"How about this one?" Baira suggests, showing me her take on another design.

We've spent hours now just going back and forth with different ideas and designs. Each time Iro and I come up with something, his apprentice quickly scribbles together a concept on paper with a stick of charcoal—which helps explain the staining on her hands.

Her work is really impressive for how fast it is, and I wonder if she's got some sort of artistic class mixed in with her leatherworking. It would make sense.

This one has a higher neck, providing extra ankle support and lacing up all the way up to the top.

"Oh, a [boot]!"

"What's that?" Baira asks.

"It's uh...a heavier sort of shoe," I clarify. "With more protection. You should make the bottom thicker, and maybe have a more distinct heel."

"I thought you didn't like the elevated heel," Iro grumbles.

One of the earlier designs was a very high heeled option, designed to "correct" the shape of my foot to more closely resemble Fa'aun legs.

"Not that elevated," I comment. "And it's not that I didn't like it—I just need to focus on function over form."

Actually I kind of loved the high heel design. It would make me a bit taller among Fa'aun, and I would definitely wear shoes like that to a party as long as I didn't have to walk there.

"Heeled boots are for fashion or riding," Violet comments. "What we want is something closer to a hiking boot, with sturdy soles and good traction."

"Okay, maybe forget the heel..."

And so it goes, for most of the day, trading concepts back and forth, refining ideas, and hammering out details until we've narrowed it down to three designs.

Option one—the most basic. A simple shoe vaguely based on my vague interpretation of crocs, moccasins, or loafers. Designed to slip on and off without laces, it would have very little support or protection, but should be easy to make comfortable. It needs to be fitted carefully or work with socks to keep it from falling off, especially in more, uh, dynamic situations.

Option two—actually a bit of a downgrade from the first. A high-heeled, open-toed sandal that is absolutely more form than function. It was proposed as a compromise from one of the initial "false hoof" designs made to mimic Fa'aun biology before I clarified the need for something practical—and the fact that there's no way I'm walking around in what is basically a ballerina's pointe position. Reasonably speaking, there's no way this is the only design we use, but I really liked the look, so I wanted to keep them on the table.

Finally, the latest design, and the one we spent the most work on. It started with me attempting to design trainers from scratch, but quickly ballooned into a heavily reinforced hiking boot that's practically a piece of armor. This is, frankly speaking, the Vi option. It's the most complex and difficult, probably the most expensive, and might be flat out impossible for the leatherworkers to actually make.

None of that deters Iro, who is actually very enthusiastic about trying to make the combat boots.

"I suppose before we move any further, we have to discuss the matter of budget," Iro says. "How much can you afford to spend on this project?"

I frown and pull out the bundles of coins, tied together by lengths of string, that Vi won from the sailors. Other than the fact that it's a few months of a sailor's salary, I have no idea how much these are worth yet.

Iro smiles politely at me and turns to Rara.

"House Goa will cover the commission," she says with a dismissive wave. "Just put my name on the invoice."

Blushing, I put away my petty coins. I probably should have guessed that gambling winnings don't buy you custom commissions from master artisans.

"Don't look so forlorn, Miss Allie," Iro reassures me. "The materials you're providing represent a significant portion of the cost. In fact..."

He taps on Baira's rendition of the combat boot design.

"It would be a waste to use your dungeon materials on anything but this, but it would also be a waste to use those materials in a first attempt. We need to develop new techniques, refine the designs, and test prototypes. Baira?"

"I'd estimate at least a month to complete the optimal design to client standards. Five to ten years to meet yours," she says, ignoring her master snorting at the joke. "However, if we use only basic undyed leather and the simplest design, it would only be a matter of hours to finish the first prototype."

"You've been handing off the simpler ideas to Roro?"

"Yes master."

"Bring me his best attempt."

I blink, surprised by how fast this is moving. Baira slips inside and returns a moment later with...well, a pair of shoes. They are basic—even more basic than the moccasin design, having more in common with the socks I made than any of Baira's drawings. But there's no way to call them anything but leather shoes, no matter how basic they may be.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Iro inspects them critically, turning them over in his hands while he tokes on his pipe and grumbles quietly to himself.

"Boy's cutting corners, as usual," he sighs. "Shoddy stitching, and the seam is right where she'd be placing her weight. I assume that would be uncomfortable."

"Yeah, depending on how stiff it is, it could even be painful," I confirm.

He wobbles the shoes to test their stiffness and shrugs. "Probably too soft for that, but you'd know better. Think this is an improvement on your work?"

I hate to admit it, but it is. Even without a dedicated sole, the tough leather provides almost as much protection as the rawhide with much better flexibility and traction. It's probably not as comfortable to wear, but I can just take the soles off of my slippers and wear them as socks. The seam might be an issue, but between the socks, the soft leather, and the fact that I don't weigh much in the first place, I can already say I'd prefer those to what I currently have.

"I think so, yes."

