My pulse quickened as Xerces strode into the spotlight, a striking figure clad in a black tie and crisp white shirt. Tactical suspenders accentuated his frame, and a draped jacket exuded an air of calculated elegance.
The threads of my memories wove together, connecting the dots that had already been loosely tied this whole time.
Back at the docks while assisting the fisherman with unloading his crates, I had used fractured sight on a crate—only to witness a scene of the very box on a different pier, alongside the fisherman and another figure.
Much like the Xerces standing before me up on stage now, he had a youthful appearance masked with an aura of gravitas. His presence was a palpable force. Xerces was no doubt the same person I had seen with fractured sight.
As the puzzle pieces fell into place, a chilling realization washed over me. Xerces, deeply entwined in the intricate web of connections I had fallen into—The Barros Family Scroll that came from the crate, the supplements in Araway, Lorenzo, Pandora, and now The Black Rose—all intertwined within his presence. Could Xerces be behind all of this mess or was there even more to untangle?
A shiver traced a path down my spine, a tremor of unease tinged with the moment's gravity. I stood rooted to the spot in between bodies of various sizes, masking my shock behind a veil of impassivity, unwilling to reveal my startling revelation to those around me.
King's introduction echoed in the background, the crowd's exuberance muted by the weight of my sudden comprehension.
Xerces extended his gratitude to King with a firm handshake and took centre stage, stepping into the spotlight of the auction. With poised eloquence, he addressed the expectant crowd.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and others alike," Xerces's voice, a blend of confidence and allure, captivated the audience's attention. "As King has announced, I will be the new supplier in charge of these illusive underground markets, taking over the previous one. Only with your cooperation as loyal customers will we be able to maintain and help our community thrive once more.”
Xerces’ news caused an elated outcry from the crowd, causing the whole market to rumble from just the noise.
“I've gathered for this esteemed auction an assortment of treasures—artifacts of immense value and rarity, and for the future, I’ll only be providing the utmost best materials at my disposal to add to the market's collection. And without further ado, let us continue with the auction shall we?"
As Xerces's words reverberated through the eager crowd, I glanced around, my gaze darting amidst the sea of faces, searching for signs of Fleur and Lucas.
Fleur's crimson jacket, a beacon in the crowd, moved purposefully, luring attention away to a distant corner. Lucas though remained elusive. Hopefully, he was ready and waiting for our opportune moment.
The auction's tempo escalated, all focus turning back to the stage as Xerces began unveiling the treasures he had assembled.
As a sizable, fabric-covered box was wheeled onto the platform, Xerces began describing the product.
"Behold, esteemed guests," Xerces's voice, rich with dramatic flair, echoed through the air. "I give to you an ancient relic from a great beast of old—a treasure retrieved over a decade ago from an exhibition in the depths of the Ira Hills. The beast was told to be slain by one of the greatest and most influential arcanists of their time."
As King removed the fabric covering, a hushed reverence fell over the audience. Revealed within the large glass box lay an immense, dirty-grey object, a dull green hue accentuating its imposing presence as if it was mossy. Despite its dull outward appearance, an energy seemed to emanate from the object, an undeniable aura of power that sent shivers down my spine.
"It is with great honour," Xerces continued, his voice resounding with authority, "that I present to you the Tooth of an Ira Giant from Era 2! Bidding will start at-"
Before Xerces could finish, the first bids were called out from the crowd.
“7,000!”
“8,000!”
"10,000!"
“Do I hear 11 thousand!” Xerces called out to incentivise the customers.
“20,000!” A voice rang out from the crowd, a declaration that brought the bidding war to a momentary halt. The audience held their breath, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife.
A brief silence lingered, pregnant with expectation, before Xerces raised his hand.
"Going once! Going twice!" His voice carried over the hushed audience, each word punctuating the charged atmosphere.
"Sold!" His voice resonated, sweeping across the room, the decisive strike of his hand simulating the motion of a gavel. "To the distinguished bidder, the Giant Tooth from Era 2 now belongs to you."
I glanced towards the hooded figure, their vibrant orange hair peeking from beneath the shadows of their hood. Their identity obscured but their distinctive appearance drawing attention, the hood proving insufficient in concealing their striking hair.
Without delay, the glass case housing the tooth was swiftly wheeled offstage, making way for the introduction of the next coveted relic.
Xerces, clearly a master on stage poised himself at the centre, his presence commanding the room's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for another relic of old, a symbol of a bygone era. Created by the renowned arcanist known as The Warriors Blade, this weapon—though only a fragment—holds immense value and historical significance."
King, at Xerces's behest, unveiled the next artifact, shrouded in an air of mystique. The crowd, previously abuzz with fervour, fell into a reverent silence, their collective gaze fixated on the object revealed before them.
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It was a hilt of a sword, held up on a rack inside the glass box. What remained of the weapon wasn’t just the hilt, but a small section of the blade as well, as if it had been broken off. At its full size, it would have been at least double the size of a regular-sized sword at three meters large. Its design was rather simple yet it clearly wasn’t by its description.
The bidding for the sword went much slower and ended up being sold at a price of 13,000 gold to a different hooded figure near the back of the markets before it was wheeled off stage like the rest of the product.
I was growing slightly impatient yet nervous as well. I had no clue when the pages would be up. Would they be next on the register? Would they be last?
As the next cart was wheeled on stage, Xerces continued his glorious announcements.
"Behold," Xerxes's voice resonated, "an artifact of unparalleled opulence and historicity. This relic comes from the personal collection of The [Crowned Puppeteer], an icon of the Third Era."
