Kael's frustration mixed with a cold wave of desperation. He was failing. He couldn't fail. Not now, not when every bronze coin was a lifeline, a barrier against starvation, against the relentless gnawing hunger that twisted his insides.

Just as he was about to give up, a shadow fell over him. Kael looked up to see a man standing there, a mountain of a figure draped in a heavy, dark cloak that hid his features in shadow. Only his eyes, sharp and calculating, were visible, piercing through the gloom like twin embers.

“What’ve you got there, kid?” the man asked, his voice a low rumble, smooth, almost friendly, but with an undercurrent of something harder, something that made Kael’s instincts scream a warning.

Kael felt a wave of relief wash over him, the tension in his chest easing slightly. Finally, someone was paying attention. He held out the pelt and a tooth, his voice trembling slightly. “It’s… it’s not much, but it’s good quality. I—” His words faltered, his voice trailing off as the man's gaze, sharp and unsettling, met his own. the way his silver eye seemed to bore into him, sent a shiver of unease down his spine. There was something dangerous in that gaze, a hardness, a hunger that made his skin crawl. Relief warred with fear, the conflicting emotions twisting in his gut. He didn’t know this man, didn’t trust him, but what choice did he have?

“Let’s see," the man said, his voice barely a murmur.

His hands were quick, deft, as he took the items, the pelt slipping through his fingers like water as he inspected the fur, the edges, the faint traces of blood that still clung to its underside. His gaze lingered on the tooth, turning it over, examining the sharp point, the faint gleam of enamel.

Kael’s heart hammered in his chest, his pulse a deafening roar in his ears. He watched the man’s hands, his fingers moving with a swift, practiced ease, the way his eyes flicked over the items with a cold, calculating gaze. The man’s silence was a blade, cutting deeper with each passing second, the anticipation twisting his stomach into knots. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, every nerve strung tight, waiting for the verdict.

The man glanced around, his gaze briefly sweeping over the nearby stalls and the murky, shifting crowd. Then, with a swift, almost dismissive motion, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small pouch. Kael’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the glint of coins through the faint opening. Was he finally going to get something worth his trouble?

“This’ll do,” the man said, tossing the pouch to Kael with a flick of his wrist. The weight of it felt promising for a brief, hopeful second. But as he loosened the drawstring and looked inside, his stomach dropped. Three bronze coins. Not even enough for a proper meal, let alone anything that could help him survive the next few days.

He glanced up, mouth opening to protest, but the man was already turning away, his cloak swirling behind him like a shroud of darkness. “Good doing business with you, kid,” he called over his shoulder, the words light, casual, as if they hadn’t just crushed Kael’s last thread of hope.

Kael’s fingers tightened around the pouch, the coarse fabric biting into his skin. His mind raced, a whirlwind of disbelief and frustration. He’d been cheated. The bitter taste of failure welled up in his throat, but he swallowed it down, his eyes hardening as he watched the man disappear into the crowd.

He was just an orphan, a nobody. What had he expected?

His knees felt weak, his vision blurring as the enormity of his failure crashed over him. He’d put everything into this, risked everything, and for what? Three pathetic coins, a few worthless scraps.

“Don’t show your weakness,” he muttered, a phrase he’d learned from Taris, back when they were still a crew, back when betrayal was just a word, not a gaping wound in his heart.

He tucked the coins away, the weight of them a meager comfort against the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. He had to move, had to find another buyer, someone who wouldn’t take advantage of his desperation.

He hadn't gotten far when another shadow detached itself from the bustling crowd. This one was taller, leaner, a woman with eyes like chipped obsidian and a smile that didn't quite reach her lips. Her fingers were adorned with rings— tarnished silver, dull gold, and a single, iridescent stone that caught the dim light, sending a sliver of rainbow across his vision.

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“Those scales. Intriguing,” she purred, her voice a silken whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. It was different from the cloaked man’s gruff dismissal. This woman… she saw something in his wares, a spark of interest that made him straighten his posture, clutch the remaining items tighter.

“Strong, aren't they? Beast I took down myself. Deep in the mountains,” Kael lied, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. He knew nothing about these creatures, where they came from, only that their hides were tougher than any he’d encountered in the city's gutters.

The woman’s gaze lingered on his hands, calloused and scarred, his knuckles raw from his recent battles. She smiled again, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that didn't reach her eyes.

“I bet you did, darling," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "How much for the lot? The teeth, the scales. I have a… use for such things.”