"Then they're yours," he says, casually tossing them over. "Along with any other functional prototypes. We'll make workable versions of the first and second design out of normal materials, then build our way up to the final product. That'll give your pet time to produce the amount of silk we need and give us time to refine our techniques."

"So you'll do it?" I ask. "I was worried you wouldn't want to waste time on something only I can use."

"Miss, I'm an artisan at heart," Iro says. "I specialize in custom work. Most of what I make only has utility for my clients. Others might prefer something more routine or marketable, but that's not what we do here. Besides—Baira, how many levels?"

"Two already, master!" she replies happily. "Roro won't tell me, but I'm sure he's gained a few."

"Novelty is good. The Goddess rewards us for being interesting," he muses. "Maybe even I'll gain a level when the real thing is finished. Work like this is how I got such a high tier in the first place, why house Dou is willing to leave one of their sons under the care of a no-name like me."

"And Rara's money doesn't hurt either," Baira adds with a wink.

Rara chuckles. "It never does, does it?"

"Thank you," I say, before turning to Rara. "Both of you. I honestly thought this would be impossible."

Iro snorts. "It's a novel request, but not that complicated. I assume these shoes of yours are commonplace where you're from."

"They are, but—well, I'm just glad to be wrong."

[Level up!]

Teacher is now level 7.

+2 Ego.

Oh! Two levels? After I've been struggling for so long to develop this class, I wonder why it's suddenly moving again. I think Vi mentioned she has some theories, but I didn't get a chance to ask her about it last night.

With the designs finalized and a plan in place, we say our farewells. I get to try on my new shoes, and Baira even helps me turn my old slippers back into socks before adjusting the shoes to fit more comfortably.

"We'll send word to House Goa when the next prototypes are ready," she says while she sees us out. "Since Master Iro himself has taken an interest, I think we should have something wearable in a few days."

"That fast?"

"That's just the first iteration," she clarifies. "I've scheduled two weeks to complete the first two designs with regular materials, one more to refine techniques for the magical ones, and then a final week minimum to finish the final product. Realistically, there may be complications along the way that extend the timeline, but we'll keep you informed."

"Thank you again," I say with my faux Fa'aun bow. "This really means a lot to me."

"No, thank you!" she responds. "It's rare for Iro to get so interested in a new project, and I might even reach a new tier from this."

"Well I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving," Rara sighs. "We've been talking business all day! Do you want to join us for dinner, Baira?"

The leatherworker's apprentice shakes her head. "Sorry, Rara, but I think this is going to keep me busy for the whole month."

"Alright, well you know where to find me!"

"Of course! And thanks again for the introduction!"

Rara beams proudly and we bid her friend farewell a final time before making our way back up the stairwell and into the alley, which has gone from merely dim to downright dark during our time in Iro's shop. My stomach growls, reminding me that we really have spent pretty much the entire day just talking about shoes.

"You know Rara, I'm kind of surprised," I comment as we exit onto the street, illuminated by the soft orange glow of the crystal lamps.

"About what?" she asks.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you and Baira seem to be actual...uh...friends," I observe. "I guess somewhere in my head I was just expecting her to be one contact among many."

"Ah, haha," Rara chuckles lightly. "No, it's fine. I get that a lot. That's how most people in my field operate, and it's a lot easier that way. I do have lots of contacts like that—I pretty much know everybody—but I pride myself on having actual friends."

"It must be exhausting," I muse.

It's hard to remember specifics from my old life, but I can remember trying to juggle so many different connections and obligations that it was practically a full time job. Scheduling conflicts, incompatible social circles, and quiet friends falling through the cracks were an every day part of my life and...in hindsight, I feel like I might have overdone it. I gave too much of my time to other people and didn't leave anything for myself. Or...selves.

"It's not easy," Rara admits. "I'm giving you extra attention right now because you're new, but I'd do the same favors for any of my friends. The trick is finding ways to bring people together—this was as much a favor to Baira as it was to you."

I'm about to reply, but I'm brought up short by Draga suddenly stopping and holding his hand out in front of us.

"Lady Tara, are you expecting a driver?"

I peek around him to see what he's talking about. Even at night, the streets of Stebaari are quite busy, with people bustling past on either side of the road. In the middle, however, there's only one carriage on the road, the driver's eyes locked on our group.

"Yes," she replies nervously, "but that's not him."

"Allie, are you armed?" he asks, his voice dropping low.

A shiver runs down my spine, and my hands quickly confirm three things. Knife, candle, rock. We can't just walk around the city with my spear, but the knife never leaves our side. The pack of mana candles is being held by Talla's family and I suspect we're never getting them back, but Maggie managed to sneak at least one out for us to hold onto in case of emergencies. Finally, the rock. Just a pebble, really. Something I picked up in the gardens—expendable ammunition. Ironically, the pebble is probably the most drastic measure, and very much a last resort in a place as busy as the city.

"Yes."

Rara edges a few steps closer to Draga. "What's going on? We're in the middle of the city."

Before he can reply, the man driving the carriage pulls out a gun and points it right at us.

"Now!"

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