Jacob made his way through the market with his sack of clothes, stepping lightly between groups of shoppers and merchants. He had decided to set off on his own after no one else came to the stall, and Arthur thought it was a good idea.
"Don't worry about me, this is about the 200th time I have run a stall here. You go and see if you can find someone interested in magical clothes or weapons."
He left the sword behind, but tucked the dagger into his waistband while it was in its sheath. 'I doubt anyone would attack me, but better safe than sorry I suppose . . . the sword is probably better off staying here for now . . .'
Thus, Jake took off on his own. He had picked out a spot near the edge of the square, just off the main road, where people could see the gear without getting trampled.
He tried calling out a few times.
"Enchanted clothes for sale. Light, warm, and self-cleaning."
Most people just glanced his way and kept walking. One woman gave a curious look, but when he explained what the clothes could do, she frowned and kept moving.
A younger man in traveling gear stopped and asked the price. When Jacob said a gold coin, the man snorted and muttered something under his breath as he walked away.
It went like that for a while. Some looked, but none of them bought anything.
Jacob sat down on a short stone wall and sighed.
'They don't believe me . . . even the ones who stopped to listen just think I am bluffing.'
He looked around at the richer folks wandering by in dyed cloaks and velvet gloves. Their eyes lingered on the sack, and he could see a few subtle reactions to the aura the clothes were giving off. They were definitely feeling something. One man even stopped short when he passed too close.
But none of them said anything.
Jacob stood up again, brushing dust off his pants.
'This has to be rare . . . Maybe regular people just don't make enchanted clothes around here . . . That would explain why no one believes me.'
He glanced back toward the area where Arthur had gone earlier and decided to walk that way. Maybe there was another place in the city for this kind of thing, somewhere that sold weapons or magical gear.
He started walking, weaving between wagons and food stalls.
Then he bumped into someone.
A young man with short black hair and a traveling cloak stopped mid-stride, blinking as he looked down at Jacob.
"Careful there," he said, voice neutral but sharp.
Jacob took a step back. "Sorry, I was careless."
The man tilted his head, then frowned.
"Your shirt, that bag, even those clothes. They're all enchanted."
Jacob narrowed his eyes. "You can tell just by looking?"
The man didn't answer at first. He studied Jacob carefully, eyes flicking over the seams of his clothes, the strap of the bag, even the soles of his boots.
"Did you steal those?" he asked, his tone now a little more serious.
Jacob frowned. "No. They're mine, I made them myself."
The man looked around quickly, then lowered his voice.
"If they're yours, that means you're either the apprentice of someone very talented, or you are walking around with stolen goods and you have no idea how dangerous that is."
Jacob stood his ground. "My dad taught me everything I know. He's the one who taught me enchanting."
The man's eyebrows rose. "Your dad?"
"Yeah," Jacob replied. "He said we come from a long line of enchanters. My great-great-grandpa left a lot of notes, and his son expanded on them greatly. We learned from those, and now we enchant all of our own items. I was even named after my great-grandpa."
As the man began to reply, he noticed the medallion around Jake's neck for the first time.
That made the man pause. His entire demeanor changed. Instead of suspicion, he now looked intrigued.
"You're telling me someone in your family rediscovered enchantment patterns on their own? Without a master?"
Jacob shrugged. "I guess so. We live in Ruvka Village, and he passed it all down in journals and notes."
The man let out a surprised whistle. "That would make him a genius . . . or taken with madness. But probably both."
He stepped a little closer.
"Most enchanters I've heard of hide their work. They don't leave trails or share patterns. Those are too valuable . . . too dangerous to their own business. But the flow in your clothes . . . it's basically hidden. I can feel the magic, but I can't see the marks. Not clearly, at least. And that's rare around these parts."
Jacob tilted his head. "You said you could tell just by being near?"
"Not exactly. I could feel the flow of magic. It's subtle, but strong. And the fact that I can't tell what the enchantments do is even more unusual. There are sorcerers who pay fortunes to hide enchantments like that."
Jacob nodded slowly, putting the pieces together.
'That must be why no one believes me. Normal enchanted clothes would show the runes clearly, but ours don't.'
"I'm heading to see my dad now," Jacob said. "He's nearby, but I'd like to ask him first before introducing you."
The man nodded. "Of course. Most enchanters are a little . . . particular."
Jacob turned and started walking toward the edge of the market square, where Arthur had last been.
The man followed, staying a step behind.
As they passed a stall with spices, he spoke again. "May I see one of the garments? Just to get a feel for the enchantment."
Jacob opened the sack and handed over a folded tunic.
The man rubbed the fabric between his fingers, then pressed his hand flat across the front, giving it a light brush.
"This is a low-quality thread," he said. "But it's warm to the touch . . . and softer than it looks. You used a combination of comfort and some sort of resilience, didn't you?"
Jacob nodded his head.
The man smiled. "I don't need them for myself, but I could use a few for my assistants. How much for the whole batch?"
Jacob hesitated. "One gold a piece?"
The man opened a pouch and placed eight gold coins in Jacob's hand.
"Call it even . . . that's just about fair for this quality of enchantment."
Jacob blinked, a bit stunned by the extra gold. "Thanks."
"You are not charging enough," the man replied, folding the tunic and setting it back in the sack. "Most enchanters won't even trade in coin. In the world of magic, there are things much more valuable than gold, and these enchantments are one of them."
As they continued walking, Jake thought about what the man had said.
'Enchanting must be rarer than I thought . . . for him to give me so much gold for such easy pieces to enchant, there must be people out there that take advantage of their power.'
And the man was also thinking to himself.
'What a steal! All of my enchanted items from the academy are single-type and cost me a month's worth of points! These multi-enchantment clothes can garner me tons of points from the freshmen! If I can work with this kid or his dad in the future, there is no limit to the high-tier items I will eventually be able to get. I need to get a deal worked out, no matter the cost! Who cares about some gold?'
They kept walking until Jacob recognized the back of the wagon, and his father was standing near.
"Wait here a second," Jacob said, stepping around the side.
He took a breath.
Time to see if Arthur was ready to meet a mage.