Chapter Seventeen: But Wait, There's More

  Jace blinked, the information settling into his mind as if he had spent hours studying. He felt a rush of understanding, the mechanics and nuances of the game world now clear in his head.

  “Whoa,” he said, looking up at Dex and Ell. “That was... intense.”

  Alice grinned. “Told you it was helpful.”

  Ell glanced at Jace and said, “Now that you are sorted, Dex and I have to run some personal errands real quick. You’ll be fine, right?”

  Jace nodded.

  “One second.” Ell disappeared, returning a minute later with another Directly stone. She passed it to Jace. “Here. Meet us at the entrance in fifteen minutes. Just think ‘entrance’ and start walking.” Without another word, Ell and Dex slipped away into the street. Alice chose this time to go buy some personal items, leaving Jace to his lonesome.

  Jace wandered through the elegant streets, his eyes drifting from one opulent storefront to another. The elaborate displays were a feast for the senses, all glitz and charm. It was the kind of place where even the air felt expensive.

  He opened his book to the map tab. The small location dot flickered and glitched. “You are here. Calibrating. You are here. Never mind, you are nowhere,” the dot jumped erratically from one place to another before vanishing, clearly unable to function properly in the dense spatial magic of the shopping district. “Perfect,” he muttered, tucking the book away. “Just what I need - a map with commitment issues.”

  His mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, each one fighting for dominance. Thoughts of Alex, Hades, and a looming sense of unknown danger clashed and tangled in his mind. There were countless ways this could all go terribly wrong. The solitude haunted him. A thousand questions burned in his mind.

  Lost in thought, he absently fiddled with his Directly Stone. His fingers traced the smooth surface, the motion grounding him as his mind churned. In this world of elites and secrets, Jace felt like a mere pawn in a game he didn’t fully understand. And he hated feeling like a pawn.

  Gradually, the bustling crowd and vibrant shop windows around him began to fade, but Jace didn’t notice at first. It was subtle, like the slow dimming of lights before the main act of a show. When he finally looked up, the bright, opulent district had transformed into something darker. The colors were muted, the air colder, and the sense of wealth and luxury had been replaced by an unsettling stillness. It was as if the lively shopping district had slipped away, to be replaced by its shadow.

  The once bustling street now lay eerily empty. No shoppers, no shops - only a single dark building looming ahead. It stood alone, a solitary spire twisting into the sky.

  The building was tall and narrow, its facade made of ancient, weathered stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Ivy clung to the walls like dark veins, and the windows were small, set high above the ground, their glass panes thick with grime. A wooden sign, illegible and precariously attached, swayed above the door, creaking softly in the whispering breeze. He felt inexplicably drawn to it, even as his instincts urged him to run. As if something was waiting… for him.

  The door itself was heavy, constructed of dark, weathered wood reinforced with iron bands. The knocker was a grotesque face, twisted in a perpetual grimace, its eyes following Jace as he approached. The face looked like a tortured soul, a once-noble dryad with hollow eyes and a mouth frozen in a silent scream, as if eternally trapped in its metallic prison. The air around the building was thick with the scent of old, damp wood and something else - something ancient and indefinable.

  Feeling a strange pull, Jace reached out but before he could touch the handle, the door creaked open. Groaning wood echoed through the silence as he entered. Shelves sagged under the weight of peculiar artifacts. Ancient tomes with cracked spines, odd trinkets glimmering in the low light, and jars filled with substances he couldn’t identify lined the walls.

  The dim glow from lanterns cast shadows that danced across the room, giving life to the inanimate objects. The room, like the street outside, was silent except for his footsteps.

  “Hello?” Jace called out. “Anyone here?”

  The wind echoed outside as if in response.

  He made his way toward what he felt must be the back of the shop, passing shelves cluttered with a bizarre assortment of items. Delicate glass vials filled with strange, shimmering liquids and tarnished trinkets. A brass sundial, intricate and arcane, sat among them, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly. Though it made little sense, as there was no sun present in the room, a shadow moved across the sundial. It lacked hours or traditional markings of time, instead displaying strange symbols. As Jace leaned closer, the shadow line moved, flickering between two images - one, a skeletal figure with a scythe, hanging upside down, and the other, a white skull wreathed in flames.

  Next to the sundial, on a mostly empty shelf, sat a lone white ring.

  The ring was exquisite, crafted from a bone-like metal in the design of a raven wrapping its wings around itself. Each feather was intricately detailed, glinting in the dim light. The head of the raven was turned to the side, its eye a deep, blood-red ruby that seemed to pulse with its own inner light.

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  Jace wasn’t into jewelry much in real life, but something about this ring captivated him. The craftsmanship was astonishing; every feather meticulously carved, the raven’s body crafted with perfect symmetry.

  The ruby eye caught the light. Jace reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. The moment he touched it, a shiver ran down his spine, and he knew this was no ordinary piece of jewelry.

  He picked it up, feeling its weight in his hand. The raven seemed almost alive, the ruby eye watching him, judging him. Jace slipped it onto his finger, the metal cool against his skin. The ring fit perfectly, as if it had been made for him.

