By the time Evan reached the Authority Hall, he had already spent most of the walk quietly testing the interface functions one by one. The basic lattice band lacked the polished responsiveness of higher-tier models he had seen in the shop, though it handled public functions reliably enough once he adjusted to the gesture controls.
The audio relay proved stranger.
He clipped the thin device around his ear after entering his room, watching as the lattice interface immediately acknowledged the connection through a faint pulse of light.
AUDIO RELAY SYNCHRONIZED
LONG-RANGE COMMUNICATION AVAILABLE
LIMITED TO CIVIC NETWORK COMPATIBILITY
He tested a few settings afterward out of curiosity. The relay translated voice into directed lattice transmission rather than traditional radio signals, routing communication through local civic infrastructure instead. Slower than fully synchronized interfaces according to the shopkeeper, though far cheaper and significantly less mana-intensive.
Some features reminded him strongly of phones from Earth.
Others did not.
The projection system alone changed interaction completely. Messages unfolded in floating translucent layers above his wrist instead of remaining locked behind a physical screen. Public notices updated dynamically based on district location. Arena schedules shifted automatically whenever brackets changed. Even the map function subtly adjusted pathways depending on current crowd density estimates across Dornhaven.
And unlike Earth devices, the lattice occasionally displayed faint ambient readings tied directly to local mana activity.
Nothing advanced on the cheap civilian model. Just environmental fluctuations and civic network stability levels. Even so, the idea still fascinated him slightly. Technology here had evolved alongside mana instead of replacing it.
Eventually, after another few minutes experimenting with the controls, Evan deactivated the projection and set the relay aside near the table. The room felt quieter afterward without the faint blue glow hovering nearby. He exhaled slowly, rolled tension from his shoulders once, then moved toward the washroom before dinner arrived.
Dinner arrived shortly afterward, carried in on a broader tray than usual. Evan pulled the meal closer, the faint scent of spices and roasted grain already filling the room before he even lifted the cover fully.
Tonight's main dish was labeled "Stonefire Reef Cuts." Thin slices of pale blue-white meat rested over dark roasted root strips glazed in something sweet and sharp at the same time. Beside it sat a bowl of soft grain mixed with tiny crimson vegetables and cracked black seeds, steam rising steadily from the surface. Another small plaque identified the side dish as "Ashpepper Bloom Pods."
Evan started with the reef cuts first.
The texture surprised him immediately. Firmer than fish, though lighter than most meat he had eaten here so far. The glaze carried layered flavor beneath the sweetness, smoky at first before shifting into something faintly citrus-like near the end. The roasted roots beneath it absorbed part of the sauce, balancing the sharper taste with heavier warmth.
He moved to the bloom pods next after a few bites.
That turned out to be a mistake.
Heat exploded across his tongue almost instantly, sharp enough that he physically stopped moving for half a second before grabbing the drink beside the tray. The cooling infusion helped eventually, though not immediately enough to stop the quiet coughing fit that followed.
Evan stared at the remaining bloom pods afterward with deep suspicion while his eyes watered slightly. Somewhere beneath the pain, the flavor itself had actually been good. That somehow made the experience worse.
Evan approached the rest of the meal more carefully after that.
The grain mixture turned out far safer, though no less interesting. The crimson vegetables carried a faint sweetness beneath the seasoning while the black seeds added a slight crunch and earthy bitterness that balanced the heavier flavors from the reef cuts. Combined with the cooling drink, it gradually erased the lingering fire left behind by the bloom pods.
Mostly.
He still eyed the remaining two suspiciously before eventually deciding against risking another one tonight.
Instead, he focused on the quieter rhythm of the meal while his thoughts drifted back toward the lattice interface resting near the table. Buying it had been the right decision. The value extended beyond simple communication. Understanding how information moved through the city, how people accessed it, shared it, and relied upon it, would become increasingly important over time. Arena schedules, training hall updates, banking access, public postings, and even everyday cultural habits all flowed through local lattice systems to one degree or another.
Another thing to learn.
Another thing to adapt to.
Strangely enough, the thought no longer felt overwhelming the way it once might have. The list of unfamiliar systems around him kept growing, though so did his ability to navigate them gradually. Training. Work. Technology. Social dynamics. Mana theory. Each piece connected slowly into something coherent instead of remaining isolated fragments of an alien world.
After finishing dinner, Evan washed his hands, rinsed his mouth, and returned to the study table. Once seated, he activated the lattice projection again and opened the banking section first.
The verification had completed while he ate.
A small numerical balance appeared above the translucent display alongside transaction records from the past two weeks. Stall wages. Food expenses. Small purchases scattered across different districts. Beneath those entries sat the fifty gold he had originally deposited from the Authority Hall allocation, separate enough that it still felt more like a reserve than part of his normal spending. Evan studied the balance quietly for a moment before opening a blank note entry beside it and beginning to organize tomorrow's expected costs and schedules.
The banking interface turned out to be far more detailed than he had expected from the cheapest lattice model. Transaction history unfolded in clean chronological order, each entry tagged with a location, category, and date. He spent several minutes scrolling through the records, occasionally comparing them against the notebook he had been maintaining manually since arriving in Dornhaven. The numbers matched closely enough to satisfy him.
