The auction sold off goods faster than Laura could munch down the flatbread in her hands. Byrak had bought it for her when she was distracted with innumerable treasures she had never seen before. She wanted to take everything home for inspection, but her mother had taught her to spend wisely. So, she held back her urge, deciding to save a few thousand gold coins for the final bid. Every thousand gold coins could be converted to engraved paper notes, and she had stuffed the stack into her brother’s cloak.
“The last two items are immensely rare magical items, the only of its kind in the realm,” the auctioneer pulled the cloth off the item placed on the stage. “For the lovers of music and bardic mages, behold the Lyricist’s Lute. Each strum infused with mana carries the potential to stir the hearts of many, increasing the prowess of bardic mages twofold, letting them command the very skies. Who will make the Lute’s enchanting music their own?!”
“Twenty shillings!” A man shouted from the crowd, earning raucous laughter from all around him.
“T-twenty shillings,” the auctioneer was equally enthralled, and he coughed uncomfortably. “Do I hear more?!”
Murmurs resounded in the room, but no one was ready to offer more than a few silver shillings. Laura glanced at her brother, who was disinterested in the item as the rest of the patronages were on their floor.
“Everyone looks down on bardic mages, so it’s doubtful anyone would offer more price for a piece of wood and horse hair, magic item or not. Further, they can never set a base price for magic artifacts, so it’s a double-edged sword for the auction house,” Byrak said, folding her hands before him. “Little do folks know about the plummeting morale of recruits and hardened veterans during the war. The bards are as crucial as battle mages during the battles but are so disproportionately low in number that their achievements often go unrecognized.”
Laura noticed Tessia smile beside her.
“Fifty shillings!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “I am a bardic mage and my fiance doesn’t mind it!”
Laughter resounded around the hall, but Laura saw a haughty smile on Tessia’s lips. Byrak coughed and moved away from her.
“Please be on your best behavior, Lady Tessia. You should be an exemplary guide to those looking up to you,” Byrak said, reigning his smile. Laura knew he was as amused as the rest of them. “Also, don’t shout absurd things. They’ll spoil your reputation and bite you back in the future.”
“Fifty shillings… The lute belongs to the noble lady!” the excitement had disappeared from the auctioneer’s voice, and Laura reasoned they had sold the lute at a considerable loss.
[Underdeveloped brain: Cured 8%]
Laura blinked and shooed the images from her head. She had freaked out about the weird messages for the first few days but had gotten used to it now. Byrak had told her everyone had a different way of interpreting their prowess and had explained that this was their way.
“Byrak,” Tessia met with his eyes, “I can learn [Siren’s Serenade] and trap you for eternity, just so you know. Make me mad, and you’ll be my slave for the rest of your life.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Byrak rolled his eyes. “But do you really have any circuitry for bard magic? A rarity even among the nobility, I’d say.”
“Mother has it,” Eschevan chimed in, scratching his ruffled hair. “So, it didn’t come out as a much surprise to us. However, our mother despises it and has warned Tessia to try her hand in Artificer class or something. Says bardic mages belong to the brothel. Not that we care, anyway.”
“Can’t cure stupidity, can we?” Byrak shrugged with a chuckle till he realized he had spoken out his mind. “I mean-”
Escheven laughed, Tessia joining him with a giggle. “We know your true nature, so you don’t need to act like a noble. Just a matter of time till Lady Laura learns that ideal brother is just a hooligan in a noble’s robe.”
Byrak creased his brows and turned toward Laura. “Don’t listen to their nonsense.”
“The final item of the day,” the auctioneer had regained his enthusiasm after a short break, “is the legendary Scepter of Eternal Shadows! A relic that has whispered through the annals of time, it has emerged from the shadows to grace this auction block today. Forged from the black obsidian of the tainted lands, decked with the gem of unquenched soul, this is a true testament to the unrivaled necromancers of the past. Legend says it has amassed an army of undead, toppling an entire kingdom, laying the lands barren, and eating the lingering souls of dead people left in the wake. The bidding begins now!”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“A thousand gold coins,” an old man opposite them said. He was decked in a ornate robe and glittering gems all over his fingers. His white beard hung long and reached his chest, the thinning hair speaking more of his age than experience.
