The auction house buzzed with chaotic energy as bids flew in rapid succession, guests vying fiercely for the item on display. It was a psychorite eye, a rare and vital component in the creation of artificially intelligent constructs like golems. The price skyrocketed quickly, spiralling into exorbitant territory as wealthy bidders sought to claim the coveted object.
Riniock, however, remained unfazed by the frenzy. His attention wasn’t on the psychorite eye – it was fixed on something else entirely.
‘This is…’ he murmured, his words trailing off as his gaze locked onto an item hanging from the seller’s belt.
‘What is it, Riniock?’ Linry asked, noticing his focus. She leaned forward, trying to discern what had caught his eye. ‘Are you interested in the eye?’
‘No,’ he replied, his tone firm. ‘That man’s knife.’
Her eyes followed his, landing on the unassuming dagger tucked into the seller’s scabbard. ‘It just looks like an ordinary dagger to me.’
But Riniock’s sharp perception told him otherwise. From the dagger’s scabbard, he could see faint threads of magick leaking through the tiny slits. The aura was subtle yet unmistakable – a power that Linry, despite her keen curiosity, couldn’t detect.
‘It’s far from ordinary,’ Riniock said, his resolve firm as he stood. ‘Stay here. I’ll be back shortly, but feel free to buy anything that catches your eye.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, twisting in her seat to watch him weave out of their section of the auction house.
‘Down,’ he replied without slowing. ‘I won’t be long.’
As the man announced the final bid on the palm sized item – a staggering 400 solaris – Riniock slipped out of the seating area and positioned himself near the exit, waiting for an opportunity to speak with the seller. When the man emerged from the central stage, Riniock approached him with a calm demeanour.
‘Excuse me,’ Riniock called, his voice polite but firm.
The man stopped, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face him. ‘Who are you?’
‘My apologies,’ Riniock began, inclining his head slightly. ‘I didn’t mean to alarm you, but I couldn’t help but notice the dagger hanging from your belt.’
The man’s gaze shifted to his weapon, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt. His expression remained composed, but his subtle movements betrayed a guarded caution.
‘What do you want with it?’ he asked warily.
‘I’d like to buy it from you,’ Riniock replied, his tone earnest. Though he couldn’t fully articulate why, he felt an unshakable pull towards the dagger, as though it held a significance he wasn’t yet aware of.
The seller shook his head with finality. ‘It’s not for sale. Good day.’
With that, he turned and began to stride away, leaving Riniock standing in the shadowy corridor, his interest in the dagger only deepening.
However, Riniock wasn’t ready to give up.
‘Please, reconsider,’ he urged, hurrying after the man. ‘I’ll pay whatever you ask – name your price!’
‘Let it go, boy,’ the man growled, his voice sharp with menace as he stopped and turned.
‘I won’t haggle,’ Riniock pressed on. ‘I’ll agree to –’
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The man moved without warning, unsheathing the dagger in a swift, practiced motion and slashing towards Riniock.
Riniock’s instincts kicked in, and with a quick gesture, he summoned a protective ward. The blade struck the barrier with a crackle of energy, deflecting harmlessly. Without hesitation, Riniock retaliated, sending a powerful gust of wind crashing into the man.
The force of the blast sent the attacker sprawling backward, his body colliding with a metal support pole. The impact reverberated through the tent as the man slumped to the ground, winded and unable to rise.
He had rendered him rippled.
The dagger slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. To Riniock’s eyes, its faint strands of magick shimmered like threads of light.
‘I knew it,’ Riniock murmured with excitement, stooping to pick up the weapon.
The man groaned weakly, his arm trembling as he reached towards Riniock. He was clearly no match for a maegi and now lay defenceless, reduced to futile grunts.
Panic bubbled in Riniock’s chest as he realised the gravity of his actions. Injuring someone in this place – an area with strict rules of conduct – was a dangerous misstep. He glanced around hurriedly, scanning the corridor for witnesses.
‘Good, no one saw…’ he muttered, exhaling in relief.
His gaze returned to the injured man. The pathetic mundane figure sprawled on the ground posed no threat, yet leaving him here felt risky. Riniock’s mind raced through options, weighing outcomes.
Then, his eyes landed on a nearby sign. A slow, mischievous smile crept across his face as he read the single word painted boldly across it: “Latrines.”
‘Well,’ Riniock said, gripping the dagger tightly. ‘That solves one problem.’
Without hesitation, Riniock seized the man by the hair, dragging him towards the latrines. The man squirmed and groaned, but his muffled protests faded into silence as the door closed behind them.
The room reeked, its stalls dimly lit and lined up like grim sentinels. Riniock wasted no time, hauling the man into one of the compartments and shutting the door behind them.
With precision and cold resolve, Riniock drew the dagger and slashed it across the man’s neck in one fluid motion. Blood sprayed in dark arcs, bubbling up from the gaping wound as the man gurgled in his final moments. Within seconds, his thrashing ceased, and his chest rose no more.
Riniock stepped back, exhaling sharply as he wiped his brow. He glanced down at his clothes, checking for bloodstains. ‘Well,’ he muttered, his voice tinged with grim humour, ‘this wasn’t exactly how I imagined this trip would go.’
The stench of the latrines would mask the smell of death for hours, and it would likely be long before anyone discovered the body tucked away in the stall. The anonymity of the place worked in Riniock’s favour, and he intended to vanish well before suspicion could reach him. It was near impossible to pinpoint him within this massive underground bazaar even if they attempted to track his magick signature.
But he wasn’t done yet.
‘Dead men don’t need coins,’ he said, quoting a line he’d once heard from a bandit. With swift hands, he rifled through the man’s belongings and found what he sought – the enchanted bag.
‘I’ll be taking this,’ he murmured with finality, tying the bag to his waist before stepping out of the latrines and back into the auction house. His face betrayed no sign of the dark deed he’d just committed.
Riniock scanned his surroundings carefully, ensuring no one was watching as he made his way back to Linry.
‘You’re back,’ Linry greeted him with a mischievous smile that matched her playful tone. ‘I managed to snag a few nice things while you were gone.’
‘That’s great,’ Riniock replied casually, though his slight grin betrayed his mood.
Linry tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. ‘And what about you? Did you get what you were after? You seem…rather pleased with yourself.’
Riniock chuckled, unable to hide his expression from someone who knew him as well as Linry.
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ she pressed.
‘I’ll tell you once we’re out of here,’ he said, glancing around at the bustling bazaar. ‘Too many ears.’
The pair lingered a while longer, casually inspecting a few more items to avoid drawing attention. They even managed to secure the last item on display before finally departing. As they walked past the guards, bidding them a polite farewell, Linry turned the conversation back to him.
‘So,’ she began with a sly look, ‘what’s got you so chipper? Oh!’ Her eyes locked onto the dagger now strapped at Riniock’s side. ‘You got the blade you wanted.’
‘I did,’ he confirmed with a nod.
‘But that’s not all, is it?’ Linry continued, her gaze sharp and probing. ‘What happened with the man who owned it?’
Riniock met her gaze, knowing there was no use hiding it. ‘I killed him,’ he admitted, recounting the encounter in detail.
Linry’s lips curled into a quiet chuckle. ‘So, I assume you have his money too? The solaris he made from selling that psychorite eye?’
Riniock shrugged, his expression neutral. ‘Probably. I haven’t gone through it yet.’
Linry chuckled again, this time more softly.
‘What’s so funny?’ Riniock asked, raising a brow.
‘Nothing,’ she replied, her tone teasing. ‘You just look adorable when you’re this pleased with yourself.’