He made his way through the market, following Miranda's directions. It didn't take him long to find the place where the horses gathered—a neat and orderly area just beyond the slums.
The slums' entrance wasn't far from here. The cloak vendor had been within the slums' winding alleys, but Miranda's potion shop and the nearby inn stood just beyond its borders. The two areas were close, yet worlds apart in atmosphere.
Sylene's gaze drifted to the horses. Strong, broad-shouldered beasts stood before him, breath steaming in the crisp winter air. Muscles rippled beneath thick coats, and the way they held themselves—proud and unyielding—made it clear these animals were built for endurance.
Not far from the animals, a small wooden office stood at the edge of the station. A group of men sat outside, playing cards and smoking, their voices carrying in the cold air.
Sylene's ears twitched as he caught a familiar voice—one of the men was still grumbling about the price of potions.
"You know that old hybrid just robbed me!" the mercenary from earlier complained, throwing down his cards in frustration. "How can potions cost that much?!"
An older man, likely the carriage service's owner, gave him an unimpressed look.
"Come on, old guy, help me out," the mercenary continued. "Just give me the damn carriage—I can handle all the safety nonsense myself."
The carriage master sighed, shaking his head. "No can do. I have to bring the carriage back in one piece. Your team only goes one way. I still have to deal with the bandits in the mountains—and that's not even mentioning those creatures out there."
Sylene lingered near the horses, quietly observing. Creatures? His gaze flickered toward the road beyond the city gates.
It seemed that leaving town wouldn't be as simple as he had hoped.
The argument continued for a while, voices rising and falling in heated exchange. The mercenary—rugged and rough-looking, with unruly brown hair—had an intimidating presence. His name was Bryent, a man in his late twenties, and Sylene had already taken note of his voice and scent.
As Sylene approached the group of men, they all fell silent, their card game and conversation momentarily forgotten. A heavy tension settled in the air, making Sylene feel as though he had just disrupted something he wasn't meant to.
Bryent turned to him with a deep frown. "What're you doin' here, kid? This ain't a place for someone your age. Go back to your mama."
His dull green eyes met the mercenary's for a brief moment before Bryent waved him off dismissively, his attention already shifting back to what Sylene assumed was the transport service owner. They were still locked in negotiations over the price of a carriage.
"I want to rent a carriage," Sylene stated plainly.
A brief silence fell over the group. Then, laughter erupted around him.
"We don't do business with kids!" one of the men scoffed. "Go home. Don't joke around, or we'll teach you a lesson."
Sylene frowned, irritation prickling at him. Their ignorance was annoying. "I'm serious. I can pay."
One of the men smirked. "What, running errands for your family? Or your master?"
Sylene blinked, momentarily thrown off. Master? What were they talking about?
"I don't have a master," he said simply. "And I'm traveling alone."
The older man at the table, who had been watching him with mild suspicion, suddenly leaned back in his chair, studying Sylene more intently.
He wasn't a child—not that young, anyway. And his eyes, though dull and unremarkable, were still green. That color had become rare these days. If he wasn't human, then he had to be a hybrid. Maybe even a noble…?
What business would someone like him have in a border city like this?
"And so, how exactly are you planning to pay, kid?" the old man asked, his lips curling into a half-smirk.
Sylene's frown deepened. What else would I use to pay if not money?
"How much is it for a trip to Luen?" he asked.