LIGHTNOVELONLINE 23: Rarity & Vanity
Aermo's eyes darted around as he walked, hands hovering near the hilt of his sword. Every rustle in the alleyways made his ears perk up. "So, where is this broker exactly?"
Sera closed the journal Zoha had given her with a soft thud. Her gaze settled on a particularly run-down but bustling building made from a patchwork of weathered stone, mismatched bricks, and splintering wood, held together by what looked like sheer willpower and a few strategically placed metal braces. Wisps of colored smoke billowed from the windows, curling into the air in vibrant hues of green, purple, and blue.
"I think that's it," she said, pointing toward the building.
Aermo turned his head and eyed the building, shoulders slumping slightly. "Ah, one of those places."
Sera tucked the journal securely in her cloak. She walked slowly toward the building, the pungent aroma growing stronger with each step. "Shouldn't be too surprising, I doubt people here have much better to do."
Aermo followed closely behind, his eyes still darting around warily. "How are we gonna pay this broker, though? Not like we brought any gold coins."
"I've skimmed through the journal Zoha gave me and figured out the values of various herbs, I can grow these in an instant and use them to bargain."
"Makes sense I guess, just be careful, Boss."
Sera placed her hands against the weathered wooden doors, feeling the rough texture under her palms. "Please, I'll be fine."
She swung the doors open, revealing the interior of the establishment. A dim, flickering light from a few colorful lanterns hanging haphazardly on the walls illuminated the room, casting shadows over the patrons.
The room was filled with people lounging on mismatched, threadbare furniture, each piece sagging under the weight of countless bodies that had rested there before. Many patrons held long, ornate smoking pipes, the air was thick with the pungent aroma of smoked herbs, a blend of pungent scents that clung to everything.
Overflowing ashtrays dotted many of the tables. The low murmur of conversation created a constant hum, punctuated occasionally by the sharp, raucous bursts of laughter. At the far end of the room, a bar stretched across the wall, cluttered with empty glasses and half-filled bottles.
A burly bartender was wiping a glass with a dirty rag. His expression was one of bored disinterest, eyes glazed over as he performed the repetitive task. The glass in his hand was already clean, but he continued to polish it absently, his gaze occasionally drifting to the lively crowd.
Sera's presence drew a few curious glances, but most patrons quickly returned to their own conversations and indulgences as she moved towards the bar. She approached with steady determination, her presence commanding respect even in this dimly lit, smoke-filled establishment. She leaned against the bartop, eyes locking onto the bartender's bored expression.
"Excuse me, I need some information."
The bartender barely glanced at her, continuing to polish the already clean glass with his dirty rag. "We don't serve information here. Especially not to anyone hiding behind a mask."
Sera's eyes narrowed beneath the mask. She took a deep breath, weighing her options. The people here don't appear like the ones I saw before when I first arrived in the slums. It should be fine for me to remove my mask temporarily.
She slowly removed her mask, revealing her striking features. Her silver eyes gleamed brightly, skin smooth and flawless, framed by flowing white hair.
The bartender's jaw dropped slightly. He quickly regained his composure, tone shifting from disdain to a stunned reverence. "I... I'm sorry, miss. What was it you needed to know?"
"I'm looking for a broker to get into the underground arena, do you happen to know where I can find one?."
The bartender swallowed hard, nodding vigorously. "Of course, of course. The broker you're looking for is here. She's usually playing cards at that table." He said, gesturing towards the center of the room with a shaky hand.
A tan-skinned woman, covered in intricate tattoos, sat there, engrossed in a card game with a group of rowdy men. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, revealing the full extent of her tattooed arms and neck.
"Thank you," Sera said curtly, putting her mask back on as she turned away from the bar.
Aermo, who had been standing nearby, stepped closer. "Got what we needed?"
Sera nodded, her eyes fixed on the woman at the table. "Let's go."
They walked through the smoky haze and made their way toward the table. The low murmur of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter filled the air, but Sera's focus remained unbroken. As they approached, the rowdy group of men barely noticed them, too absorbed in their game and the tantalizing prospect of winning.
The woman’s confident demeanor and the stack of coins in front of her suggested she was winning big. She took a long draft from her smoking pipe, exhaling a cloud of smoke that swirled around her.