Kael hesitated, his instincts screaming a warning. This was too easy. Too smooth. But the hunger gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his precarious position.

“Five bronze,” he said, his voice firmer this time, the price plucked from the hazy memories of past bartering deals in Mudtown.

The woman's eyebrows arched, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Five? For all of this?" Her gaze swept across his meagre offering, a touch of disdain coloring her tone.

He hesitated, caught in the intricate dance of greed and necessity. “Four then,” he countered, his voice tightening, hoping he hadn’t pushed too far. He needed that money, needed to eat.

“You drive a hard bargain, darling,” she chuckled, the sound a soft, almost musical chime against the backdrop of the market’s chaos. She reached into a pouch at her belt, her fingers, adorned with rings, pulling out a handful of coins. Four. Four bronze coins. It wasn’t much, not really, but it was something.

Before Kael could give her the items, the woman's fingers brushed his, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of something like electricity through him. He stared down at his hand, a coldness settling in his gut. The bundle, the remaining teeth and the two beast scale pelts, were gone.

The woman had disappeared into the crowd, a phantom slipping through shadows, leaving him standing there, empty-handed, a fool. It had happened again.

Kael felt a wave of despair crash over him. He leaned against a stall, his head spinning, the market around him blurring, the voices swirling into an incomprehensible cacophony. He was a fool. A naive, weak, pathetic fool. He didn’t belong here, in this world of sharp eyes and quick fingers. He'd never survive. All he had left was the flask. He took it out of his pocket and looked down at it. He was about to give up, to succumb to the growing darkness, when a rough hand landed on his shoulder.

“Kid, what you got in the flask?”

Kael turned to see a man, his face weathered and lined, a single, silver eye piercing through the grime that covered his features. He was missing a few teeth, and a jagged scar bisected his right eyebrow, adding to his intimidating aura. The man gestured towards the crude flask Kael held, the one containing the last of his spoils from the realms. The Grotto Maw Heartblood.

"It’s... a potion,” Kael stammered, scrambling for a believable lie. He knew better than to reveal the origins of his wares here. The people of Mudtown wouldn't understand. The man’s gaze narrowed, the single silver eye fixed on Kael with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. “What kind of potion?” he pressed, his voice gruff, skeptical.

“A… a strength potion,” Kael said, hoping the lie wouldn't crumble beneath the man's scrutiny. He’d heard stories about such potions, whispers of alchemists who brewed concoctions that could grant temporary power, enhance abilities.

The man snorted, a sound that seemed to shake his entire frame. "Strength potion, huh?" He took the flask, uncorking it, sniffing the contents cautiously. His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he caught a whiff of the Heartblood’s pungent, earthy aroma.

It was unlike anything he'd smelled before. “You tryin’ to scam me, kid?” The skepticism returned, a hardness in his voice, a glint in his eye. He knew this was something unusual, something potent. The questions lingered in the air, but the Market of Shadows operated on a different code.

“Maybe,” Kael countered, summoning a defiance he didn't quite feel. His instincts screamed at him to back down, to flee this encounter, but something about the man’s sharp gaze, the glimmer of curiosity beneath the suspicion, kept him rooted to the spot.

“And maybe you’re holding onto something special,” the man said, his gaze holding Kael's. “I'll give you this, for the risk.” He flicked a single iron coin towards Kael.

It was stamped with the image of a roaring lion, the crest of the Mer Empire. Kael’s eyes widened. An iron coin. That was… a fortune. It was more money than he’d ever seen, let alone held. He snatched it out of the air before the man could change his mind. "Deal," he croaked, his throat dry, the word barely audible above the cacophony of the market.

The man grinned, a flash of jagged teeth that mirrored the scar above his eye, and tucked the flask under his cloak. He turned and melted back into the crowd, a wraith disappearing into the swirling currents of the market.

Kael stared at the iron coin in his hand, the heavy metal cool and solid against his palm, the image of the roaring lion a promise of power, of security.

He had money now. More money than he ever dreamed of. It was enough to buy food, to find shelter, to start over.

But he knew, deep down, that it wouldn't be enough. Not really. Because the emptiness within him, the hunger that gnawed at his soul, couldn't be filled by food, or shelter, or even the Shard’s whispers of power. It was a hunger for something more, something he couldn't quite name, something that the world, in all its brutal, relentless chaos, seemed determined to deny him.