  A voice startled Jace from his reverie. “Ah, you’ve found your way to my humble establishment,” it said. Jace quickly removed the ring and set it back on the shelf. The voice belonged to the shopkeeper, a gaunt figure whose face was etched with lines of experience and calculation. His thin lips curled into a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

  “This shop houses items from all over the world,” the shopkeeper continued, his voice laced with a cruel sense of humor. “Artifacts of immense power and significance, each with a story to tell.”

  Jace’s eyes fell back to the ring, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What about this ring?” He tried to sound casual.

  “Oh, that ring?” The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow. “I thought I had lost that one. Haven’t seen it in a while. It had lost hope of finding the right buyer.” He spoke as if the ring were alive, capable of feelings and desires. “Funny that you would want that ring.”

  “Is it magic?” Jace asked.

  “It is, though, exactly what type of magic, I cannot say. Some have called it a key, others a tool, and some have even called it a weapon. It was said to have been pulled from the River Styx.” Jace remembered the Styx as part of the Underworld. Perhaps that was why it felt like it was calling out to him. Jace picked it up again.

  “Well, if it fits my deity, then I should probably get it,” Jace said, trying to justify his desire. “How much is it?”

  The shopkeeper laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. “Pricing? I don’t accept University money. Pah, little rich kids cannot afford my shop. But you, you seem like you just might be able to.”

  Jace’s hope deflated. “I don’t have any gold,” he admitted.

  “Oh boy, I don’t accept gold either,” the shopkeeper replied, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Only trades.”

  Jace frowned, considering the implications. “What kind of a trade?”

  The shopkeeper’s smile widened. “Hmm, given the value of this ring, how about a favor? Not now, but sometime in the future. I promise it will be something you can easily give and will only be of equivalent value to the ring.”

  Jace thought long and hard, weighing the potential risks and rewards. The ring felt right, like a piece of his destiny, but a favor for this enigmatic shopkeeper? It was a gamble.

  “You have my word,” the shopkeeper said, sensing Jace’s hesitation. “Nothing beyond the value of the ring and nothing that you cannot easily give.”

  Just as Jace felt like the man was about to say, “but wait, there’s more,” a prompt appeared.

  Tinker’s Pact

  You are being offered a Blood Pact by a mysterious old shopkeeper. He has presented you with a deal that seems too good to pass up:

  A magic ring of unknown type, rank, and power. In exchange, you agree to grant him one favor in the future of equal value and within your power to give.

  Go ahead. Make a vaguely worded deal with a complete stranger. What could possibly go wrong?

  Accept | Reject

  This is probably a terrible idea, Jace thought, but the warmth spread, tingling at his fingertips.

  Jace stared at the ring, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow, casting fleeting patterns across the shop walls. He felt a delicate warmth radiating from the it, an elusive power just out of reach. It thread through his thoughts, beckoning him.

  “I’m really not sure that I should...” Jace began.

  “I’ll throw in a free wooden ring box.”

  “Deal.”

  And like that, a bargain was made.

  The shopkeeper’s movements were quick, almost too quick. Before Jace could even flinch, a needle pricked his finger. Blood welled up, and in the blink of an eye, the shopkeeper had done the same to himself. Their blood mingled, and a flash of light sparked between them, accompanied by a sudden, bone-chilling gust of air. The shop fell silent, the kind of silence that clings to your skin.

  The shopkeeper’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed a bit too long. He reached beneath the counter, producing a box made of wood stained a deep, blood-red. With a deliberate slowness, he handed the box to Jace. The moment Jace slipped the ring onto his finger, he felt it - a subtle hum of magic thrumming beneath his skin like a heartbeat out of sync.

  Jace got an immediate feeling of regret.

  “Good luck,” the shopkeeper said with a smile, though his voice carried a tone of condolence.

  Jace emerged from the shop, his mind in a fog. How long had he been inside? As he walked, he checked over his recent notifications.

  Congratulations, I guess.

  You have made your first Blood Pact.

  Really diving in headfirst, aren’t you?

  Status Update

  You have impressed a being of great power.

  Update: Attribute Change

  +1 to Charisma.

  -1 to Karmic Balance.

  Was his lowered Wisdom affecting his choices? He had to get his Classless Debuff removed.

  Checking the time, he realized he was already late. He grabbed the Directly Stone and thought, “Entrance,” as he jogged forward.

  In moments, he found himself standing by Dex and Ell. “What took you so long?” Ell asked. “Eh, no time, we’re going to be late,” she added quickly. “We gotta get to our first class. It’s Affinities with Professor Orion. All four of us have it, and Alice went ahead to make sure we had good seats. It’s over by the stables on the east side of the campus.”

  Jace, Dex, and Ell walked quickly together, the cool breeze ruffling their robes. Dex glanced at Jace, curiosity etched on his face. “Where were you, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Jace hesitated, then shrugged. “Just exploring,” he said, his voice distant. “Got a bit lost in thought.”

  Dex raised an eyebrow but let it slide. “Alright, keep your secrets.”

  They walked in companionable silence. The scent of hay and the sound of horses neighing grew stronger as they approached the stables.