Her gaze is a physical thing. I feel it on my skin, an inquisitive pressure that seems to weigh my very soul. Her unnatural violet eyes do not blink. They analyze, catalog, evaluate. In a single second, she must have estimated my net worth to be less than the dust under her boots.
"You are young to be wandering in such a place, little one," her voice is like the rustling of ancient pages, dry and full of knowledge. "Either you are very foolish, or very desperate. Which is it?"
"A bit of both, perhaps," I reply, my voice steadier than I expected. The fear is there, but it is overshadowed by necessity.
A very faint smile touches her thin lips. "Honesty. A rare commodity here. Almost as rare as loyalty. What do you have for me? Do not waste my time."
I cast a cautious glance around. No one is paying us any attention. The Black Market operates on a principle of mutual discretion. Everyone is too busy with their own illicit affairs to be interested in others', unless an obvious opportunity for profit or betrayal presents itself.
I place my heavy bag on her table. The dull thud of the stones clinking together gets her attention. Her gaze leaves my face for the first time and settles on the coarse canvas sack.
"Show me," she orders.
With slightly trembling hands, I open the bag and tip the opening. The soft blue glow of the Soul Ore spills onto the black velvet of her table, a beautiful contrast to the darkness.
The Appraiser's violet eyes widen by a fraction of a millimeter. It is the only reaction she allows herself, but for a person of such control, it is as if she has let out a cry of surprise.
She doesn't touch the ore. Not yet. She leans forward, her nostrils flaring slightly, as if she can smell its essence. She then pulls a small monocle from her pocket, its lens a dark crystal, and places it over her eye. She examines the stones for a long moment, her silence more intimidating than any question.
"Raw Soul Ore," she says finally, her voice a whisper. "Of a... remarkable purity. You don't find this quality near the surface anymore. This comes from the depths. The very, very deep depths." She lowers her monocle and fixes her gaze on me again. "The question is no longer whether you are foolish or desperate, little one. The question is: how did a boy like you get his hands on this?"
"I got lucky," I lie.
She lets out a short, dry laugh. "Luck is not enough to find this. It requires a map, knowledge of the old mines, or..." Her gaze becomes more piercing. "...it must be stolen from whatever was guarding it. Tell me, little rat, is the creature you took this from still after you?"
Her intuition is frightening. She has guessed part of the truth without a single clue.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I just want to sell it."
"Of course," she says, in a tone that makes it clear she doesn't believe me for a second. "This is a dangerous commodity to possess. And even more dangerous to sell. You try to sell this to anyone else in this market, and you'll end up with a blade in your back before you even see the color of the first coin."
She finally takes a stone from the bag. Her gnarled fingers turn it over, almost caressing it. "This is a treasure. Enough to craft a dozen high-quality enchanted weapons, or a single masterpiece." She puts the stone down. "I can buy it from you. But you may not like my price. I am taking a risk by touching this. A risk that has a cost."
"How much?"
She sizes me up again. "One hundred gold pieces."
The sum is astronomical. One hundred gold pieces. I could leave this city, buy a small farm, live the rest of my days without ever being hungry again. It's more money than my entire village would see in a decade.
But I see a glint in her eyes. She is watching me, waiting for my reaction. It is a test.
"No," I say.
Her eyebrow raises. "No? Boy, I am offering you a fortune. Anyone else in your position would have already accepted and be running for the hills."
"It is a fortune," I admit. "But it is not its true value. If you are taking such a risk, it means it's worth much more." I take a deep breath. This is the biggest gamble of my life. "I don't want your gold."
She seems genuinely surprised. "Then what do you want? Don't tell me you came here for nothing?"
"I want something else. Equipment. Information. And... a skill."
She leans back, a true smile forming on her face for the first time. It is a thin, predatory smile, but tinged with a definite amusement. "A rat who doesn't want the cheese, but the key to the cheese pantry. You are becoming interesting, little one. Very interesting. Speak. What do you have in mind?"
"Equipment," I begin, my voice gaining confidence. "Dark leather armor, lightweight, that makes no noise. Silent boots. And a better sheath for my dagger. Something that lets me draw it faster."
She nods. "Doable. A minor expense. Continue."
"Information. I want to know everything there is to know about Soul Ore. Its properties, who uses it, where it's found, and what creatures guard it."
"Knowledge for goods," she says. "A fair trade. Accepted. And finally... the skill. That is the most difficult request. Skill scrolls are rare and cost a fortune. Most are forgeries. What exactly are you looking for?"
"Something to help me survive in the shadows. Something that complements my fighting style. Stealth, discretion... something like that."
She thinks for a long moment, her fingers drumming on the table. "I may have what you need. A rare, authentic scroll. The skill is Camouflage. It allows one to blend into the shadows, making detection nearly impossible as long as one remains still. A perfect tool for ambush and escape."
My heart races. That is exactly what I need. It's the skill that could have saved me from the Miner's detection.
"I want that," I say.
"A set of quality armor, valuable information, and a stealth skill scroll... All in exchange for this bag of stones," she summarizes. "It's an unusual transaction. But I like unusual transactions." She extends her gnarled hand across the table. "We have a deal, little rat."
I shake her hand. Her skin is as dry and cold as paper.
"My name is Elara," she says. "Come back in two nights. I will have gathered what you've asked for. Do not come before then. And until then, don't get yourself killed. It would be a waste of good ore." She pulls the bag to her side of the counter, and it disappears under the table.
The deal is sealed. I turn to leave, a sense of vertigo washing over me. I did it. I have transformed a raw treasure into tangible power.
As I leave the stall, Elara calls out to me one last time.
"Little rat."
I turn back.
"I don't know what you ran from to get here," she says, her violet eyes glowing in the gloom. "But know this. The power you seek is a hunger that is never sated. The more you devour, the more it will grow. Make sure you are not the one devoured in return."
Her words send a chill down my spine. She's not talking about my skill. She can't know. And yet, she has struck at the very heart of my curse.
I leave the warehouse, back into the dark streets of Kryndal. I don't have a single copper piece in my pocket, but I am richer than ever. I have traded material wealth for something far more precious: tools.
In two nights, I will be better equipped, better informed, and more dangerous.
My hunger rumbles. But for the first time, I smile when I feel it. Soon, I will give it a feast to remember.