Sera approached the table carefully with Aermo following closely behind. As they neared the table. One of the men lounging around it, a burly figure with a scruffy beard, leaned back and chuckled, then whistled at Sera, his eyes roaming over her with an unpleasant leer. "Whoa, Missy, why don't you take off that—"
Before he could finish speaking, Sera stepped on his sandal covered foot with her bare heel. Ice crystals formed beneath her touch, spreading outwards like an intricate web. The chill penetrated deeply, freezing his foot from the inside out. The veins and capillaries crystallized while his flesh hardened with an audible crackle.
His eyes widened in shock, pupils dilating as he tried to open his mouth to scream, but Sera’s hand was already at his throat. She squeezed, and the icy chill spread from her fingertips. Frost crept along his skin, veins standing out in sharp relief as they turned a deathly blue.
The freezing spread with ruthless efficiency, every muscle and tendon in his neck seizing up as the cold invaded his bloodstream. His scream was stifled, the sound dying in his throat as the icy grip took hold.
The other men nearby stood up from their chairs, sending cards scattering to the ground. Hands shot to their weapons: knives, machetes, and other crude implements. Their eyes blazed with anger, faces contorted into expressions of barely restrained hostility.
Sera's gaze flicked over each man with clinical detachment, the intensity of her scrutiny sharp enough to cut. "Do you fools really want to do this?"
The men hesitated and looked at each other. The bravado that had fueled their aggression gradually wavered. Their weapons now trembled slightly in their grips as the weight of Sera's words sank in.
Sera stood tall, her presence dominating the room. The icy chill that had emanated from her moments ago still hung in the air.
The men lowered their weapons one by one, with some sheathing their blades altogether. Their shoulders sagged, and they took cautious steps back, as if fearing that any sudden motion might trigger Sera’s wrath.
Yet, one of them instead yelled and charged towards Sera. His battle cry echoed through the room, a desperate attempt to reclaim his lost pride. In response, she dragged her foot over the ground, creating a slick layer of ice.
The man’s feet lost traction the moment they touched the icy surface. His momentum, unchecked by friction, sent him skidding uncontrollably. He flailed his arms to try and regain his balance, but it was futile as he crashed face-first into the hard floor with a bone-jarring thud.
Sera placed her foot on the man’s head, pressing down firmly. The ice responded instantly, its crystalline tendrils wrapping around his skull. His screams, initially loud and filled with terror, were abruptly silenced as the frost completely encased his head.
She then looked up at the other men who were still standing around. "Anyone else?"
The remaining men immediately turned and ran. Their hurried footsteps echoed as they scrambled over each other.
"Some performance that was," the tattooed woman from earlier said, smirking as she finished drawing from her smoke pipe.
Sera turned to her. "And you must be the broker, can you get myself and my companion into the underground arena?"
The woman leaned back. "Depends on what you're willing to offer," she said, tapping ash from her pipe into an overflowing tray. "But after that display, I might just be inclined to listen."
Sera gestured to the man whose throat she froze earlier. "Aermo, if you would be so kind."
The beastkin raised an eyebrow at first, but quickly caught her message. "Uh, right." He then moved the body away, allowing Sera to take a seat.
The broker eyed Sera carefully as she took another draft from her smoke pipe, exhaling a cloud of blue-tinted smoke. "Normally I charge one silver coin per person, but just for you and your beastkin friend, I can do a silver for both."
Sera sniffed the smoke, dissecting the scent of the herbs used. "Vipershade and Aetherwisp?"
The broker chuckled. "You know your stuff."
Sera leaned forward. "Are you interested in barter?"
"How much do you have?"
"I have enough, what you should really be asking is what can you do for me?"
The broker set down her pipe on the table and leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. Her eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing Sera. The elder dryad knew that she was being judged that very instant, but confidence was not something she lacked.
Eventually, the broker sighed and went through her bag that she had set beside her. She pulled out two pieces of parchment etched with glowing red runes. "Tickets to the VIP section of the underground arena, last of my stock."
"You don't mind if I verify these first, do you?" Sera asked. Of course, she didn't have much of an idea on exactly what to do in order to verify the tickets. But I do know how to trigger the activation of runes.
The broker shrugged. "By all means, go ahead."
Sera turned to Aermo, her eyes sharp and focused. "I need you to make a cut on one of your fingers."
Aermo frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why? What are you planning, Boss?"
She fixed him with a steely look. "Stop asking questions and just do as I say."
With a resigned sigh, Aermo nodded. He drew his sword, the metal glinting coldly in the dim light. He hesitated for a brief moment before making a small, precise cut on his finger. Blood welled up from the wound, a single crimson droplet forming.
