Leaving Sacril in the room wasn’t ideal, but I needed some time to think, study, and maybe even be around people.
I had plans, but I also knew that a clear mind was necessary to bring them to fruition.
Wandering the streets of Crimson Berry Town,
I asked a man with a beard; he was a shopkeeper, and from what I can see, he was selling quality leather products.
“Hi.”
“Do you know any place that is a little pricey but also sells quality tea, coffee, and sweets?”
The man looked at me and smiled as he pointed me toward a place called the Merchant Lodge.
According to him,
It was a spot reserved for merchants and those willing to pay a little extra for the privilege. Intriguing.
When I arrived, I saw the building was nothing short of impressive.
It was a grand structure with tall wooden pillars and a spacious balcony overlooking the bustling streets below.
“This place looks like it does not serve commoners at all.”
I stepped inside and was greeted by a finely dressed attendant who asked, with an air of polite curiosity, if I was a merchant.
I shook my head and explained that I was willing to pay the fee for entry. One silver coin exchanged hands, and with that, I was allowed to step into this exclusive sanctuary.
“So, there is a guild named Merchant Guild...”
“If I were a member, I would be given entry and a 20% discount on all the products within the Merchant Lodge.”
“Being a mage made me forget that there are common things that exist too.”
The inside was as refined as I’d imagined.
The main hall was filled with round tables adorned with crisp white linens.
Merchants sat in groups, talking animatedly about deals, prices, and trade routes.
The scent of spiced tea and baked goods hung in the air, warm and inviting.
I made my way to the balcony, drawn by the promise of fresh air and a quieter atmosphere.
Taking a seat at a small table near the edge, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The view was incredible.
From here, I could see the heart of Crimson Berry Town—the stalls, the people, the life of it all. It was the kind of sight that reminded me why I kept moving forward.
An attendant approached, a young man with a friendly smile, and asked if I wanted to order anything.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I glanced at the menu he handed me and decided on a cup of tea and a slice of Crimson Berry pie.
"Crimson Berry," I murmured as I placed the order.
The tea arrived first, served in a delicate porcelain cup. Its warmth seeped into my hands as I lifted it, the aromatic steam carrying hints of mint and something citrusy. It was soothing—exactly what I needed.
“A porcelain cup in this place, a small town.”
The pie followed shortly after, its crimson hue as vivid as the name suggested.
The first bite was a revelation—a harmonious blend of sweet and tart that danced across my tongue.
I couldn’t help but close my eyes, savoring the moment.
Between sips of tea and bites of pie, I pulled out my notes.
"Everything begins with a plan."
I murmured to myself, tapping the pen against the table.
Being surrounded by people, even if they were strangers, reminded me of the interconnectedness of life.
Everyone here had their own goals, their own reasons for being.
As I finished my pie, I leaned back in my chair and let my gaze wander across the townscape.
The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows and bathing the town in a warm, golden light.
The moment was peaceful, and I allowed myself to simply exist in it, unburdened by the weight of the future or the echoes of the past.
"Sometimes," I thought, "it’s enough to just be."
-
Chapter 4
-
The Merchant Lodge buzzed with its usual hum of activity, but my focus was fixed entirely on the young man seated near the balcony.
From the moment I stepped into the room, I had a feeling he was the one I was looking for.
Marsil.
The name lingered in my mind,
It was hard to reconcile the image of the person I saw with the importance Evan had implied.
The man before me looked utterly unremarkable at first glance—average build, plain attire, no air of authority or exceptional power about him.
Yet, something kept drawing my attention back to him.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
I reminded myself, settling into a seat across the room where I could observe him without drawing attention.
He didn’t notice me at first.
His gaze was distant, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.
His demeanor wasn’t one of arrogance or bravado—traits I would have expected if he were truly someone Evan would associate with.
Instead, he seemed contemplative, his brow furrowing slightly as he scribbled on a piece of paper. A scholar, perhaps? Or a strategist? The possibilities were intriguing.
“I am not sure why Evan wanted me to introduce myself to this guy and then tell him that I am a friend of his and need his help.”
As I sat there, watching the way he sipped his tea with unhurried ease, my mind began to piece together the puzzle.
“Could it be that his unassuming nature was part of his strength? A hidden blade is often sharper than one openly brandished.”
“No ordinary man would have caught Evan’s attention,”
I thought, my fingers absently tracing the rim of the goblet before me.
Evan was not a man who wasted his time on those without value.
I leaned forward slightly, catching myself in a whisper.
"Perhaps the surface does not tell the whole story."
With that thought, I decided to approach him.
If he was indeed Marsil, I needed to understand who he truly was—not just from Evan’s words, but from my own observations.
Rising from my seat, I smoothed the fabric of my gown and approached his table with a purposeful stride.
As I neared him, he finally looked up, his eyes meeting mine with mild curiosity.
They weren’t remarkable in color, but there was a sharpness to them.
I nodded to him, offering a polite smile as I introduced myself.
"Good evening. My name is Elenora. I hope I am not intruding, but may I have a word with you?"