The shopkeeper trembled with fear, caught between complying with the gorens’ demands or making a desperate escape. His eyes darted to one of the gorens, who gripped a shortbow in its yellowed, brittle-skinned hands, and his resolve crumbled.

‘The ring,’ the leader ordered, motioning to his companion. ‘Take it from him.’

With a smug grin, the goren leaned across the stall, his fingers snatching the ring adorned with its striking black gem. ‘This’ll look nice on my finger,’ he sneered as he slid it onto his pinkie.

‘Pay him the lunaris we agreed on,’ the leader added, though his tone carried the weight of coercion rather than genuine fairness.

Reluctantly, the goren retrieved his pouch, tossing it onto the counter with disdain before admiring his new prize. He held his hand aloft, his gaze fixed intently on the gem.

‘Does it look good?’ he asked, turning to his companions with a smug grin.

Their faces twisted in playful disgust as they recoiled at the sight of his grimy, scarred hand.

‘Maybe I'll get one like it for the wench back home –’

His words were cut short as a sudden, searing pain tore through the top of his hand, followed by the warm splatter of blood spraying across the back of his head. Shocked, he looked back to see his fingers – brittle and gnarled – severed cleanly from his hand. Blood gushed in crimson torrents from the stumps.

With a guttural cry of agony, he dropped to his knees, clutching the mutilated hand. His severed fingers lay a few paces away, lifeless on the stone floor, with the prized ring still snugly encircling one of them.

‘I’ll be taking what’s mine,’ a sharp voice interrupted, forcing the gorens into defensive postures. ‘Filthy gorens have no business wearing my ring.’

Emerging from the shadows of the stalls were Riniock, calm and composed with his hands clasped behind his back, and Linry, whose palm flickered ominously with summoned flames.

‘Tch,’ the goren leader sneered, tightening his grip on his mace. ‘Humans. Always meddling.’

‘That would be my line, filth of Aceria,’ Riniock retorted, fully aware of how insults against their goddess would rankle. ‘From where I stand, you’re the ones meddling with something that belongs to me.’

‘You dare insult –’ the leader began, his fury rising, but Riniock silenced him with a raised finger.

‘I’d suggest you assess the situation more carefully. We’re not street vendors,’ he said, his gaze flicking pointedly to the mutilated corpse of the farferal lying nearby.

The leader paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied them. ‘Maegi filth…’

‘Heh. Sharp observation,’ Riniock replied, his mocking tone unwavering. ‘Your kind usually charges in the moment someone hurls an insult at your goddess. But it seems you’re hesitating. Wise, considering what just happened to your friend’s fingers.’

The gorens ground their teeth in frustration. Unlike the powerless farferal, maegis posed an unpredictable threat. The severed fingers lying nearby were a testament to their mysterious abilities.

‘What do you want, human?’ one of the gorens growled, his bloodlust evident in his glare.

Riniock sighed, feigning exasperation. ‘Still as dim-witted as I imagined. Leave. Consider this one’s fate a warning for touching what’s mine.’

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‘Kill him, brothers!’ the injured goren screamed, his voice trembling with pain, his teeth grinding in fury.

‘Gladly,’ snarled one of his kin, stepping forward with his blade drawn. ‘I’ll take your hand, just as you took his!’

The goren advanced, but before he could close the distance, the leader’s commanding voice rang out. ‘Stop.’ His glare locked onto Riniock, cold and unyielding. ‘Fall back.’

Confusion swept through the group. The others turned to him, their faces etched with disbelief.

‘What do you mean, Lodgok?’ they demanded. ‘There’s two of them and five of us!’

‘Krashak,’ the leader snapped, his tone like steel, ‘I said fall back. If you’re so eager to die, then go ahead. Fight them alone.’

‘But he attacked one of us! He insulted Lady Aceria! Are we just going to let him –’

Before Krashak could finish, the leader struck him hard across the head with his mace. The blow sent him crashing to the ground, dazed but not severely injured.

