firmly in place, the valet hadn't noticed the horns on his head that marked Dominic as a demihuman.
If he had, his attitude would certainly have changed, the Sorcerers and their kin had a reputation as troublemakers in the city.
They were marked as trouble in general, according to most people.
Unlike the Techno Witches, the Artificers, the Mages and the Wizards, all of whom were still humans who could use magic, the Sorcerers were part magical beast, and their tempers could be volatile, with a physique to back up their threats.
Valet Dalton did his best not to look judgmental as he stared at the stranger. He seemed a bit disoriented, but that could happen if you spent too much time outside in the heat, he heard.
Personally, he didn't like to leave the filtered air of the Conservatory, and he even paid a premium for an apartment right here within its walls.
He was about to extend his hand to assist Dominic, but the boy was already out of reach and moving toward the bench to rest.
Dalton couldn't help but notice that, despite the heat, he was still wrapped in the long oilcloth jacket he was wearing. It was battered with years of wear, but quite fashionable, with the brass cog work on the sleeves and the hood's row of brass rivets. Still, it was far too warm to be wearing it buttoned to the neck on a day like today.
"Dear World Dragon, where have you led me, and why isn't there food?" Dominic muttered as he watched the elaborately dressed people hurry about their day.
A tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to the present and the flow of wealthy people around his.
"Excuse me, Sir. The benches are for paying customers only. If you're not going to buy a ticket, you need to scram." An older security guard informed Dominic while giving Dalton an annoyed glare for letting this obvious beggar into the conservatory.
"My apologies. I will be on my way." Dominic whispered, not wanting to cause a scene in this new city where he didn't know any of the unspoken rules.
His long strides took him out of the noble district and down the increasingly crowded streets toward the clanging of steel on steel that he recognized as the sound of a smithy.
With luck, he should find some answers there. A blacksmith always knew where to find what you needed. You just had to catch them between projects, as they didn't react well to being interrupted.
As he stopped to catch his breath and straighten his clothes out in front of the building, Dominic heard the smith talking to a customer.
"Aye, I will get that to you as quick as I can, but steel and copper are both in short supply these days, so you will have to wait until I've got another shipment in to make it from." A raspy voice that he assumed was the smith was saying.
"Well, make it quick, or I'll find a smith who can get me what I need, understand old man?"
The deeper voice sounded incredibly frustrated in its retort, then a few seconds later, a large nobleman in a black leather jacket which had brass and silver decorations all over it and dragged the ground when he walked, stomped out of the building and got into one of the waiting steam carriages.
It seemed to have mystic runes all over it, but they weren't in any magical language that Dominic had seen before. He might not know how to read most of them, but he had grown up in a village full of Techno Witches, Dragonkin, and Artificers. So he had at least seen the more common ones.
The vehicle gave a whistle as it pulled out into traffic, and Dominic sensed the magic that was fuelling the furnace of the oddly decorated contraption.
"I don't suppose that you're looking for work, young lad?" The raspy voice of the Blacksmith asked from behind him, pulling Dominic's attention from the vehicles on the road.
Dominic had always been fascinated by the Blacksmith's craft, despite his parents' insistence that such common jobs were not for him. Though, with his home gone, such considerations no longer really held any weight.
But so far, he hadn't been able to obtain the Trade Skill Core that was necessary to begin his training for the profession.
The Trade Skill Cores were a magitech item that would attune to their users the first time that they were upgraded, and the ability to create them was limited to Master level or higher tradesmen.
The Trade Skill Core for Blacksmiths was one of the acceptable base cores for an Apprentice Magical Engineer, which Dominic hoped to officially become with the next Cygnia Royal Apprentice trial. The other options for the trade would be Archmage and Runemaster, both of which required a much higher level of difficulty to obtain.
The old smith continued. "You look capable enough for a Dragonkin Sorcerer your age.
You don't see many of the Sorcerer sorts around here, but I would know Dragon Magic anywhere. How about we work a deal? You bring me the materials I need, and I will help you level up your trade skills. I'm sure you know a thing or two about making a deal."
Dominic laughed despite himself.
Yes, who would know better about making a deal than a refugee from the forest? Other than bartering for goods, he didn't recall making a formal deal in his life. But if he had grown up in the city, then shady deals would certainly have been a part of everyday life.