The capital was alive from the moment the sun crested the rooftops. Bells rang somewhere in the distance, calling merchants to their stalls. Horses clattered against cobblestones, weaving through carts laden with cloth, fruit, and spices. The air carried a dozen scents at once — roasted nuts, fresh bread, smoke from street-cook fires, and the faint tang of iron from blacksmith forges.
Rael stretched his arms wide as the three of them stepped out from the inn. "Now this is more like it. The beating heart of civilization. You feel that? Energy in the air!"
"It's just noise," Sela muttered, pulling her cloak tighter against the morning chill.
Nadia walked a few steps behind, her eyes wandering over the bustling streets. She didn't say much, but there was a small, appreciative smile tugging at her lips. "It's… busy. In a good way."
They passed by a baker's stall where a boy barely taller than the counter was shouting out prices for steaming loaves. Rael slowed down, sniffing dramatically. "Ohh, do you smell that? That's luxury, right there."
"You're not buying bread," Sela warned.
Rael patted his belt where his coin pouch should've been. "Relax. I wouldn't. Besides, we've got sixty-five gold still."
"Sixty-three," Sela corrected sharply.
Rael blinked. "What?"
"You spent two more on ale last night. Don't think I didn't notice."
He groaned. "Come on, Sela. That ale was… well, okay, it was terrible. But it looked good when they brought it out!"
Nadia stifled a laugh. "You're hopeless."
They wove deeper into the capital's main square, where street performers had already gathered small crowds. A man on stilts waved his arms dramatically while juggling knives, earning scattered applause. Nearby, a woman sang ballads with a lute, her voice carrying clear over the din. Children darted between legs, chasing each other with sticks.
Rael stopped at the knife juggler, eyes gleaming. "Now that's a sword I could use."
"That's not a sword," Sela said flatly.
"Well, not yet. But imagine me with those moves." He mimicked juggling with invisible knives, immediately dropping one and nearly elbowing Nadia in the face.
She stepped back, unimpressed. "You'd cut off your fingers."
"Worth it if it looks cool," he argued.
Sela rubbed her forehead. "I'm surrounded by fools."
They walked on, pausing at a smithy where the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal echoed out into the street. Rael pressed close to the display racks, eyes sparkling. "Sela, Sela, look at this one!" He pointed to a greatsword nearly as tall as he was. Its blade gleamed silver-blue in the light.
"You can't even lift that," Sela said without glancing at it.
"Can too."
"Try."
Rael reached out and wrapped his hands around the hilt, grunting as he heaved. The blade didn't move an inch. His arms trembled as he strained, face turning red. Finally, he gave up and leaned against the weapon stand, panting.
"See?" Sela said dryly.
"Okay, fine, maybe not that one," Rael admitted. "But the style! Imagine me walking into battle with something like this strapped to my back."
"You'd fall over backwards," Nadia muttered with a grin.
They moved again, this time toward the market district where rows of colorful tents stretched like a patchwork quilt across the plaza. Sela naturally took the lead, scanning prices and muttering calculations under her breath every time Rael so much as looked at a vendor.
At one stall, Rael pointed to a glittering necklace. "That'd look good on you, Nadia."
Nadia blinked in surprise. "What?"
"You know, as, like, an accessory. To… distract enemies or something."
Sela shot him a look. "We're not wasting coin on shiny rocks."
"I wasn't buying it," Rael said defensively. "I was just saying it'd look nice."
Nadia looked away, cheeks faintly warm. "Thanks, I guess."
As the morning stretched toward noon, the three found themselves sitting on the edge of a fountain in one of the city's larger squares. The water glittered as children splashed their hands in it. Merchants barked deals, hawking roasted chestnuts, fabrics, and clay trinkets. The statue at the fountain's center — some long-forgotten hero — towered over them with a stern gaze.
Rael leaned back, arms spread wide across the stone edge. "Man, I could live here. All the food, all the people, all the—"
"All the ways to waste money," Sela interrupted.
He waved her off. "Details, details."
Nadia swirled her finger absently in the fountain water. Her expression was thoughtful, distant. "It's nice. But… don't you ever feel like crowds make it lonelier?"
Rael blinked at her. "What? How could being around this many people make you lonely?"
"Because they're all strangers," she said quietly.
That shut him up for a moment.
Sela shifted uncomfortably, her hand tightening over her knee. "We're not strangers."
"I know," Nadia said quickly, forcing a small smile. "I didn't mean it like that."
The silence lingered for a breath too long, so Rael clapped his hands loudly. "Alright! New topic. If we had money — like real money, none of this sixty-three gold scrap — what's the first thing you'd buy?"
Sela sighed. "A map that doesn't fall apart every time you fold it."
Rael frowned. "Lame."
Nadia tilted her head. "Probably a real bed. A soft one. With pillows that don't smell like straw."
"That's better," Rael said, nodding approvingly. "See, that's the right kind of answer. Me? Easy. A horse. A big, black stallion. I'd name him something epic. Like… Nightfang."
Sela gave him a flat look. "You can't even ride a horse."
"I'd learn!"
"Or you'd fall off and break your neck," Nadia added, stifling laughter.
"You two are no fun." Rael slouched dramatically, throwing his head back.
They sat for a while longer, talking about nothing and everything. The capital moved around them — vendors shouting, children laughing, guards marching in pairs. But beneath all the chatter, the same unspoken weight hung there, as it always did when the conversation drifted too close to Lif's absence.
And though none of them said his name, each felt the silence where it should have been.