Yuki’s footsteps were deliberate, a steady rhythm amidst the chaotic symphony of the marketpce. The air pulsed with life—loud bartering calls from merchants, the metallic cng of hammers on anvils, the occasional sharp bark of ughter, and the distant bleat of livestock. Voices yered over one another, creating a tapestry of sound, yet none of it seemed to penetrate the calm detachment that shrouded her. Her movements were precise and calcuted, her gaze darting from one stall to another as she wove through the crowd with an ease born of both confidence and practice.

  The marketpce itself was a sprawling byrinth of colors and scents, lined with wooden stalls and carts bursting with goods. Richly dyed fabrics fluttered like banners in the breeze, their jewel tones catching the sunlight. The pungent aroma of spices mingled with the sweetness of baked pastries, creating a heady mix that clung to the air. Children dashed between adults, their ughter ringing out as they chased each other around barrels and crates. Merchants stood on raised ptforms, shouting their wares, their voices carrying above the din.

  Yuki moved through it all with an impassive expression, her sharp eyes taking in the details of her surroundings. She wasn’t here for pleasure or necessity—her interest in the marketpce was fleeting, more curiosity than need. At a weapons stall, her hand brushed over the cool steel of a finely honed bde. She lifted it briefly, testing its weight in her palm. The bance was fwless, and her fingers itched with the memory of combat, but she set the bde down without comment. The bcksmith, a thickset man with a soot-streaked apron, eyed her warily before nodding in acknowledgment as she walked away.

  The armor stall was her next stop. Rows of polished breastptes and intricate leather jerkins gleamed in the sunlight, their craftsmanship evident. Yuki traced a finger along the etched design of a shoulder guard, appreciating the care it must have taken to craft such a piece. Still, none of it resonated with her beyond a surface-level admiration. Her thoughts were elsewhere—always elsewhere.

  She paused at a food stand, the smell of grilled skewers drawing her attention. The vendor was a rotund man with a jovial smile, flipping meat over an open fme. Yuki handed over a few coins and took one of the skewers, the wood warm against her fingers. She bit into the meat without ceremony, chewing absently as her mind drifted. Lirien’s face surfaced unbidden—a vivid memory of emerald eyes shimmering with warmth and determination. For a fleeting moment, a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Yuki’s lips, but it was gone as quickly as it came, swallowed by the weight of her introspection.

  Her wandering eventually brought her to a modest jewelry stall tucked between more prominent shops. The dispy was unassuming but neatly arranged: neckces, rings, and bracelets glimmered under the sunlight. Yuki’s eyes scanned the wares with mild disinterest until something caught her attention—a small pendant featuring an emerald gemstone. Its green hues mirrored the glow of Lirien’s eyes, and Yuki found herself reaching for it before she even realized what she was doing. The pendant’s surface was smooth and cool to the touch, grounding in a way that surprised her.

  “How much for this?” she asked, her voice steady and even.

  The shopkeeper, an older man with wiry gray hair and sharp eyes, looked up from his stool. His gaze flicked to the pendant and back to her. “That one? Thirty silvers,” he said, his tone cautious.

  Yuki didn’t hesitate, handing over the coins without a word. As the shopkeeper wrapped the pendant in a square of cloth, she leaned forward slightly, her expression inscrutable. “Where do you get your pieces?”

  The man raised an eyebrow, his fingers pausing in their task. “Depends. Most come from traders passing through, but some of the better stones—like that one—come from beyond the mountains. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” Yuki replied, slipping the wrapped pendant into her satchel. After a pause, she added, “Do you know of any pces in this town where someone might learn about… rare things? Information, artifacts, the system?”

  The shopkeeper scratched his chin, his sharp eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You might try the library. It’s in the eastern district, though it’s not as grand as it once was. The schor there keeps a collection of old texts—some on magic and other strange topics. If it’s knowledge you’re after, that’s where I’d go.”

  Yuki nodded once, curtly. “Thank you.”

  The noise of the marketpce faded as Yuki left its confines, heading toward the eastern district. The streets here were quieter, the buildings older. The sounds of cttering carts and cheerful voices were repced by the soft rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant murmur of water from a nearby fountain. The air felt cooler, less burdened by the press of bodies and the heat of bustling activity. Yuki’s thoughts turned inward, her fingers brushing the edge of her satchel where the pendant y hidden. There was no logical reason for her to feel attached to such an object, but she wanted a reminder of Lirien.

  The library loomed ahead, a building of weathered stone and fading grandeur. Vines crept along its walls, their green tendrils weaving into cracks and crevices. The tall iron-wrought nterns fnking the entrance had seen better days, their gss panes clouded with age. Yuki pushed open the heavy wooden door, the hinges groaning softly in protest. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of parchment and dust, a quiet testament to the building’s age and purpose.

  Rows of shelves stretched into the shadows, their contents an eclectic mix of well-worn tomes and newer volumes. Light filtered through high, arched windows, casting dappled patterns on the stone floor. The atmosphere was one of hushed reverence, broken only by the faint rustle of pages and the occasional creak of a floorboard.

  Pushing the door open, Yuki stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, ink, and dust. Rows of towering shelves stretched into the distance, filled with tomes of varying sizes, their spines inid with faded lettering. The occasional flicker of light from enchanted orbs overhead illuminated the dim interior, casting long shadows across the floor. Walking towards a shelf Yuki picked a book and frowned when she couldn't read it. She half expected this to happen and half wished this world wrote in Japanese because they seemed to speak it. So she sighed and searched for anyone that could help her out after all she had a lot of questions and needed answers.

  Kiera_Yanagi