After her tears had dried, Autumn ventured to ask more about the House of Blooms, considering its unique placement. 

The House of Blooms only catered to female clientele and purely possessed female staff. In other words, it was a lesbian bordello. The news did shock Autumn as she hadn’t the best impression of medieval eras, granted that was based upon Earth’s culture. However, unlike an ordinary brothel that’d hire whores and night escorts, courtesans staffed the House of Blooms. The difference being courtesans could use other means to entertain their clients other than sex, for example, art or music, poetry, massages, or even just someone to talk to who’d listen.

Of course, they told Autumn that sex was still a major part of their business model, much to her embarrassment. The teasing looks she had gotten had lit her face up brilliantly.

To escape the embarrassment, Autumn had stutteringly mentioned that she was learning to be an artist. Hearing that, the girls had enthusiastically shown Autumn to their private art gallery filled with paintings either they or their clients had drawn.

As such, this is where Nethlia eventually found her wayward companion.

Autumn had been in the middle of drawing the languid figure of Lia as she stretched out upon a pile of feathered cushions when Nethlia arrived.

“How’d you end up here?” Nethlia queried.

“Nethlia! You’re back!” Saphielle shouted.

A clamor erupted in the studio as all the women who had followed swamped the tall demoness. Nethlia herself looked overwhelmed and amused by their sudden antics, having to fend off a barrage of questions.

“Not even a hello for us, Nethlia?” Lia pouted.

Nethlia let out a sigh and a fanged smile her way.

“Yes, yes. Hello Lia, hello everyone. While it is nice to see you all again and I would like to catch up, I need to steal Autumn away. We need to head over to the Adventurer’s Guild before it gets too dark.”

Lia frowned.

“You’re not going to stay in the guild hall bunks, are you? We have some free rooms here, along with your old room.”

“I made a deal with the madam, so don’t worry. We’ll be back before nightfall.”

With unmatched strength, Nethlia gently removed the women who’d clung onto her, much to their delight. Soon, Autumn was freed from her predicament and now walked alongside Nethlia, heading back to the lobby.

“You alright? They didn’t annoy you too much?” Nethlia asked.

Such a simple question that holds a depth of meaning in its answer.

For now, Autumn felt better than she had in a long time. The act of letting go, of telling her tale, had been a release she desperately needed, but as all her experiences with therapy could tell. It wouldn’t last long. In the end, all she said was…

“I’m alright.”

Nethlia gazed down upon Autumn for a long silent moment before handing her a familiar pouch. Inside was a handful of coins that bore the image of a horned female Inferni on one side and a flaming sun on the other.

“These are Empire coins. The madam didn’t know what nation the ones you had were from, either relevant or historical. However, the purity and weight were fine, so I got an equivalent exchange.”

Sure enough, the coinage amounted to: 1 gold, 12 silver, and 32 copper pieces.

“How much do I owe you?” Autumn asked as she rummaged through her coins.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Startled, Autumn gazed up at Nethlia.

“But what about the inn fee and the food?”

Nethlia shrugged, unconcerned.

“It doesn’t matter anymore and you’ll need it yourself. I’ll be fine. I have some money saved up.”

Still unconvinced and guilty at heart, Autumn was about to argue some more, but Nethlia interrupted her.

“Anyway, we need to get to the Adventurer’s Guild before dark, lest it close on us.”

Autumn stowed away her words with a frown, hurrying to catch up with the long strides of the demoness warrior.

Nethlia and Autumn were bid farewell from the House of Blooms by its courtesans, as if they were heading to war. They laced over-dramatic goodbyes with amusement and joy. Autumn had to duck her head to hide a slight smile underneath her hat.

The guild district wasn’t that far from the red-light district, which made sense given they would be a principal source of clientele. As the afternoon turned into evening, the brothels became lively. Like the air had been lit by a spark, the atmosphere of the district became heated and stuffy. Autumn’s ears burned as the sounds of frivolity and decadence resounded.

Luckily, with Nethlia serving as an icebreaker pushing against the flow of the crowd, the pair could easily make it to the end of the street and out into the guild district.

A central open-air square dominated the space, around which several massive buildings crept into the sky. In the center, a fountain burbled and spouted from a colossal marble statue of a nude Inferni demoness. The statue had a metaphysical weight. It drew the eye curiously. Not magic, but something different, something…more. 

As if to say: “Here lies a hero.”

Nethlia only spared a glance at the imposing statue before pushing her way past lingering crowds to one hall that sat to the north. This particular hall was almost certainly the Adventurer’s Guild, not just because of the large sign above the entrance, but because it was the loudest and rowdiest.

As Autumn approached the front doors, she wondered if she’d be challenged by some sort of arrogant young master or a drunken adventurer hazing the fresh blood. If so, she just hoped she’d be registered before Nethlia destroyed them. Autumn entered the hall and a wall of pipe smoke and ale mixed with the powerful stench of sweat hit her. 

Standing just in the doorway's front, Autumn took in the main chamber.

