Avin watched with a boredom that was slowly blossoming into a gorgeous, red, irritation as the noble parade went by. Flanked front and back with obscene colored minstrels, exotic animals, and musicians, the entire thing was taking far too long to pass her store. As long as the procession continued, potential customers would not be able to cross the street to buy her wares. She considered bringing this up at the next vendor meeting. 

Reflexively, she let her rage pull her back to an encounter with a lady of the court earlier. Gaudy jewelry clinking as she had breezed into the curio shop.

Avin had looked up from the book she was flipping through, stifling a groan. Although she knew women like this could potentially buy enough in one go to cover her bills for a month, she still detested catering to their better-than-thou antics.

“Hello!” Avin feigned warm hospitality, “What can I help you find?”

The noble stood firmly at the door, nose upturned as if she might catch poverty if she took one step more. Ignoring Avins questions she said, mostly to herself, “It’s like this entire part of the city was erected out of the waste of Karta. How… industrious.”

Pulling herself back to the raucous parade, Avin ran her tongue over her lower lip, bruised from how hard she had bit it to stay quiet.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, blowing it out and imagining the street clear and the noise gone. When she opened her eyes, she was paralyzed by the vision before her. The street was devoid of life. Even the vendors who had been standing in windows and doorsteps were gone. Silence had fallen so complete that she swore she could hear the blood in her very veins pounding.

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut this time. Hoping she wasn’t going insane. Slowly, she peeked from beneath her lashes. Avin knew the world had returned back to its original state because she heard it before she could see it. 

“What was that?” She murmured to herself. Taking one step backwards so that she was fully in the dim and muted caress of her shop, she shut the door.

Avin walked slowly around glass cases to the washroom in the back and inspected her reflection, backlit by the sunlight streaming in through the window. Mahogany hair still in its braid from the morning and feline-like eyes still sporting their usual dark circles. She looked the same. 

She realized her hands, flanking either side of the water basin were trembling, sending errant medical supplies to the ground. Magic wasn’t unheard of but it was rare. The old King had done his best to eradicate it after a prophecy had foretold his lineage would be undone by it. He had cut down anyone who had even been rumored to have magic and swore that he would continue until there was not even a whisper of it left. 

“It wasn’t magic. It was fatigue. It was a trick of my mind. It was my irritation as those assholes always showing off while we struggle down here.” Avin tried to conjure more reasons why her eyes and ears and all other senses had temporarily deceived her when she heard the door of her shop swing open. “I guess it was a short show today. Thank the gods.” Running a quick hand down her oversized button up and straightening her brown trousers, she made her way to the front to hopefully sell some goods. 

The stranger stood, back to Avin, over a  glass stand that held ancient relics. Along with her eyes, her unintended stealth had also been compared to that of a cat. Avin considered making her footfall a bit louder so as to not startle the patron, but it proved to be unnecessary as the stranger spoke without turning. 

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“Where did you find these?”

The voice was velveteen. It made the hair on Avins arms stand at attention. She looked at the broad shoulders, ink black hair, falling out of its leather band in a wavy mess on their shoulders. Although Karta was a large city, its inhabitants largely followed the same fashion trends and this stranger, in their worn leather jacket, hanging to their knees, satchel and paraphernalia didn’t fit. She wanted to see their face. 

“They were brought in by a traveler many years ago. They said they were forged in dragon fire.” The last part wasn’t strictly true, but Avin knew that people would pay far more for metals touched by mythical beasts than the local ironsmith. 

The stranger finally turned. “Dragon fire, huh?” A smile pulled one corner of his mouth up. His eyes shown, a mixture of colors that were reminiscent of a forest floor. 

“Is there something amusing about dragon fire?”

“Nothing at all. But that piece of metal wasn’t touched by dragon fire anymore than I am the king of this city.” Now fully facing her, leaning on the glass that held the relic in question, Avin was able to fully take in the details she couldn’t have noticed from behind. He was tall, and even with his arms now loosely folded over his chest, she could see the many scars on his hands trailing into his sleeves. He wore several necklaces that she longed to look at, sheerly out of professional curiosity. She did own an antiquities store and they looked like they had been around for quite some time. She hadn’t realized she had been staring until her eyes returned to his face and saw his eyebrow cocked. 

“My apologies. I noticed your amulets and well… It's a force of habit. I’m Avin. What brings you in?”

“Rihla.” He replied in way of introduction. “ I’m actually not looking for any more jewelry but one of the shop owners, mad something, told me you might know where to find some lodging for a few nights. 

“Her name is Maddie but I don’t have space in my shop. I’m sorry you were misled.”

Rihla nodded and pushed up from his position against the glass counter, wincing with the strain as he did. It was only then that Avin noticed a dark spot she had mistaken for dirt on one of his pant legs.

“Sit.” She commanded. “Why didn’t you mention you also needed medical care?” She now realized why Maddie had referred this man to her.  “ I’m going to go and get some supplies from the back but I need you to understand that I am armed. If you try anything stupid while my back is turned, you will find out how well the women of this city can protect themselves and you’ll have a lot more than a wounded leg to worry about.” With a stare that communicated her earnestness, Avin turned on one foot to get her medical kit. Had she turned half a second later, she would have seen Rihla’s lips twitch into a grin.

Several stitches later, Avin sat back and admired her work. The wound on Rihla’s leg had been large and becoming close to infected. He had insisted it came from a branch he had run into but the wound was too clean. A branch would have left a jagged cut - not the deep and precise slice she had just sewn back together.

“So are you a bandit? And before you attempt to lie, this part of Karta isn’t filled with nobility. I’ve seen enough wounds to know when a wound was delivered from a well honed blade.”

Rihla had been looking just past Avins shoulder. In lieu of herbs to numb the pain, Avin had come back with her medical gear brandishing a bottle of back alley booze. The concoction was vile but Rihla had continued to take gulps as his leg was cleaned and sewn back together. He shook his head as if he could slough off the buzz. 

“Did you ask if I’m a bandit?” his words slurred lazily out, eyes widening in drunken revelation. 

Avin’s at Rihla’s face for the first time since she’d begun work on his leg and she began laughing. A laugh so hard that she had to brace herself against the floor.

“Is this your first time drinking fire water?” She was barely able to get the sentence out between laughs. The man's lips quivered in a lame attempt to hold back, but due to what he now knew was fire water, joined her laughing. 

“Who gives someone something called ‘fire water’ without first asking if they’ve had it before?”