With a flourish, King unveiled the fabric covering the case, revealing a resplendent golden chalice adorned with a mosaic of glistening, multi-coloured red gemstones. The ornate piece exuded an extravagance that surpassed utility—a visual spectacle rather than a functional cup, I mused silently.
The bidding commenced, escalating into a frenzy of financial prowess as the crowd vied for ownership of this ostentatious but seemingly less magical artifact. The bids soared, driven by the allure of extravagance rather than intrinsic arcane power.
Amidst the feverish bidding, a sudden call of "30,000 gold!" pierced through the clamour, resonating with a familiarity that jolted me into alertness.
The sizable bid had come from the same hooded figure earlier with vibrant orange hair poking out, their presence in this arena growing more intriguing by the moment.
They must be from the capital Goldeen to be able to spend such money not only on one item but two. Someone of royalty? An aristocrat? Would such figures even venture into the arcanist world?
In Leode, to have that much money to throw around would be enough to live multiple lifetimes. For an alright household in Leode would cost between 15 silver to 1 or even 2 gold a week at the most for the middle class.
But to have funds to spend 50 thousand in one auction, you'd need to be from a very wealthy family and the extremely rich only live in Goldeen. The city of riches. Eventually, I'd be living there. Earning only 20 silver a week at The Den as a Huntsman and bounty hunter, as well as the hefty bounty payout from Deka, I was currently sitting somewhat comfortably at 54 gold, 13 silver and 6 copper.
Amidst the clamour, whispers flitted through the air.
"I’m sure they’re a noble from Goldeen," murmured one onlooker. "An adventurer from the Western Continent," chimed in another voice. "They’re part of the royal family, here in secrecy," speculated yet another, the notion sparking both curiosity and disbelief.
As Xerces orchestrated the auction with practised finesse, the chalice's bid soared, punctuated by the decisive call of "Sold!"
Elias's eyes darted toward the office adjacent to the stage, calculating his next move. The chalice was now being wheeled into that room. The room where the items were being stored, presumably for handoff afterwards.
The need to infiltrate that space seized my thoughts. With honed physicality, I could navigate past the guards, but entry and exit without drawing attention remained a daunting puzzle. Hopefully, Fleur and Lucas will figure that part out.
As the door to King's office closed for a brief moment to prepare the next product to be sold, I decided to try and use fractured sight once again by brushing up against the shoulders next to me.
In the tumult of the auction, I sought to glimpse again into the near future. My mind projected forward, envisioning the path leading to the office. To see how I would possibly infiltrate the office.
A fraction of a second hung in the air, my consciousness skimming the surface of a future vision. Yet, a wave of realization crashed upon me—an abrupt understanding that I shouldn't peer into scenes involving myself as it had caused painful consequences before, a realization that had dawned too late.
The fracturing vision revealed a moment of myself entering the office, seen through the eyes of a stranger's jacket.
But in an instant, the vision warped, morphing into an old TV static-like haze. Shades of red and grey swirled, engulfing my senses, and blinding me momentarily.
The scene shattered into a chaotic blur, leaving my mind and body disoriented and reeling in shock.
Meanwhile, on the stage, Xerces's voice began to cut through the clamour, announcing the next item up for auction. However, amidst the chaos in my mind, his words were drowned in a muffled cacophony, lost to the fog that enveloped my senses.
As the foggy mist that covered my very sight dissipated, a different fractured scene slowly revealed itself. Though it was the same one I had seen earlier. The stage, Xerces, and the pages in the glass box that loomed ahead.
Yet, this time, a stark difference reverberated within the fractured scene. One I couldn’t ignore.
"Behold! This final item in tonight's auction," Xerces's voice boomed, filling the space with a majestic cadence, "holds within it the echoes of a bygone era. Lost to time for many centuries, yet now, we’ve managed to unearth just a fragment of an artifact steeped in history—a testament to the early years of the second era. A piece of an artifact, written by [The Lonely Wanderer] himself."
His words hung heavy in the charged atmosphere, anticipation crackling like electricity in the air.
Yet, amidst the spectacle, a disconcerting sight within my webbed fracture took over me.
Velvety red threads, ethereal and partially opaque, emerging from every person’s centre in my line of sight. Each thread converged, taut and focused, toward a singular point—a darkened corner of the markets.
A searing pain then shot through the front of my head, a throbbing ache that demanded my attention. I clenched my eyes shut tight sending the fractured scene away and began sensing a warm wetness behind my eyelids, creating an intense and uncomfortable feeling.
Amidst my disorientation, the fabric concealing the stage's new offering was pulled away, a collective gasp and murmur rippling through the crowd, a spectacle I could only sense through the chatter surrounding me.
In complete darkness, numbers started flying out before Xerces could even announce what the item was.
“10 thousand!”
“15 thousand!”
“20 thousand!”
And just like clockwork, a familiar voice once again called out an outrageous number of 35 thousand gold, and caused the room to go silent once again.
“40 thousand gold!” Called out another voice.
This time there was competition. There was another not wanting to let this item go that easily.
“42 thousand!”
“45 thousand!”
“46 thousand!”
A back and forth continued until I couldn’t discern who had the highest bid until a silence finally came too.
Amongst the silence, Xerces then called out, “Going once. Going twice, Going three times…”
With the same uncomfortable feeling under my eyelids, I opened them to see the stage, the glass case, and 3 rough and familiar pages inside.
Yet my sight was stained in a hue of deep red as the warm liquid from my eyes started trickling down my cheeks.
And with a swipe of his hand, Xerces shouted into the breathless sea of arcanists.
“Sold!”