The hall was cavernous before her. It stretched upwards through multiple floors of silk-swathed balconies. In the center of the space, a solid wooden pillar sat inside a well-adorned circular bar. Well-dressed bartenders in guild colors dashed between hundreds of taps regularly to fill mugs with beer and ale for an endless stream of thirsty adventurers. Copper pipes lead upwards like swirling and twisting vines, towards a series of massive barrels set into the ceiling above the pillar. The sheer quantity of alcohol flowing through such a setup boggled the mind.

Around the sides of the hall, a series of stone fireplaces burned away gleefully, warming the patrons. The chamber was utterly packed. Upon elevated platforms away from the main hustle and bustle, individuals sat at low tables drinking and cavorting. Near the entrance in a shaded corner, a group of bunnykin sat dividing up a small pile of gold and items.

“Come along. The registration is on the second floor.”

Nethlia led Autumn further into the guild, pushing past other adventurers.

Glancing around, Autumn spotted a solitary demoness lounging by a fireplace. What drew Autumn’s attention mainly was that the demoness was attired like a typical pirate with striped pants and tall leather boots.

As she nonchalantly picked at her nails with a thin dagger, her bright eyes met with Autumn’s and she winked.

Further into the hall, Autumn heard a harmony of instruments. Looking around for the source, Autumn saw a stage on the far side of the hall. There, a motley crew of bards and musicians played. Paying closer attention to the ongoing melodies and rhythms, Autumn realized they were performing a musical duel.

An elven woman, with a tall and slender frame, held aloft a gleaming violin. From her dexterous fingers, a slow composition issued forth. Long blond hair swayed with her movements past a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Like many of the bards around, she wore a colorful and billowing top, rather tight pants and an elegant smile.

The music picked up as other bards fought to lead the tempo, but the elven bard flowed with the sudden increase and remained in control. In all honesty, it should have sounded like a discordant mess, but the skills of the bards kept it in harmony.

It seemed to Autumn that was half the fun.

Autumn tore herself away from the display, following behind Nethlia as she was ascending a stairwell to the side. As she was walking, she noticed another strange figure sitting alone at an almost empty table, despite the packed room.

There, sat all alone, was a strange girl with skin like ash and a head of literal flame that flickered and waved in an unfelt breeze. They’d laden the table in front of them with all sorts of potions and bottles. Some glowed brightly, while others bubbled.

Autumn tore her fascinated gaze away.

The Guild had formed the second floor of the hall like a ring around the main hall. Balconies and railings made up the inner edge while the outer edge housed many private booths.

Cresting the stairwell, Autumn turned her head to the side to look inside one of these booths. There she saw a motley collection of priests and priestesses privately discussing the goings on in their respective religions.

While she wished to learn more about this world and their beliefs, now was not the time.

Following hurriedly behind Nethlia, Autumn got more and more glimpses inside various booths.

In one, she saw a strange scene that looked akin to a painting. A trio of huge, muscular Inferni warriors held tiny cards in their hands as they hunched over a table. Opposite them, a tiny man with wild purple hair sat. Autumn watched as the gnomish-looking man subtly placed an illusion on his cards before placing them down to win whatever game they were playing. The Inferni cursed as the gnome swept up a small pile of gold into what had to be some sort of bag of holding.

As he passed Autumn by, he gave her a wink before heading down to the bar. Between one moment and the next, he disappeared.

Shaking her head, Autumn turned back to follow Nethlia, only to realize there was a weight in her hand that hadn’t been there before. Looking down, she saw the glint of a gold coin in her palm.

Quickly turning back to the crowd, she tried to see the miniature fellow, but to no avail.

Her inattention to where she was walking cost her as she almost collided with an oncoming individual.

“Oi, watch whaur yer gaun’.”

Autumn quickly swiveled around, only to have to look downwards. The scowling individual in front of her was to her, a dwarf. An immaculate beard flowed down to their waist, braided with small engraved bone pendants. Runes in dark blues and blacks tattooed what little of their face Autumn could see before they brushed past her.

“Sorry.” Autumn apologized.

The sheer variety of different people had Autumn’s mind spinning.

Most of the people she had witnessed so far were Inferni, followed closely by those bunnykin that she hadn’t had the chance to learn the name of yet.

As she followed behind Nethlia, Autumn caught a strange scent in the air. A familiar scent. One that drove a spike of fear and anger down her spine. The sweet sickly smell of the Feywild.

It wasn’t as strong as the fae that had chased her, nor was it as strong as the iron-like taste of the goblins that haunted, but she smelt it all the same. Following the smell, Autumn came across one booth. Standing in the entry, she glanced inside and met eyes with a rather nervous young woman.

The sight she saw within took her aback.

Sharp eyes of bright green nestled within a delicate face of painted wood that flexed and moved with the furrowing of her brow. Hair of blooming flowers and autumnal leaves cascaded along her crown. She wore nothing spun or stitched but the fashioning of nature into a draping gown.

Soft wooden arms clutched nervously at her table as Autumn took her in.