The next day, roughly three hours after noon, Trader and Morgan were working away in the warehouse laboratory. The symbiote was brewing a large pot of healing elixir as the first product to sell. This potion was always in demand due to its versatility, and especially wanted by hunters who risked their lives fighting creatures in the forest.

Her apprentice, on the other hand, was mixing ingredients and placing them in the athanor for the next batch of gunpowder. They mostly did the non-magical steps of the process. While Morgan was learning fast, Trader didn't trust them yet to operate the furnace unsupervised. Doubly so when explosives were concerned.

Just as Trader was starting to pour the orange brew into separate vials, the doors to the lab swung open with a kick.

"I got it!" Shouted Karrel, quickly walking up to the alien alchemist.

Slightly frustrated by almost spilling the potion, Trader slowly put everything on the table and turned to him. "Yes? What did you get?"

"A new version of the hand gun! Look!" He proudly presented his new device.

The main change was the chamber. Where there would be the chamber, instead there was a large cylinder that made the weapon much bulkier than previous models. Before Trader could ask, the artificer started explaining excitedly.

"Okay, so one shot, then reloading would be too slow in an actual fight, so I had to do something about it. Any solution I could think of would require unreasonable amounts of precision, but this morning, I had an epiphany. I couldn't go around directly loading the bullet into the chamber, so I will just make more chambers. Now, it opens like this." He pushed a small button and bent the handle down, so the gun split in two. The cylinder contained five slots for ammunition.

"The cylinder also rotates using the knockback from the shot, instantly feeding the next bullet into place. The same mechanism also resets the hammer, so I can shoot as quickly as I can pull the trigger. Until I empty the thing, of course." He closed the gun and laid it on the table.

"You made it… today." She looked at the weapon, impressed. The first prototype of the weapon took three days to create. And fell apart nearly instantly.

"I made two, actually. I already had the forms for most of the parts, so making the cylinder took the most work. I ran over as soon as I finished it." He took a step and swayed a bit. "Goddess, I'm hungry. You got any food here?" He asked, sitting on the nearest chair.

"Morgan, can you get Karrel the leftovers from yesterday?" Trader requested.

"Sure thing, boss!" The goblin saluted, and ran to the side room.

"I always wondered." The parasite turned to Karrel. "When you curse, you say 《oh Goddess.》 Which goddess are you referring to?"

"Heh. My father prayed every day to Rydva, the old goddess of the sun. I'm not that big on faith, but he rubbed off on me it, seems." He smiled, remembering his parents. He still missed them sometimes. "So yeah, it's Rydva. Why?"

"Ever since the first conversation with the Archivist, I'm worried that some lingering presence of that goddess still exists. It assures me it's impossible, but you know. Paranoia. And that thing about old gods I said… It feels like I have a few pages of a whole book, and I can't tell how they fit together." She sighed and put the worries to the side for now. "Anyway. I've perfected the gunpowder recipe. It packs a punch, so hopefully your new toy can handle it. We'll test that later, though. It's been a few days, what's up?"

Morgan chose that moment to return with food for Karrel. The three chatted lightheartedly for a while. Karrel talked about his inventive block, and congratulated Morgan on their progress in alchemy. The goblin in question pelted him with questions regarding different materials he used, and he in turn learned how the young apprentice escaped his home in Drexul, a small town north of the capital, and wandered the empire, doing odd jobs in search of someone willing to teach them alchemy. They were preparing to leave Tiamarr city when Isabella acquainted them with Trader.

"How'd you get into alchemy in the first place?" The Smith asked.

"Well…" the green face of the apprentice took on a pink blush. "You know the stereotype, that goblins are thieves? My parents fit that, unfortunately. They were teaching me how to pick locks, when I asked 《can't you just melt it with acid?》 They called me an idiot, because that would leave too much evidence. But then they took me on a heist, and there was a warded safe. Fortune had it, we were raiding an alchemist's house. So mom was trying to pick the lock, but it kept breaking her picks. I looked around, found some acid, and burned a hole in the safe."

"So did you get the money?" Karrel asked, engaged in the story.

"The acid burned through the contents." They frowned as Karrel laughed. "There was a couple gold coins, though, so it wasn't all for nothing. But I decided I wanted to learn more about alchemy. Mom and dad said it was a waste of time, we argued, and I ran away."

"I get it." The smith said seriously. "I personally followed my father's footsteps, but my mother wanted my sis to be a tailor. Emma hated it. Always said it was boring, just sitting on her ass all day fiddling with strings. They argued constantly. She even tried to learn smithing, like me, but that wasn't for her either. She ran away from home. We were worried sick, she didn't come back for months. Now, twelve years later, she's the best damn hunter in the duchy. Emma the Tempest, they call her."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"She's your sister?!" Morgan's eyes went wide. "She once took out a whole flock of ice-shooting ravens that attacked my town! She's awesome! Do you think I could meet her?"

"She comes by for a few days every Cleanup Month for equipment maintenance, so I'll give you a heads-up when I see her."

"Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Morgan was jumping with excitement.

"What's Cleanup Month?" Trader asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

"I'm constantly fascinated by what you do and don't know." He shook his head with a grin. "People use magic all the time, especially in big cities like Tiamarr. So there is lots of ambient mana around. And what happens when there's lots of ambient mana of different flavours?"

"Wild magic." She finished for him.

