The taste of roasted lamb and spiced vegetables still lingered on my tongue as we climbed the stairs back to our room. Below us, the common room’s lively chatter had softened to a low murmur, the Carmine girl’s dramatic outburst already fading into just another tavern story.
Zephyr closed the door behind us with a soft click, the sound sealing us away from prying ears.
The room was nothing fancy – just two beds, a washbasin, and a window looking out onto the city, which was already twinkling with streetlights. But it was private, and wonderfully warm. That was really all we needed.
I settled onto my bed, facing him directly, and reached inside my jacket. My fingers closed around a small storage pouch, which I then tossed his way.
Zephyr snagged it effortlessly, raising one eyebrow in question.
"Might be useful on your travels," I said.
He loosened the drawstring, peering inside. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he schooled it back into neutrality.
"Don’t worry," I added, leaning back on my palms. "It’s nothing extravagant. Just a few potions, clothes for different climates. You know, basic necessities."
He nodded, then reached into his storage ring and produced a pouch of his own and tossed it to me.
I easily caught it as well, but didn’t bother checking it since I already had a hunch what it held.
Zephyr exhaled through his nose. "Plans and training materials for the next month."
I nodded in understanding.
"Note any abnormalities or difficulties," he continued in his usual speech style. "We’ll review them when we meet again."
His gaze sharpened, and for the first time, there was an edge to his tone. "Don’t rush the training. And don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger."
We held each other’s gaze for a moment before both of us leaned back, settling into cross-legged meditation postures.
Zephyr echoed the word.
Silence settled over the room, broken only by the distant murmur of the inn below. I closed my eyes, letting my breathing slow.
Zephyr’s question cut through the quiet. My eyes remained closed.
"...No, not really." I said after a pause.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. The current me didn’t know her at all.
"...I think she might have studied at the same academy I did," I added after pondering a bit. "Before I transferred."
A beat of silence. Then, just barely audible:
Zephyr said nothing else.
I exhaled slowly and let myself sink deeper into meditation, pushing aside the lingering questions.
Soon, the familiar rhythm of my Infinite Loop enveloped me, and I succumbed to its calming flow, leaving only a vigilant sliver of my consciousness on guard.
The morning sun cast long shadows across Derier’s streets as I stood at the fourth city gate, watching Zephyr, Aeron, and Professor Harken prepare to depart. The professor adjusted his spectacles, offering one last smile.
"Remember, young man," Harken said, "should your travels bring you near the Academy, don’t hesitate to visit. We’d be glad to host you."
I nodded. "I’ll stop by if I get the chance."
"See you again... old friend." Aeron gave me a firm clap on the shoulder, while Zephyr simply met my gaze, silent but knowing.
I raised a hand in farewell. "Safe travels."
With that, they turned and disappeared into the flow of merchants and travelers passing through the gates.
Now left alone, I adjusted the monocle over my eye, its enhanced vision already scanning the bustling streets for signs of apothecaries and alchemy shops.
My goal was clear: find medicine or treasures capable of healing the baron and baroness and refill my supplies along with it.
I started with the more common establishments, slipping into cramped stores lined with jars of dried herbs and bottled tinctures.
The shopkeepers were helpful, but their wares were disappointingly mundane, good for fevers and ordinary wounds, but nothing that could mend fractured meridians or a damaged mind.
Still, I purchased a few basic restorative tonics. I didn’t want to waste my points on them in the system shop.
Next, I sought out the alchemists. Their shops smelled of strange odors and simmering elixirs.
The first two places yielded similar results, decent quality, but not strong enough. I haggled anyway, securing a few vials of concentrated essence. Useful, but not what I needed.
The final shop was tucked away in a quieter corner of the city, its sign weathered but its door well-kept. Inside, the scent of aged parchment and rare herbs clung to the air. An old man with a long, silver-streaked beard looked up from a ledger as I entered.
"Looking for something, young man?" he asked, his voice gravelly but sharp.
I didn’t waste time. "Strong medicine or treasures — capable of treating deep internal injuries and spiritual instability."
The old man’s eyebrows rose. He stroked his beard thoughtfully before muttering, "Those are indeed rare... and costly."
A pause. Then, reluctantly, he added, "I might have something for the internal injuries. But the spiritual side... that’s a lot harder."
My pulse quickened. "Can you show it to me?"
"Of course, wait just a moment."
He disappeared into the back room, returning moments later with a small, intricately carved wooden box. Inside rested a single, thumb-sized crystal, a Storm Bloom Essence, distilled from a flower that grew only in the most treacherous parts of the Hollowlands.
My monocle confirmed its authenticity. The potency was high, though not perfect. Still, it was the best I’d found so far.
"I’ll take it," I said without hesitation.
The old man chuckled. "I haven’t even named the price yet."
I met his gaze. "Then name it."
The old man’s fingers paused over the wooden box, his sharp eyes studying me. "Sixty thousand," he said, his voice firm.
Reaching into my cloak, I retrieved six small pouches and placed them on the counter in a neat row. "Ten thousand each."
The old man’s lips twitched slightly at the speed of my response, but he made no move to count the coins; the weight alone was proof enough.
Then I added, "I won’t haggle. But in exchange, I want information about the other part, spiritual remedies. I have a feeling you know something."
His hand, which had been reaching for the pouches, stilled.
For a long moment, he simply stared at me, as if weighing my worthiness or my sincerity. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and nodded.