Work was slow.
	I had few stories and works to write down at this point. Stories from the Great War, events right after the Cracking, and various events in between. I had seen most of the interesting ones now. The most important, in my mind, was the Sol Eater story. Various accounts, oral, written, photos, video, all of it transcribed into a written account of the heroes that prevented the end of the world before I was born. There had been other people who had taken the task of assembling all this information, but I had also gotten accounts from the living heroes and turned it all into a narrative. 
	But now, beyond the small transcribing jobs, I was struggling to keep the lights on and my rent paid. 
	
	It was a day like any other when I met her. A knock upon the door roused me from my current work on turning an orally recorded recipe book to text– the second revision. I put the tape aside, pulled the apartment door open, and now stood face to face with a grinning woman in black robes, “The illustrious Mister Gawain, I presume?” She asked.
	I tilted my head, “Uh, yes? Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”
	The woman pulled the black, conical, wide-brimmed wizarding hat from her head of messy black hair and bowed for me in greeting, “Maxine, you may call me. May I come in? I have something to discuss with you.”
	The way her emerald eyes stared at me, I felt compelled to oblige. I could tell she was a witch, despite never seeing one in my life. I nodded and pulled the door open. The woman’s cat ears twitched as she glanced around my studio apartment, “After how well your Ballad of Sol Eater sold, I am surprised you live somewhere like this.”
	“Home ownership is a pain,” I joked, “Now, what did you have to discuss with me?”
	“I know what you are working on recently. You are meant for greater things,” She lounged upon my couch, laying with her head against the arm rest and her legs crossed over one another, “Recipes, radio interviews, speeches… While I wish I had another historical event for you to work on, I do have something I would like you to do for me.”
	I blinked slowly at her, “And that is?” She was playing with me, like a cat with a mouse. Her being a beast woman, it made too much sense.
	She sat up, teasingly baring her sharp fingernails at me, “A bestiary. A folio of monsters and creatures! I wish to commission you to make one!”
	“Me– You want ME to do that!?” I was taken aback, “Miss Maxine–”
	“Lady Maxine.”
	I suppressed a sigh, “Lady Maxine, you seem to know, but in case it slipped your mind you do realize you are the first wizard to grace my presence? The third beastman to walk before me? I don’t have the experience for this! I’ve barely even seen the other races of men!”
	“Exactly!” She pointed at me before leaning back into the plush couch, “A sheltered boy on an adventure to see the world! See the creatures and people that walk it, and write about them! Imagine the perspectives you would provide, untainted by casual exposure to such things!”
	“I don’t know…” I turned from her and tapped my fingers on the counter of my kitchen.
	I perked up as she told me what she was willing to pay. My eyes were wide as I turned back and stared with wide eyes, “And you can sell it yourself. And I can pay for your rent until you return.”
	“I find it hard to believe all of that. Is this just a… weird passion project?”
	“It's more important than that, but we can speak of details later,” she grinned.
I was at a loss, “Who are you…?”
“Surely you know of the Hamiltons, Reece.”
	I nodded, “You’re that Maxine? I should have realized it sooner. You don’t look much like your mother, I suppose. N-no offense,” I hadn’t even realized she was two decades older than me. Time had been kind to her.
	“None taken, dear. But my family is used to funding… useful projects. I know it will take a bit of monetary convincing, but I think it will be worth it for the end project. What do you say?” She held out a hand and gave me an impish, toothy grin.
	I sighed. I could buy a goddamn mansion with that money. Anything I wanted. Land, vehicles, titles… I was nervous, “I’m not made for adventures,” I found myself insisting.
	“None who adventure say they are. You will come into your own, just like those before you,” Maxine assured me, “You know much about heroes of this world, my boy. You should know this.”
	I relented. Maybe it was her pretty face, or the money, but I reached out and took her hand, shaking it firmly, “Fine.”
	“Excellent!” She grinned and procured a shoulder back from seemingly out a thin air, “Something to get you going. You will find journals, a camera, audio devices, money, and a proposed route. Firstly, you should go north. There is a stop in Oregon, I believe you should make. Then go up to a small village in Washington.”
	“Back to the Pacific Northwest, then,” I sighed and rubbed my forehead. The bag was a dark brown leather with a green catseye embroidered on the flap. I unlatched it and found it to be seemingly infinitely bottomless, but the items I thought of seemed to appear in my hand for me to look at. 
	“A bottomless bag,” She explained, “It will carry almost everything you need, dear. Clothes, notes, papers, everything.”
	“Gotcha,” I nodded. It was heavy, but beat carrying suitcases, “Alright. When should I go?”
	“Tonight! Here is your ticket!” She cackled as she handed over a train ticket for a nearby line, “I’ll be in touch! Good luck!” And with the wave of a staff, the cat woman vanished in a puff of lime green smoke.
	I was alone again. Back to Oregon it was. I began packing immediately and prepared my current work to be shipped along with a note that I would be out for an indeterminate amount of time. What exactly I had gotten myself into hadn't quite hit me yet, as I'm sure you'd appreciate I was still high in spirits at the prospect of earning more money than I could spend in my natural life.