Now, standing at Miranda's counter, he felt the weight of the leather pouch more heavily than ever.
Was it enough? Or… was it actually more than enough??
Sylene wiped the cold sweat from his brow, his fingers tightening around the coin pouch Sir Draven had given him. It suddenly felt unbearably heavy. The leather was fine, decorated with intricate designs—far too fancy for someone like him. Is being a gardener actually a good career in vampire territory? he wondered.
Shaking the thought away, he reached for the potion pouch on the counter. It was larger than the coin pouch—about the size of a small rugby ball—yet still convenient to carry. His fingers slipped inside, brushing against the smooth glass bottles nestled within. All he had to do was think of the potion he needed, and the correct bottle would instantly rise into his grasp.
These pouches were everywhere—simple-looking things powered by basic alchemical principles. But behind them was the Arcanite Guild, a quiet merchant network run by potion masters and biotech alchemists. Nobody really knew how they worked or where they were based, but their products were in every city—unassuming, inexpensive, and strangely reliable. Everyone used them. Everyone had one. Even he, an experiment, had heard and seen the maids, palace workers, guards, and scientists use them. Sylene was not unfamiliar with them, but he had never owned one before.
Then Miranda handed him another pouch. Sylene looked at her, puzzled.
"That'll be seven silver, boy," Miranda said, leaning on the counter. "I gave you the food pouch as bonus—it'll preserve your meals while you travel. You'll need that, and a bag for such a wide variety of potions. There are almost fifty bottles in there. But you've been sweet, so I'll give you a discount. You only need to pay five silver. How's that?"
Sylene was grateful for the food pouch but still hesitated. Was that the proper price? He had no idea. He just didn't want to get duped again like he had been with the cloak vendor. But Miranda seemed kind and friendly enough—surely she wouldn't cheat him... right?
Slowly, he counted out the coins and placed the exact five silver in her waiting hand. The old woman beamed at him, then proceeded to explain how to use the potions properly. Sylene listened carefully, committing every word to memory.
To test it, he took out a small vial and dabbed the liquid onto his eyes. Miranda, already prepared, produced a tiny mirror from beneath the counter. Sylene leaned in, watching in fascination as the shimmering yellow-green of his irises dulled into an ordinary shade of green. The glow vanished, leaving behind eyes that no longer drew attention—just murky and dark.
Too dull. Too ugly.
He waited, trying to sense any side effects from the potion, but felt nothing. Then again, most potions—or any infections—rarely had any effect on him anyway.
Sylene's lips parted slightly in wonder.
"Thank you," he said earnestly, slipping the potion back into his pouch. "Do you happen to know a safe carriage service that can take me to another city?"
Miranda tapped her fingers against the wooden counter, considering. "Well, do you remember that man who just bought potions? The one who seemed a bit cranky?"
Sylene nodded. The shoulder bump had made him flinch a bit—he had to, to sell the act of being his size and getting hit by someone bigger and heavier. It would've looked strange if he didn't flinch—he was practically unmovable, at least if it was just a strong-looking human.
"He's a mercenary. Travels a lot with his party, so he knows all about carriage services."
She tilted her head toward the door. "You can ask him about safe routes, but leaving town is another matter. The roads are dangerous, and most carriages won't travel beyond the city without extra protection."
Protection? Sylene frowned. He could handle himself just fine. There was a reason Rosencraft had called him a monster…
But he quickly shook off the thought. I am not a monster. Sir Draven had told him that over and over again.
The scientists who made me are.
Still, a sense of unease crept up his spine. He needed to learn how to blend in quickly. The way the world functioned—the way people interacted—felt so foreign to him. He worried that his awkwardness would make others suspicious. There were vampire hybrids in this town; he had seen some of them earlier, so he shouldn't stand out that much, right?
There was a glint of interest in Miranda's eyes as she looked at the boy—like she was expecting something, quietly curious. But then she shook her head, the thought slipping away before Sylene could notice.
"You're really something, boy," she said.
Sylene blinked, confused, but simply offered her a polite nod.
In the end, he gave the horned woman a small wave before stepping out of the shop. Miranda reminded him once more about the possible side effects, and Sylene smiled.
Receiving attention didn't feel so bad. The woman seemed genuinely concerned, even though he was just a customer who had bought something from her.