‘If you wish to avenge them, do it on your own time,’ the leader growled. ‘Lady Aceria favours the living, not the reckless dead.’

Krashak staggered to his feet, his pride bruised. With a resentful glare, he followed Lodgok’s retreat, though inwardly his fury boiled.

The gorens gathered their wounded and began to leave.

As they distanced themselves from the scene, one of them spoke up, his voice simmering with frustration. ‘You better have a good reason for this shameful retreat.’

Lodgok cursed under his breath, his patience thinning. ‘Are you such fools that you can’t see the danger? Look again.’

‘They’re outnumbered. It doesn’t matter,’ another argued.

‘Perhaps,’ the leader replied, his voice measured. ‘But they’re maegi. From this distance, they’d tear us apart before we could close the gap. Do you want to end up like Korro?’

‘Otolog has a bow,’ someone muttered defiantly.

‘That’s enough,’ the leader barked, silencing further objections. ‘When I said fall back, I meant it – for now.’

Krashak’s eyes narrowed. ‘You mean we’ll –’

‘We’ll gut them,’ Lodgok interrupted, his tone cold and certain. ‘When the time is right.’

A wicked grin spread across Krashak’s face, mirrored by the others. Their retreat became an illusion, a veiled promise of vengeance as they disappeared from the area, their sinister laughter echoing faintly behind them.

Back at the farferal’s workshop, Riniock knelt and retrieved his ring, carefully prying it from the blood-soaked finger lying on the ground. He held it up, inspecting the black gem now tarnished by the scene around it.

‘I’ll need to sterilise this before wearing it again,’ he muttered, slipping it into a pocket.

Linry extinguished the flame still flickering in her palm and approached Riniock, who had turned his attention to the shopkeeper.

‘Apologies for the trouble,’ Riniock said, his voice uncharacteristically honeyed and smooth.

‘Master Ikurns, your intervention came at the perfect moment. I am truly grateful,’ the farferal shopkeeper replied, bowing in a show of gratitude.

‘Nonsense,’ Riniock replied with a dismissive wave, his tone dripping with faux modesty. ‘We law-abiding citizens must stick together.’

Linry smirked, stifling a chuckle behind her hand.

The shopkeeper’s gaze shifted to the lifeless body of his kinsman. A small group of farferal had gathered around Laurion, their tears and muffled sobs breaking the air.

‘Though we do not share blood, farferal always help one another,’ the shopkeeper said, his voice heavy with sorrow. ‘Alas, Laurion paid the ultimate price for his courage.’

‘His bravery is commendable,’ Riniock said, his tone polite but distant, his usual indifference veiled behind practiced civility.

‘I thank you,’ the shopkeeper continued. ‘Without your intervention, more of us might have joined Laurion.’

Riniock waved his hand again, brushing off the gratitude.

‘I’m relieved they didn’t manage to take your ring before you stepped in,’ the shopkeeper added.

‘Ah, yes – the ring,’ Riniock said, shifting the topic as he reached for his coin purse. ‘How much do I owe you for the adjustment?’

The shopkeeper raised his hands emphatically. ‘Nothing! What kind of person would I be to accept payment after you’ve done us a lifesaving service?’

‘That might be true,’ Riniock replied, his tone even, ‘but business and gratitude are two different matters.’

‘I insist,’ the farferal said, gripping Riniock’s hand to prevent him from retrieving his purse.

For a moment, Riniock’s composed smile wavered, a flicker of irritation breaking through before he quickly reined it in. His expression stayed outwardly calm, but a faint twitch in his eye betrayed his restraint. ‘Then I won’t press the matter further,’ he said smoothly, though his tone carried a subtle edge.

Sensing his struggle, Linry stepped in with a light-hearted tone. ‘Well, since everything is settled, we’ll be on our way.’

The shopkeeper released Riniock’s hand, bowing slightly. ‘Safe travels, masters.’

Before they could depart, a commanding voice interrupted. ‘No one’s going anywhere,’ it declared. ‘Bazaar law enforcement. All of you are to remain here for investigation.’