Sera quickly moved one of the pieces of parchment beneath the cut, her eyes fixed intently on the small wound. She watched as the blood dripped onto the parchment. The instant the drop of blood hit the runes, they glowed brightly, the red light pulsing with an almost hypnotic intensity.
Satisfied, Sera repeated the process with the other piece of parchment, holding it under Aermo's bleeding finger. Once again, the runes glowed brightly as soon as the blood made contact.
Sera glanced at the broker out of the corner of her eye, noting the slight lift of her eyebrow and the amused curl of her lips. The broker’s raised eyebrow suggested surprise. Perhaps because I'm doing something right, or, that I'm doing something they didn't expect.
Sera's mind raced, considering several scenarios. If the broker was genuinely impressed, it could mean she overestimated Sera's knowledge and abilities, a useful leverage. Alternatively, the broker might be testing Sera, gauging her reactions to assess her true skill level.
Despite not knowing the exact significance of the runes, Sera deduced that her actions had conveyed an air of competence and control. The broker’s reaction confirmed this hypothesis. She doesn't seem to think that I don't know how the tickets function, and she's not overly excited or anxious either, which means there is a good chance that the tickets are legitimate.
She handed both parchments back to the broker after a few moments. An amused smile played at the broker's lips as she tapped the parchments lightly against her palm. "Now, how about your end?"
Standing up, Sera smoothed her cloak. "Follow me, I'll take you to my stash."
The broker's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing with skepticism. She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "And how do I know you won't just lead me into a trap? I'm not one to take unnecessary risks."
Turning slowly, Sera faced the broker with an intense gaze. "If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you immediately. You have my word, no harm will come to you."
The broker's eyes flicked over Sera's face. Her fingers tapped against her arm in a rhythmic pattern. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she weighed the risks.
Finally, she sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Her expression softened, though a hint of wariness remained in her eyes. "Alright, lead the way."
***
Sera led both Aermo and the broker to a secluded spot in the slums, a narrow alleyway tucked between crumbling buildings. The area was dimly lit by a single flickering lantern hanging from a rusted hook. The ground was uneven, with a small patch of dirt breaking the monotony of the cobblestones.
The broker glanced around, evidently looking both annoyed and skeptical. She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "There's nothing here?"
Sera stepped forward, and spat out a small, shiny seed onto the patch of dirt at her feet. "Not yet."
For a brief moment, nothing happened. The silence stretched, and the broker's skepticism deepened. Then, the seed pulsated with a faint, bluish glow. Tiny tendrils emerged, delicate and shimmering, as if woven from light itself. The plant grew rapidly, as glowing leaves unfurled one by one.
The leaves were a vivid blue, each one radiating a gentle light that bathed the surroundings in a serene glow. The Aetherwisp plant swayed slightly, its tendrils intertwining gracefully and filling the air with a faint, sweet fragrance.
The broker took a step back, her eyes wide with astonishment. The soft blue glow reflected in her eyes, illuminating her stunned expression. "Holy shit."
Sera gestured to the Aetherwisp. "You're free to take everything."
After a moment, she stood up and turned to Sera. "Who are you really?"
"Does it really matter? I fulfilled my end of the bargain."
"Right, right."
The broker approached the plant and knelt down, fingers brushing gently against the leaves. The soft, delicate texture seemed to intrigue her as she lingered, absorbing the plant's ethereal beauty.
Just as the broker reached to collect the leaves, Sera coughed loudly, causing the broker to pause and look up. "One more thing. Can you guide me to the underground arena?"
The broker straightened, a confident smirk playing on her lips. "I'd love to, but it will cost you extra."
Sera sighed deeply. With a sharp snap of her fingers, the Aetherwisp plant rapidly wilted. Each vibrant blue leaf faded to a dull, lifeless gray.
The broker gasped in horror as she watched the life drain from the plant. She reached out desperately, clutching at the withering leaves as if she could somehow reverse the process. Her fingers trembled, the once soft and pliant texture of the leaves now brittle and fragile under her touch. "Wha-what did you do?"
Sera shrugged nonchalantly. "I've changed my mind about the payment, that's all."
The broker's eyes darted from the dying plant to Sera. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, and her breaths came in shallow, hurried gasps. "I was just joking earlier," she stammered. "I'll guide you to the underground arena, no extra charge.
Sera snapped her fingers again, and the plant partially revived, its leaves regaining some of their original vitality, but not all. "I know the value of Aetherwisp, you should be grateful to even get a few leaves that are this fresh."
The broker nodded hastily as she collected the remaining leaves and placed them into a leather pouch. She took great care during the entire process, as if she were holding gold in her hands.