The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

Treasure chests upon treasure chests lined the walls of the vault. And though many of them were shut, Coin could tell that that they were all laden with coins. A few desks were arrayed in a semicircle just ahead of them, stacked with mounds of coins and pyramids of gold bars, which shone with a brilliance that made Coin's heartbeat quicken.

A few other goods were dotted about on the floor and shelves. Chalices, gems, boxes of preserved oil paintings. He followed the two men inside, eyes wide and jaw hanging agape while the two old men chatted among themselves, as if they weren't surrounded by the most beautiful treasure in all creation.

"How much were you hoping to withdraw?" Lunse asked.

Elijah hummed, his rheumy eyes inspecting every corner of the room. He made for a random chest and popped it open, adding an extra golden glare to the chamber. "I suppose we'll want a sizeable sum just to have on hand. You know how it is, things are expensive in Sentinel these days and it's good to have some physical cash to hand. Risks to security be damned."

"Oh, undoubtedly. But fortunately you have the funds to get by," Lunse replied.

The two men set about discussing specific numbers, and gossip heard around Arcadia's economy. Coin ignored this, subtly opening the lid of the nearest chest. Just as he had expected, it was loaded near to the brim with stacks of ducats. This was the case with every chest he peered into.

Coin's grasp of numeracy was still that of a novice. But he knew that even someone skilled in the field would struggle to count Elijah's wealth coin by coin. How much did he have? More importantly, Coin asked himself, how did he get so much money in the first place?

Eventually, the two men seemed to decide on an agreed sum. Elijah filled a canvas bag with ducats and hitched it to his hip. Then Lunse had a burly man bring a steel lockbox into the chamber, which was quickly filled with coins. The mimic watched all the while, trying his hardest not to drool or hyperventilate. That primordial animal part of his brain was commanding him to devour every scrap of gold in sight.

"Coin, my lad," Elijah said as the combination lock was adjusted on the lockbox. "Would you mind carrying this for me?"

And Coin did just that. Even if the money was held back by a steel shell, he was still more than happy to have a massive haul of gold curled in his arms. So excited was he that he barely attempted to mask his strength as he hoisted the box up.

Lunse and his burly employee blinked in shock. "My, you are... quite strong, for a short fellow," Lunse murmured, instantly having a better understanding of why he'd ended up in Elijah's employment.

"He drinks plenty of milk," Elijah quickly replied, making for the vault door. "Come along Coin. Thank you for your time, Lunse. Always a pleasure. Say hello to your family for me!"

The two reemerged onto the Merchant's Quarter. Coin continued staring at the lockbox in his arms, his mouth going dry. Eventually, once they were rounding a corner away from the bank, he regained enough of his wits to speak. "How did... how do you have so much money?"

"Hm?" Elijah glanced up, a blank look on his face. "Ah, well, a good deal of luck, I suppose. I was in the right place at the right time for some very lucrative deals. Had a rather massive business for a time and.... well I gave it up, you see." The more he spoke, the more his expression changed. A grim sadness blossomed on his wrinkled features. "Had to... step away, as it were. But I'd earned more than enough over the years to have a fund like that stored away. Though a few things in there are gifts I never saw fit to sell off or throw away."

He hardly seemed impressed by his own wealth, which caught Coin by surprise. His own wealth was a simple fact of his life, and he'd earned so much that he'd likely have died of old age before he could spend all of it.

"Then... what do we need this much money for? Did you have something in mind?" Coin asked.

Elijah grunted. "Nothing set in stone, we'll just need to see who's advertising down at the guild hall. But, as I said, it's costly to do business with clients in Sentinel, and it's a good idea to have physical cash for all the institutions that don't take checks. Before we get into all that, however." He pinched one of Coin's sleeves, and the mimic tried not to wince. "We really need to get you more respectable clothing."

They left the lockbox in one of their rented rooms and locked the door behind them. Essine had already left, but Elijah was sure she'd be back before sundown.

On their way back through the city, Coin noticed a few oddities. One was a man who stood on the corner of one street, using a pair of crates to give him extra height. He was dressed in a flowing white robe, an orange diamond stitched to the material above his heart.

"... And I say to you all that every ill in the world is a direct result of our own sin. Goblins attacking people in greater numbers than ever before, crime and degeneracy polluting our streets, reports of illness and plague to the east! It all stems from us, our own evil. Far too many of us have turned away from the teachings of the Goddess!" He gestured to the four-pointed diamond on his breast. "Honour! Courage! Charity! Wisdom! These are the four tenets we are supposed to embody, yet we are losing track of it! And suffer as a result!"

Elijah scoffed as they passed the crowd that had gathered near the shouting preacher. "Honestly, men like him are such a blight. Rabble rousers shrieking about virtues and the like."

Coin watched the man as they passed, one eyebrow raised high. "Are people like that... common? People shouting and raving like that?"

"Usually in the larger cities," Elijah admitted with a shrug. "For whatever reason, cities tend to draw in people like that. I suppose there's just no shortage of those looking to gain attention. Though at least that one is wearing clothes."

