Dominic pressed himself flat against the side of a scrapped steam carriage, breathing as quietly as possible.
If the guards caught him here, he was finished.
"Spread out and find that mongrel."
"He thinks that he can scrounge in our scrapyard, does he? Let's disabuse him of that notion, gentlemen." A deep voice demanded, followed by the sound of a half dozen blades being drawn and a pistol being cocked.
Dominic tucked his hair behind his horns to keep it out of his face, then smiled as he saw a forgotten magitech watch in the open glove box of the destroyed vehicle.
Into his pocket it went, and Dominic silently moved to the far side of the wrecked automobile as the guards passed down the aisle.
"You two, head through the copper piles, I will check the damaged vehicles." The deep voiced man directed.
That must be the head guard.
Then, Dominic's stomach growled, and the footfalls stopped, only a metre away from his hiding spot.
"Got you, dragonkin."
Dominic grabbed a handful of loose bolts from the pile behind him and tossed them in the man's face as he vaulted over a damaged tractor and ran for the exit.
Scrounging in scrapyards was far from optimal, but it was profitable, and he had the skills to make most common magitech items functional again.
Assuming that he had the parts.
If he were still a Prince of Wavemates, he would have never stooped this low. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Behind him, a pistol cracked, and the sting of hot lead across his arm gave Dominic all the motivation that he needed to get the hell out of the area as fast as his legs would carry him.
A bullet shattered the window of a car beside him as Dominic ran for the fence. Two long steps put him up and over, putting a wall of solid stone between him and the armed security officer.
Safe. For a second.
"And stay out, you filthy thief." Dominic heard the guard's voice shout as he picked himself up from the dusty roadway.
Perhaps one stealthy trip to the recyclers would have been a profitable day for him if he could have avoided the guards.
But not today.
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 focus crystal, and the items they called junk were as good as new.
Not a life that he was proud of, but a living until he could find something better.
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 by employers and potential customers 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.
All he had to do was make it to the Royal Family's Apprentice induction, which should be announced within the month. Once he got himself hired into the Palace, there would be no more scrounging for parts, no more risking his life for lunch money.
And no more hungry days.
Well, he still 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 forgotten bit of forest where his home used to be was a small thing for the Cygnian Army.
Dominic wandered the streets of Cygnia City, keeping his eyes peeled for guards or police who might be looking for him.
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.
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.
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 public Library.
The sound of many running boots changed his plans, and Dominic turned into the next building he passed, safely out of sight of the police as they passed.
"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.
He was an odd one, but Dalton suspected that the young man was actually a travelling Sorcerer.
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 outside the window hurry about their day.
A tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to the present and the flow of wealthy people around him.
"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.
Not while the police were looking for him.
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, and they were unlikely to judge you if what you needed was somewhere to be out of sight of the city guard.
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, that was hardly his most important concern at the moment.
The guards at the junkyard had most likely given his description to the police, and standing out here in the open was a bad idea.
The old smith looked him over from head to toe. "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 the scent of 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 Prince who had been living in 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.