"Exactly. So, to prevent that, every two years there is a Cleanup Month. The empire sends a team with expensive mana-gathering tools, and they comb through the whole city to scrub it clean of all the magic residue. This way, there is no danger of a chaos burst in the city. There's a small issue, though. Since there is no mana around, magic items that gather it to function cease to work. So every artificer is legally required to offer maintenance services, regardless of their clientele. Even me." Karrel started to get worked up. "In three months I'm gonna be swamped with requests for the simplest fixes that they could perform themselves. For gods' sakes, anyone can charge a mana crystal, why do they come to me? I have better shit to do!"

"At least it's guaranteed work?" Morgan pointed out.

"The rates are fixed during Cleanup Month, so I get much less than what I would charge usually. And there's no time for regular work, so it's forty days of sixteen hour workdays for one-fifth of what I should be earning."

"You can always give me a small cut if you want help." Trader suggested, then changed the topic. "Did you talk with Luci, by any chance?"

"I did. She said to let you know there's a ball in the town hall in two weeks. Every noble is invited, so you should attend, too."

"Alright. I'll finally have a reason to wear that dress I bought. For everyday work it's just more convenient to use fake clothes or this."

She gestured to her outfit. The alchemist was wearing a brown leather jacket and matching pants, with a grey apron on top for obvious reasons.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the still-open doors.

"Excuse me? The sign says you heal people. Is that right?"

Trader stood up and quickly made her way to the entrance.

"Yes, I'm a licensed healer. What can I do for you?"

Her first client was a tall woman with pointy ears and long black hair. She wore a dark green robe that obscured her silhouette. Her eyes were golden and reflected light like a cat's eyes would.

"I think I've been poisoned." She pointed to a hole in her robe that revealed a deep wound on her torso. Blood was steadily pouring out. Then she stumbled forward.

"Oh dear." Trader caught her and immediately began weaving a spell to close the hole in the elf's body. "Come inside, quickly. Morgan! Prepare a bed for the patient!"

Soon, the eleven woman was laying in the side room, her stomach no longer bleeding but still tender.

"So, what poisoned you?"

"This." The woman slowly reached into her robe and took out a bloodied dagger. It smelled of enchantment magic. She couldn't decipher what the enchantment did, but luckily there was someone who could.

"Those runes are weird." Karrel commented. "It's… dwarven work, I think. They don't teach those in most schools, the dwarves don't like sharing their secrets. But yes, this is toxic. Not poison, though. The dagger conjures mercury."

"Okay, that's manageable. I'll just keep her stable until the conjuration ends."

"That's gonna take a few days. The dagger was charged with a lot of mana, especially for a disposable weapon like a thrown dagger. Someone spent a lot of money to make sure she would die." He explained.

"Shit." Trader turned to the patient in question. "Alright, there are a couple rules here. Rule number one: never lie to me. I'm not a snitch, and if I'm working with false information, you could die or worse. Rule number two: you do what I tell you to do, and don't do what I forbid you to do. Otherwise my treatment won't be effective. And rule number three: you will pay after you are healthy enough to leave, as judged by me. If you don't have money, we will work something out, so don't worry for now."

The healer reached out her hand. "Do you agree? Or are you going to find someone else? I'm the only healer in this district, so you might not make it, though."

"I-" the elf coughed. "I agree." She took Trader's hand and squeezed weakly.

"Alright then." Trader laid a hand on the elf's shoulder and cast a spell to stabilise her. "What's your name?"

"I'm Ja-" she stopped herself. "You told me not to lie. I'm Cynthia."

"Nice to meet you, Cynthia. Tell me Cynthia, what happened? I assume someone attacked you?"

"I… you really won't tell anyone?" She asked. Her eyes were pleading.

"I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you leave this place healthy and free. Whatever embarrassing secrets or crimes you will reveal won't leave this building. This is a safe place." Trader put as much warmth as she could into her voice.

Cynthia took a deep breath. "I didn't sleep tonight."

Trader patiently waited to hear more, but her patient raised an eyebrow when she realized the healer didn't understand the subtext.

"You're not actually an elf, are you?" Cynthia asked, looking at Trader's own pointy ears.

The symbiote smiled. "No, I'm not. But it's more convenient for people to assume I am than to explain the truth. My kind is rare, and I come from far away."

The elf nodded in understanding. "Elves were created by the fae." She explained. "They wanted to have a foothold on Eimaz. We were their third try, the successful one. Every full moon, like yesterday, every elf gets possessed by a fae spirit."

"Oh dear…" Trader covered her mouth, thinking of the implications.

Fae were not malicious, for the most part. They usually spend their time on fun and mischief. The problem is, they don't view and experience many things as mortals do. Including death. Sometimes a pixie's idea of a "prank" is to feed the parents their children.

Cynthia saw Trader's eyes widen. "So you understand. We usually use drugs or potions to force unconsciousness, but I'm… broke. I ran out. And the fae that possessed me tried to kill a noble. They failed, I regained control of my body at dawn, and fled. Or I thought I did. Someone threw this dagger at me just as I made my way home. I live nearby, and remembered you opened recently. I'm glad you did."

"Why did they try to assassinate you? If they're a noble, can't they just send guards after you?" She half-asked, half wondered to herself.

"When I broke into their manor I saw something I shouldn't have."

"Yes?"

"There was a vampiric ritual taking place."