"And what about those people?" Coin asked, raising a hand and motioning to a small group of people on the opposite street. They were cloistered behind a wooden hut, handing out bundles of printed paper in exchange for ducats.

Elijah nodded. "Those are newsmen. Something of a new development, you only ever see them in the larger cities. They have ways of taking in important events occurring in the city or the surrounding area, and disseminate that information to the rest of the city. For a price."

Coin looked to one of the pages in passing, hanging from the roof of the hut. "Wizard... sets sail... for... new world?" Coin murmured.

"Oh?" Elijah perked up. "Well, I'll be, Kairo actually went and did it. Don't know if I'll ever see the old fool again. But I suppose it was just a matter of time. He'd spent years jawing on about land beyond the Treacherous Sea. Wizard or not, he'll likely die like every other man who tried to sail to the far west."

The mimic briefly remembered the map he had seen, the outline of the coast and the sea beyond Arcadia's shores. All that vastness was water, a river that apparently stretched on forever. "There's really nothing out there?" he asked.

"Just storms and tides. Beyond which lies the edge of the world. Nothing for you to worry about. There's already plenty of business to be found in the land we currently have."

Coin found himself being led deeper into the Merchant's Quarter, where the streets were lined by storefronts. Eventually this led to a string of buildings that had all manner of clothing framed inside their windows.

But the one Elijah settled on was a rather large shop that sported a nearly carved wooden above the doorway: Rosenstern and Guildencrantz's Clothing Emporium. He grinned as he held the door open for Coin, motioning him inside.

"What we have here," the old man began, "is one of the finest tailors in all of Arcadia. A personal favourite of mine, an institution that has seen me clothed through many seasons and occasions. I'd look like a tramp without their help."

Coin tensed as he passed what appeared to be an entire gallery of... wooden humans, standing as rigid as statues and adorned in an assortment of finely tailored outfits. He poked one, just to make sure it wouldn't move. It was an absolute relief when it didn't.

"This is weird," Coin mumbled.

"Weird? Hardly. Those mannequins cost us plenty of gold!" The voice, high-pitched and elegant, came from the back of the shop. An elf with tanned skin and a shaved head bustled into the room, adorned in a white coat and black suit that was tailored around his tall, spindly frame. Dark brown hair covered his jawline, immaculately groomed. "They're some of the finest money can buy."

"They are a little bit eerie, Rosenstern," Elijah admitted as he ventured inside. "But I can tell you're still doing well, regardless."

"But of course," the elf replied. "As if the fine people of Sentinel could live without us. And I see that you're still alive, despite being absolutely ancient by human standards."

Another elf, presumably Guildencrantz, emerged from the back room. He was markedly more portly than his companion, his skin as pale as Illyana's had been, and his golden hair was tied back in a knot. Small glasses sat on the broad bridge of his nose. "Well, you know our dear Elijah," he said with a chuckle. "He may well outlive any elf, such is his luck."

"To the misfortune of everyone else," Rosenstern replied. He smirked at the human all the same. "I see your suit is still in good shape. A rarity, considering how reckless you tend to be with the clothing we painstakingly make for you."

"Of course. I'd sooner die than face another lecture."

"Tear another of my masterpieces, and I'll skip the lecture and go straight to killing you. Guildencrantz may tolerate nonsense, I most certainly do not."

Guildencrantz snickered. "So brutal."

"Well, what brings you here today?" Rosenstern said, folding his slim arms.

"Looking to get something made," he clapped a hand onto Coin's shoulder, "for my apprentice."

"Apprentice?" Guildencrantz regarded Coin briefly, his eyes darting to Rosenstern. The two men seemed uncomfortable, briefly, but the portly man quickly righted himself by clearing his throat. "Ah, well, you can hardly be a decent merchant if you don't look the part."

The elf fished a measuring tape from on of the many pockets of his smock, and proceeded to bustle around Coin. He held the length to his shoulders, then down the length of one arm, then hitched it tight around Coin's waist. Once he finished, the blond bustled toward a notepad on his desk and quickly scribbled a few numbers down.

"My, you really have gotten old. Can't even count the measurements with your bare eye," Rosenstern mocked, checking the written numbers. "Hmph. I had those guessed as soon as I saw the boy."

"Ah, my friend. You may prefer to guess. But I like to be precise," Guildencrantz mocked. "Still, Elijah, we happen to have a few suits to meet your apprentice's proportions. Well, with a modest bit of adjustment on the sleeves, at least. But knowing you, I assume you want something special?"

Elijah considered this while Coin regarded the mannequins again. "Something water proof, and insulated for the cold. The Reaping Season will be here before we know it, after all," he said.

"Then you are in luck," Rosenstern said, moving toward a line of mannequins at the far end of the shop. Five of them, identically posed, wearing long coats over their shoulders. "We had these brought in from Eldergard just the other week, a practical kind of fashion worn by their highland traders. Waterproof outer layer, warm inner layer, and an abundance of inner pockets. Even got them in a few different colours."

Coin approached the, inspecting each in turn. But ultimately, as if drawn in by magnetism, his attention was firmly rooted on one that was emerald green with a golden trim. "That one," the mimic proudly said. "I like the look of that one."