Quinn dumped the contents of his pockets onto the table. An old theater ticket, three ten lira bills, half a lozenge, and a contraceptive. Scratch that. An expired contraceptive. The blasted charm's color ring had turned gray. It was no king's ransom, that was for sure, and Terry's crew expressed their appreciation accordingly.

"Gah!" He doubled over from the blow like a shrimp, face going purple. "Please! Please, don't hurt me! I'll have it tomorrow!"

The two nameless thugs hauled Quinn up by his arms and held him fast. Terry said nothing, simply stood in place as if the scene playing out was too ordinary to deserve his energy.

"Terry, please! I'll bring you the money tomorrow, I swear!" Quinn pleaded. He wanted to cry. They hadn't even worked him over, and he was already so scared he'd say anything. "I'll throw in something extra. It'll be yours. You don't have to tell the boss!"

That got Terry's attention. He nodded to his men, and they let Quinn go. The frightened orcling crawled forth on his hands and knees, but before he could utter his thanks, Terry spoke.

"You think you can bribe me?"

Quinn's blood chilled.

"N-No, Terry! No."

Terry grabbed Quinn's chin. His fingers squeezed hard enough to bruise. Then he leaned in so close that Quinn could feel the hot puff of air against his skin.

"You bring me what you owe. Not a lira more. Got it?"

"Yesh," Quinn mumbled, keeping his answer short. He didn't want to mess up again.

"Good." Terry surrendered Quinn's jaw with a light pat on the cheek.

The extortionist left, taking his underlings with him.

Quinn exhaled in relief. For a moment, he had thought himself a goner. Luckily, it seemed Eliora hadn't turned her back on him yet. He had a few more hours to finagle himself out of his predicament. But where in hell's blazes could he get his hands on two thousand lira in less than a day? Even with all his savings scraped together, he had a mere three hundred and fifty-two lira, and his friends' contributions bumped that number closer to four hundred.

Rubbing his chin, the orc let out a depressed sigh. If only there was someone he could turn to for advice. The fear and worry bottled up inside kept him trapped on the precipice of hope and despair, making it impossible for him to think straight. He needed an outsider's perspective.

He collected his belongings and headed for Dunbar Street out of habit. That was where Quinn usually went when he needed to solve a problem, albeit nothing quite so serious. It was a rich shopping district, filled with fancy restaurants, boutiques, and every sort of store imaginable. Of course, he couldn't buy anything, but looking through windows was free of charge.

It was a Saturday, and the sidewalks were crowded with couples and families out for a good time. A young toddler dashed across the sidewalk, chasing after an enchanted kitten on wheels. The toy knocked into Quinn's foot and toppled over.

"Whoops. Here you are," Quinn said, holding the toy out for its owner.

The little girl looked at him. He could see himself reflected in her eyes, a scrawny, green monster with tusks jutting from his mouth that made his smile resemble a snarl on the best of days. She whimpered.

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"Adelaine! Come here," called a nearby woman. She was also human, dressed in respectable work clothes, and her eyes were the same sky blue as the little girl's.

The girl hesitated. She looked at the toy, then back at her mother.

"Eliora's sake, just leave it," the mother snapped.

The girl ran to her family. Her mother grabbed her by the hand, and they left, leaving Quinn standing there with her toy like an idiot, and those who'd noticed in the crowd laughing.

Quinn recovered quickly. Reactions that extreme were rare but not unheard of, and he had already experienced his fair share of them. He gingerly placed the kitten on the nearest ledge where it could stand vigil until its owner came back for it. Assuming she ever did. He hoped so. It'd be a shame for her to lose a toy for no reason.

The growling of Quinn's stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since that morning. He winced. Normally, he wasn't so hard up that he'd have to skip meals, but under his current circumstances, every little bit counted. As he resumed walking, he heard a violin playing somewhere off in the distance. Faint as it was, the sound called him irresistibly, the music exuding an indescribable charm. Quinn didn't know much about music, but even his untrained ears could tell the performer had skill.

He walked in the direction he thought the sound was coming from, and before he knew it, he was in front of a small brick store emblazoned with the gold letters 'SERENITY.' There were no windows for him to peer through, no indications of the store's specialty product. A flip sign hanging from the door was the only way that he could even tell it was open for business.

Quinn latched onto the handle and paused. What had gotten into him? He couldn't go in. He didn't know what they were selling, and it didn't matter. He didn't have the money regardless. He let go of the handle. Magically, the door opened on its own. Well, not quite on its own. An elder gentleman in a suit held it open. Unfazed by Quinn's complexion, he inclined his head.

"Welcome, Sir. Please do come in."

Swallowing, Quinn followed the man inside.

Six tables bearing glass vials in every color of the rainbow had been arranged on display. Hand-written tags bearing a name and a description, but no price, marked each one. The walls to the left and the right had shelves for additional potions, with cutouts here and there for clocks, none of which were the same model or size, and all of which seemed to be telling the wrong time. An empty service desk squatted at the back of the room, and behind it stretched a partition screen painted with an exquisite mural, soldiers on the earth fighting against a horde of grotesque beasts Quinn couldn’t recognize, and winged figures clashing in the heavens above.

The mural was so realistic that Quinn had to get closer for a better look. He was beyond caring about his lack of money by this point. He was already in the store, so what was the harm in looking around for a while before coming up with an excuse to leave? He examined a certain section of the mural. It was so much darker there, as if something was blocking the light from behind.

The shadow moved.

Quinn jolted in surprise. The partition split to reveal a man sitting in a wheelchair. A violin rested in his lap, and he had a warm smile that sent a euphoric tingle running along Quinn's spine, right before the horror set in. The orc recognized a high elf when he saw one. He jerked his gaze to the floor and knelt.

"Apologies, Highest! I didn't know this was your store."

What rotten luck! To think he had escaped one perilous situation that day only to fall into another. Eliora must enjoy playing tricks at his expense. Quinn would never have come into this store if he'd known a high elf owned it, not for two thousand lira. Worse, he hadn't even really needed to come in. He'd ignored his better reason to follow a whim, and look where that had got him!

The high elf laughed, a marvelous thing to hear, like birdsong in the spring. "You're mistaken, dear. See? Have a look."

Quinn did as instructed and saw the elf had pulled back his hair to reveal perfectly round ears. Quinn didn't get it. Why was a high elf glamouring his ears to appear human?

"My ears are round!" the elf stated.

"Uhm. Okay?"

"That means I'm not an elf. Yes?"

The orc was speechless. He'd never heard a ludicrous statement delivered more seriously. It was so funny that he wanted to laugh, but he squelched the urge before it got him into trouble. Or at least more trouble. There was no telling what bizarre game this particular elf was playing.

"Got it." He nodded. "Not an elf."

"Wonderful!" The elf clapped. "Now, with that out of the way, how may I be of service, Mister...?"

"Quinn. Quinnius Parcel."

"Mr. Parcel. What a fine name."

Ah, nuts. Trouble had found him anyway. The elf wasn't likely to react positively once Quinn confessed his reason for stopping by. He moistened his lips. "Truth is, Sir, I hardly know what you're selling. I came in 'cause I heard the music play, that's all. I can't afford a thing."