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scholars and those who work at a trade, soldiers who are of higher rank. But, here, you have the bankers and the people who run everything.” Ganry educated the young Artas in the way of life in Mirnee.
    “Are the people at the bottom allowed to move up a level if they are successful?” Artas was wondering if the poorer people were stuck there forever.
    “Absolutely, that is what the whole system is about, bettering yourself. All in all, they are an ambitious people, always looking for a deal that will benefit them. So watch out for their craftiness,” Ganry warned. “They don’t mean to be that way, they are just raised to always seek an opportunity that will better them.”
    “And you, Ganry de Rosenthorn, what is your story?” Artas tried to tease it out of him. “Did you partake in making yourself rich?”
    “I was born to wealth, a nobleman much the same as yourself. My father disowned me when I was exiled, though there is more to the story than that. I would prefer to save it for another day, young Artas.”
    “I understand, and I don’t mean to pry.” Artas hesitated a moment, but then plowed on. “About your exile, may I ask what you did, Ganry, to deserve such a harsh ruling?”
    “Let’s just say I had a disagreement with the General,” Ganry said, his tone indicating he did not wish to discuss it further.
    “But are you still in exile?”
    “Not anymore. Anyway, we are here,” he said, pointing to a large set of ornate wooden gates.
    “Look at the craftsmanship,” Artas said in amazement as he gazed up at a set of intricately carved wooden gates.
    “Pull on that, would you?” Ganry pointed to a brass chain. On the end was a brass knob shaped as a dragon’s head with an open mouth. “It will inform the servants there is someone at the door.”
    Artas seemed reluctant to pull on the mouth of the dragon. “Don’t worry,” Ganry assured him, “it is their door protector, stops evil from passing through. It won’t hurt you unless it considers you evil,” he smiled. Artas pulled on the chain, though somewhat cautiously.
    After a short wait, a small door in one of the gates opened up and a crooked old man peeked out.
    Ganry grinned widely and held out his arms. “Berne, you are still alive?” he joked with the old man. “I gather that means that Ludas is still master of the house?”
    “Master Ganry, so good to see that you are also still alive.” The old man looked genuinely happy to see him. “We had heard many tales of your passing. Come, come, Master will be over the moon when he sees you. Come,” he said, stepping aside so they could enter the house.
    As they stepped through the gate they entered a glass tunnel leading to the house proper. They continued to follow the old man, who moved fairly swiftly considering his age. He led them to a room where he asked them to wait, before leaving to go in search of the master of the house. Though the building was opulent, in its design of triangular shaped roofing and columns everywhere, the inside was furnished simply and very minimalistic. The two men sat on large cushions placed on the floor for such purposes.
    They didn't have long to wait before a man, bearing a strong resemblance to Ganry, came through the door.
    “I don’t believe it, is it really you, Ganry, my boy? You’re home, you have come back to us after all these years. This is a joyous day in the Rosenthorn household.”
    “Uncle Ludas, it is good to see you too,” Ganry responded. “It has been far too long.”

8
    Artas felt a little uncomfortable at such a private reunion. Clearly this man was very fond of Ganry and it certainly seemed to Artas, it was an affection that was returned. Ganry, it seemed, was a bit of a dark horse. He never spoke of his family here, even though it was obvious he loved them.
    Ganry was surprised at how emotional the return home would be, especially at meeting his uncle after all these years. Ludas had always been a supporter of Ganry,