The cobblestone streets winded through the city with colorful market stalls overflowing with exotic wares and aromatic dishes. The streets were bustling with activity at evenfall, most shops wide open under the glowing lamps. Laura glanced at the Artificer mages' technological innovation in awe. Her town at the borders didn’t enjoy the luxury of lamps every few dozen steps, so she reveled in the novel ambiance of the capital Toseo. Lively plaza came alive with the melodies of a bard, her magical notes soothing the emotions of the people gathered in circles around them.

Laura glanced at a grill outside a restaurant roasting a lamb draped with exquisite sauces. She wiped her drool and followed her brother, pulling back her sweaty hand from his grasp and rubbing it on her kirtle.

“Don’t do that,” Byrak flicked her forehead and ruffled her hair. “I wouldn’t know where to look for you if you get lost in the crowd.”

“Is the market always this… lively?” Laura asked, rubbing her eyes on her sleeves.

“Usually yes,” Byrak scratched his stubble and continued with a lazy smile, “But only idle people hang around in the market. Otherwise, the caravans, travelers, or pilgrims usually fill the streets evenfall. And the capital always has them most of the seasons. See?” he pointed at the people draped in dark brown robes. “They are high priests of Cantelee, Astrologer mages who study the star patterns and predict the future. Stay farthest away from them, or you’ll be sucked into their religious fanatism.”

Just as they continued trudging past the slow moving crowd, a man paused before them. Scars traced most of his jaw, and his rough stubble was shaved unevenly, emphasizing the scars beneath.

“Noble Sire, would you like to buy some weapons? Just reached the capital with freshly wrought iron, tempered with bewitched waters of Sitedel. Cuts rusted old weapons like paper and can hold its own against alloy,” he placed an oversized straw bag before them and opened the stash.

Byrak glanced at the various weapons and then at Laura before picking a random dagger from the lot. “Have you been to Sitedel?”

“Dangerous land, Noble Sire. Been there once, and the rogues almost chopped my limbs off. Master’s grace, I escaped unscathed. The brack waters have been monopolized by the rogues, Sire, so it’s becoming harder and harder to enchant weapons with smithy now,” he patted his handsewn straw bag. “My last batch, I’d say. Master is old, so he can’t procure any more weapons either.”

“Recommend a dagger,” Byrak said, moving aside with a smile, “for her.”

Laura peeked at the straw bag, and her eyes glittered in excitement. Despite her incessant urge to touch the wrought metal, she hid behind her brother, casting a wary glance at the merchant. His crooked, blackened teeth made her fear him all the more.

“I’d suggest this one,” he tossed a curved black dagger from his backpack. “Kurtis, we call it,” he leaned closer and continued, “really good for rupturing arteries, sire.”

With a wave of his hand, Byrak brought it to the merchant’s neck. “Should I try?” Amused smile danced on his lips, and Laura pulled her brother’s tunic hard.

“Humble apologies, Sire, but I didn’t mean any harm.” Cold sweat trickled down his forehead as he took a cautious step back. He wiped his face with the dingy cloth hanging from his shoulder and fastened the threads of his straw bag.

“How much does it cost?” Byrak asked, taking out a few silver shillings from his pochette.

“Eight silver shillings, Sire,” the merchant said, his hands uneasy as he extended them to take the coins.

“Take ten,” Byrak sheathed the dagger in the leather case. “In return, choose your best swords and drop them off at Valecrest Manor. It’s in the outer periphery of the residential locale and is very eye-catching because there is only one manor there.”

“This humble servant is grateful, Sire,” the man’s eyes lit up, and he bowed gratefully before parting ways.

Byrak handed the dagger to Laura and straightened her tunic. “I’ll get you a strap one of these days. We can hide the dagger under your kirtle. Though, I don’t want to see you carrying it to the school,” he winked at her.

Laura giggled and caressed the sheath before following Byrak. They didn’t make any more detours on their way to the Kotch Pavillion House. Escheven was waiting for them at the auction house entrance, his own companion, a girl her age who looked annoyed.

Laura felt intimidated by the girl, but she went to greet them with her brother. She was a head taller, and Laura thought she was prettier than her. The semblance between the bear man and the girl was unmistakable, so Laura reasoned they were siblings.

“Who is this puny kid?” the girl asked, her expression haughty as she flipped her hair. They were tied to pigtails, so she didn’t really get the aura she was trying to emass.

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“Tessia-”

“Secondborn of Valecrest nobility, firstborn lady, Laura Valecrest,” Laura said, her voice a tone higher than usual, and she saw her brother nod in approval. She felt elated and suppressed her urge to hide behind her brother.

“Never heard of the family,” Tessia shook her head in disapproval. “And I don’t consider you worthy enough to introduce myself.”

Laura’s confidence plummeted, and she hid behind her brother, watching her vigilantly.

“I apologize for her rude behavior,” Escheven sighed. “She is beyond help.”