Laura knew who the man was. She tried to remember the memories associated with the man but could recall none.
“There goes the old bast-” Byrak cleared his throat, “noble. Lord Yyk is so obvious with his intentions. Hasn’t anyone seen through his ploy yet?”
“They’ll just throw the brack waters on each other after the deed’s done,” Escheven sighed. “That’s what the old officials do in the court most often.”
“Thousand five hundred coins!” A man from the floor above them shouted.
“Thousand five hundred coins!” The auctioneer shouted amidst the gasps of the crowd.
“Two thousand!” Yyk’s servant continued the bid for him.
“Two thousand five hundred.” the prince’s entourage quoted.
“Five thousand coins,” Yyk said, his voice ringing clear in the hall.
Laura peered at the crowd below, wondering why they had all gone silent. Was it such a huge amount?
Jultan’s party paused before raising the bar again. The two-and-fro exchange continued until the prince hit sky-high fourteen thousand coins.
Laura pulled her brother’s tunic, realizing that the prince couldn’t go higher. That was a pitiful amount for a prince of his standing, but she didn’t know why he couldn’t bid more now.
“Fifteen thousand gold coins,” Byrak said, his voice sending another wave of silence, followed by cheers in the crowd.
“Fifteen thousand! Fifteen thousand!” The auctioneer shouted, starting his countdown. “Sceptre of Eternal Shadows belongs to the rich young lad!”
Laura hid behind her brother as she noticed stares from Yyk’s entourage. They walked toward them, the rest of the nobles making their way for the esteemed noble of the kingdom.
“And who might you be, young man?” Yyk asked, his hands crossed behind his back. Sterlon was beside him, his eyes failing to conceal evident hatred.
“Byrak Valecrest, the firstborn of Valecrest nobility, greets you, Lord Yyk,” Byrak bowed politely. “How may I be of service to you?”
“Are you a necromancer?” Lord Yyk asked, his eyes pausing at Laura. She scuttled behind Byrak and watched his face vigilantly. She clearly remembered the features, but her memories were too blurry to recall their memorable encounter.
“I just like collecting rare artifacts, my lord,” Byrak said casually. The tone didn’t sit well with the old man, and he took a step closer, his eyes cold.
“Why not collect the rest? Why wait for this particular artifact?” Yyk stared into his eyes.
“I can’t do this,” Byrak laughed, taking a step back. “I don’t need some old geezer telling me what to buy and whatnot. If I fancy something, I’ll take it. I got enough copper in my stash to afford something puny like this.”
Laura glanced at her brother, flabbergasted. After teaching her all the right etiquette, he broke it like it was his second nature. She saw Escheven rubbing his temples and the usual flamboyant Tessia in silence beside him. Perhaps her brother had made a mistake.
“This is not your barracks, young man,” Yyk said, his hands clutching Byrak’s arms. “People with loud mouths die young, they say, and those with unrestrained mein die miserably. Which one are you?”
Byrak slapped his hand away, his lips curved upwards to a menacing grin. “Don’t threaten me with one leg in the grave, old man,” Byrak said, almost touching his forehead against his. “A slip of a finger, and I might send you tumbling down the stairs.”
“Impudent!” Sterlon shouted and moved forward to grab Byrak.
Lord Yyk raised his hand and coldly regarded Byrak for a while. “You should learn the ways of the capital,” he said, turning around, “if you want to enter the officialdom and survive there.”
When they had cleared their view, Escheven held Byrak by his shoulders. “Do you want to push me in the ditches so fast?”
“He isn’t spineless like you, brother,” Tessia pushed him away. “A befitting fiance for a woman of my standing.”
Laura watched the fluttering conversation between them when she realized why she remembered the man’s face so vividly.
[Memory Unlocked: Troublesome brother]
[Memory loss: Cured 3%]
The woman in her memories was becoming more vivid. She was sitting before people dressed in similar clothes, tables separating them. There were iron railings, people trapped within, most sprawled on the floor, having a nap. A man was seated on the chair beside her, his lips moving, answering the questions of the man before them. She clutched her head, trying to get a better picture of memories, but all she remembered was that the man was the woman’s brother.
Who was she?
The question plagued her, and she feared the answers more than anything.