His original Authority Hall allocation had been fifty-three gold. Following the attendant's recommendation, he had deposited fifty immediately and kept roughly three gold available for everyday use while he learned how the city functioned. During those first chaotic days, that money had covered food, small necessities, and purchases from stalls that accepted direct coin rather than bank-linked payments. He had also preferred using physical currency at times while becoming familiar with local systems.
Since then, the pattern had gradually shifted. Most of the fifty-gold reserve remained untouched, while daily expenses increasingly came from the wages earned at Rovan and Bovan's stall. Part of that income had already gone toward practical purchases. Food. The lattice band. The relay attachment. A handful of smaller costs spread across the city. Even after those expenses, he still had enough on hand to comfortably cover another week or so of ordinary spending before his next pay cycle arrived.
The stall paid weekly, and that fact changed the way he approached planning more than he had expected.
A steady income altered the entire calculation. Purchases no longer existed as simple deductions from a shrinking pool of savings. They could be weighed against future earnings, ongoing expenses, and longer-term priorities. The difference was subtle, though it made the future feel considerably easier to organize than it had during those first uncertain days in Dornhaven.
Evan added a few notes beneath the financial section afterward.
Arena entry fees. Equipment upgrades at some point in the future. Books he found himself returning to often enough that buying copies would eventually make sense. Additional training expenses once his current routine stopped providing the same returns. None of it felt urgent, but that was part of the point. Seeing those possibilities written down transformed them from vague intentions into something he could actually work toward. The future became much easier to navigate once it consisted of identifiable goals instead of distant wishes.
When he finally closed the banking display, his thoughts drifted naturally toward tomorrow instead. The day would look much like the ones before it. Morning training at the hall. A few hours in the library afterward. Work at the stall through the afternoon and evening conditioning once his shift ended. The routine had repeated often enough that he could already picture the flow of it without needing to check anything.
Strangely, that no longer bothered him. A few weeks ago, the repetition might have felt restrictive. Now it felt productive. Each day carried small improvements that were difficult to notice in the moment but obvious when viewed across weeks instead of hours. More familiarity with the city. Better conditioning. Stronger fundamentals. A growing understanding of how this world actually functioned. None of it was dramatic, yet all of it was moving him forward. For now, that was more than enough.
Evan spent a few more minutes updating the notebook afterward, comparing the handwritten entries against the information now available through the lattice interface. The physical notebook remained useful despite the new device. Faster for observations. Easier for training notes. Less distracting than opening multiple menus every time he wanted to record something.
The latest page already contained far more additions than it had a week ago. Each section tracked individual gains day by day, with short notes beside them recording what had contributed most to the improvement. Older observations remained carried forward whenever they continued proving useful, gradually building into a longer record rather than being replaced outright.
Constitution gains.
Agility improvements.
Strength increases.
Mind growth through reading and meditation.
Beneath those sat a second section filled with shorter observations gathered from training, work, and simple trial and error.
Breathing recovery improving.
Swimming efficiency increasing.
Dain exploits delayed recovery repeatedly.
Lyra's balance corrections useful.
Better foot placement needed during directional transitions.
A few of the notes were only a line long. Others had started accumulating small follow-up comments in the margins. None of them seemed particularly significant on their own, yet together they painted a much clearer picture of where he stood than memory alone ever could.
Evan read through the page once more before closing the notebook.
The list had grown steadily over the past two weeks. Every entry represented something noticed, tested, corrected, or understood a little better than before. Looking at it now, he could see evidence of progress in places that would have been easy to overlook during the day-to-day routine. A short time ago, there would have been very little to record beyond confusion, questions, and a handful of uncertain goals. Now the pages carried structure, direction, and enough observations to keep him busy for quite a while longer.
He set both the notebook and lattice interface aside afterward, then spent several minutes stretching before bed. The routine had become familiar by now. Legs first. Lower back. Shoulders. Breathing exercises afterward. The soreness remained, though it never lingered as stubbornly as it once had. Constitution gains and regular recovery work were slowly making themselves known.
By the time he finally lay down, the town outside had grown quieter. His thoughts drifted briefly toward tomorrow's training session and the routine that would begin again a few hours from now. He would arrive early as usual. Around 5:15. Earlier than the rest of the group and well before the session officially began.
The decision felt straightforward.
The others carried years of advantages he simply did not possess yet. Years of growth. Years of mana exposure. Years spent training, learning, failing, correcting mistakes, and building foundations within a world that had shaped them since childhood. Those years existed whether he liked them or not. They formed part of the reality he had entered the moment he arrived on Varethis.
Evan could not compress that experience into a few weeks, and he had no interest in pretending otherwise. What he could do was continue adding to his own side of the equation, one day at a time. Another training session. Another book finished. Another correction written into the notebook. Another small improvement that seemed insignificant by itself and became meaningful only when accumulated over time.
Strangely, the realization carried a sense of comfort rather than frustration. The path ahead remained long, though it no longer felt uncertain. He knew what tomorrow looked like. He knew what the next week looked like. In many ways, he even knew what the next few months would probably resemble.
Training. Work. Study. Observation. Progress.
Slow, steady, and earned.
With that lingering in the back of his mind, his eyes gradually closed. The lattice band rested quietly on the table nearby. Beside it sat the notebook, its pages filled with observations, corrections, goals, and small pieces of progress gathered across the past two weeks.
Sleep came easily after that.
Tomorrow would begin early, and for perhaps the first time since arriving in Dornhaven, the thought brought a quiet sense of anticipation rather than uncertainty.