I awake before the summer sun, feeling completely rested. I am unsure how long I slept, but it couldn't have been eight hours if the sun hadn't risen, which means a tentative success. Imagine all I can do with an extra two hours every day. For appearance's sake, I lay back to enter my experimental room. After the first shipment of materials, I devote all my free time to rune crafting. I split this between rods and glow gems, taking me almost three times the magic to rune glow gems. The magic-intensive part of this comes from engraving.

The accessibility of the surface you are runeing makes a distinct difference. This first amalgamation has portions of its rune formation under the surface. Two parallel inductor runes circle the heart of the gem. Two slices of these runes graze the surface, creating transference runes to act as the trigger. In my mind palace, this is as easy as picturing the material. In the real world, I have to meticulously remove the rune print with a tendril of destruction magic while it is in my mouth; worlds harder.

I destroy half of my quartz before the next week to successfully rune the other half into glow gems. With the payment from Crucus, even reduced because of all the glow gems I am working on, I make twice as much money as I would with the tubes alone, solving the second step of my plan.

Once I have a batch of glow gems, I endeavor to do the riskiest part of this plan: selling them. The sale of any magical good produced by an unlicensed mage is punishable by death. Even with the contact Yeln gave me, I procrastinated for a few days, putting off the chore. What if this gets me and everyone involved killed? I wasn’t as worried about the orphans because I was the only link to them, but this could get Jer and this person killed.

After considering it, I decided to go alone. It is better to limit exposure when possible. I locate the shop in a lower district, a pawn brokerage with few shops throughout the city. Blinky’s Bobbles is in a dingy part of the city, with streets loitering people suffering the cost of prosperity. If you wish for rain, don’t hate wetness. The assortment of goods is a hodgepodge in terms of quality and variety. I spot a few odds and ends of interest only to stall the decision.

“Hello, sr.”

“Good on ya. Got something good in that bag?” The gruff counter attendant asks, eyeing me, then the bag.

“I am a friend of Yeln, looking for goods with-”

“Hold on, I’ll get my boss.” They grunt, making me guess they worked on commission.

A significant person wearing a dark silk suit with a light honey undertone enters from the back room. Their deep wrinkles contrast a fit form, and aged eyes tell harsh realities. That look expresses a gruesome practicality, a willingness to justify means with ends. It is an intense experience to be examined by someone so imposing, to be picked apart as if you are undoubtedly one of two things.

“Yeln sent ya?”

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“Yeah, I have a missive from them. You can probably assert the validity of my claim from this.” I hope, handing over the letter.

“Hmm… The stamp seems valid enough; com’on then.” They determine while moving me back. “Alright, let’s see what you got.” They command, after leading me into a cramped store room with a tiny desk.

“I will appreciate more respect in our dealings, as they can be substantial. We will need to get our percentages set.”

“What?” They laugh. “Alright, I don't mean to be brusque, little one. You clearly don’t understand stuff like this. We can’t determine a reasonable percentage if I don’t see the goods.”

“Oh, I am unaware. Thank you for the information.”

“Creations’ will, is this a glow gem?”

“It is; I can get five a week.”

“That will work for a time, keeps demand high, and helps with suspicions. Are these stolen?” They shift as they ask the last part.

“No?”

“Good, we can do this. But this is a limited market. The people who can afford to purchase glow gems won't require this, which means we have to sell to people who, for whatever reason, are restricted access to things like this. That means we will have a considerable markdown from the price. On top of that, there is a market solubility for products like this. There is a limit to the total number of units we can sell.”

“This sounds like it’s going to be a large cut. How much do you want?”

“Sixty Forty.”

“I agree with me getting Sixty?”

“No.”

“Are you serious? How often do you get clean amalgamations that you can sell? You have to see that I am doing more work here.”

“I won't see you doing more work, but I will see myself taking more risk, the only vulnerable part of this, which validates sixty percent.”

“How about fifty-fifty? Keep it even.”

“That sounds good to me,” they agree too quickly.

“Alright, the market is one gold; discount that for the product's origin by thirty?”

“Thirty-five,” they correct.

“So fifty of the remaining sixty-five? Thirty-two silver and fifty copper,” I summate.

“At least you know your numbers.”

“It is less than I was hoping for.”

“Do you want any copper?”

“No, bits are fine.”

“But before I go, I’ll need a cover for being here. I'll probably grab something from the showroom. Also, I don’t wish to come here again. We must set a convenient and covert place.”

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“We need a place just inside the Sanctum campus, close enough to be safe.”

“I own a hotel near the sanctum. I have a trusted attendant there; ask for Weasel. You can find it in the market square, called The Regal. You can handle the rest with my attendant.” They conclude, guiding me back through the door to the showroom.

“Dulfus get’em thirty-two and five bits silver when they have picked out a gift.”

“A gift?” I smile.

“Keep it under a silver. I ain’t running a charity.”

“I will pick something modest. Thank you, sr. I am— should we do names?”

“You are green; call us Bilby, and we’ll call you Greenie.”