Breaking away from the city’s marketplace, he finally found a registered office by a strangely deserted street.

“Damn the earthly souls!” the doorbell chimed when he entered. He ignored it, and went directly to the busy scribe painting on a table in the far corner.
“Timid afternoon,” he spoke respectfully. “I am here to renew some of my Papers.”
“Your afternoon has been far from timid, young one,” the old man replied, not looking up from his work. “Tell him to come in.”
“Who?”
“Your shadow, child. He is still playing outside. Tell him to come in.”
He shooed his shadow in. His groaned, but he gave his a good kick.
“You must not admonish such an adventureous temperament, child,” the scribe rebuked him. “It might come be of some use one day.”
“I’m here to renew some of my Papers,” he repeated. The man was irritating him.“You had the seal.”
“Yes, yes. The seal,” the old man spoke dismissingly. After a few moments of scribbling, he finally raised his head from the papers. But he did not look up. He had no eyes.