Tessia coldly harrumphed, but her eyes paused at the exquisite item in Laura’s hands. “Is that a dagger?!”

Laura hid it behind her back and kept her head low.

“Show it to me, puny kid!” Tessia extended her hand and earned a smack. With an aggrieved look, she asked, “Please show it to me, lady Laura.”

“Just Laura,” Laura said uneasily and handed the dagger to Tessia.

“What’s the scene, Escheven?” Byrak asked as they continued inside. They took the first flight of stairs on the right and went to the upper floor. Wooden railing guarded their ascent on one side, and Laura saw scores of people seated on the ground floor before the dais.

“We’ll aim for the last few items,” Escheven said. “I got some inside information that the undead tomb raid was successful. They sent a high-level battle mage and a bardic mage to accompany the adventurers for assurance, and the efforts paid off. Necromancer’s grave, untouched for over a few centuries, awaited them, their little exploit turning into a treasure hunt. A remnant of the uprising, the informer said.”

Laura glanced at the stage, decked with many items of no significance to her. She searched her memories, trying her best to remember this hall from her memories.

“Gem of unquenched soul,” Laura pulled her brother and whispered in his ears. “That’s what the prince wants. It’s on the…” she held her head, “Scepter of Eternal Shadows. The black-obsidian metal.”

Byrak nodded, ruffling her hair. “Don’t strain yourself, Laura.”

“The last necromancer mage of our kingdom died a few decades ago, so I believe there is little gain in keeping the artifact stored in the treasury,” Escheven said, his eyes glued to the battle mage at the entrance. He was decked in chainmail that clinked with every heavy step he took, his entourage scuttering around him, positioning themselves in every nook and corner of the house. “Sterlon is here, so I supposed Lord Yyk is behind the auction.”

Laura glanced at the battle mage, her little hands tightening around the dagger. She didn’t really understand why everyone was so intimidating. Was it really because her brain had yet to mature completely? She really hoped her growth would purge the fear she felt at first sight of strangers because she did not know how else to survive the woeful days of the academy.

Sterlon’s eyes paused at Laura for a while before they moved to her brother. A confused expression replaced the frown on his face, and he continued climbing the stairs, his metal boots creaking the wood a tad more than usual. He was not as huge as the bear man, but Laura felt the chainmail accentuated his terrifying aura.

“Still the same old antisocial nuke, ey?” Sterlon scanned her brother from head to toe, his lips pulled to a thin line. “Glad your old man was reposted to the capital. Don’t know how many lives he would have sacrificed in the name of victory. Scums with your blood don’t even deserve to earn that nobility status. Better off dead in some ditches.”

“Who is this big imbecile man? Can someone send him away? He’s blocking my view,” Tessia jumped before the man, thumping his chainmail. “Reserve your hautiness for your squad, and don't try to flaunt it here. For a filthy commoner to turn against a noble is unheard of, so I don’t want to hear another word from your scrawny mouth. Now, get lost before I make you disappear.”

Laura glanced at Tessia, her impression of the girl improving tremendously. She was protecting her brother, abusing her authority to do so. A skill that she should undoubtedly learn from her.

The battle mage scowled and disappeared to his station.

“I could have handled him myself,” Byrak smiled, “but thank you, anyway.”

“You can pay me back in the future,” Tessia said smugly. “You’ll marry me, after all.”

The two brothers shook their heads, and Laura giggled. She moved closer to Tessia, trying her best to feel comfortable around her. The latter didn’t mind, so they exchanged idle words, Laura doing most of the listening.

The auction started amidst the chatter of the people, and a bespeckled man stepped to the stage, his hat hiding most of his bald head.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Folks of Lycontin,” he glanced at the floor above theirs, where patrons more important than nobles were seated, “and esteemed guests of our kingdom, welcome to the one and only auction house of Toseo, The Kotch Pavillion! This humble abode shall soon transform into a stage where fortunes are made, treasures are exchanged, and destinies are changed.”

The auctioneer grinned as a woman stepped on the stage, her hand holding a chalice. "Our first item, a relic from a distant kingdom, a silver chalice, finely engraved with the symbols of forgotten gods. Who will offer a bid to start us off?"

“Two shillings!”

Laura glanced at the commotion downstairs and watched the crowd shuffle and murmur, all eyes fixed on the auctioneer.

“Two shillings! Do we hear more?!”

“Three shillings!”

“One for three, two for three-”

“Five shillings!”

“Do we have more? Do we have more?” The auctioneer glanced at the floor above before starting the countdown. “Sold to the woman for five shillings. Well done, Madam!”

“Trash,” Tessia said, shaking her head. “Why even bother placing such wasteful things in auction?”

“A few years down the line,” Laura said, remembering her mother’s words, “it’ll sell for much more than five shillings. It’s a kind of… investment.”

Tessia scowled and played with her hair. Laura noticed that Tessia eagerly awaited the rest of the auction and suppressed a smile.