The Central Market of Aethelberg was less a marketplace and more a living organism.
It breathed.
It roared.
It swallowed people whole and spat them back out carrying silks, spices, jewels, curses, gossip, exotic animals, and occasionally debt.
From the elevated stone road leading down toward the district, Elias could already hear it.
The crashing roar of the coast.
The cries of merchants.
The screeching of gulls overhead.
The rattling of wagon wheels.
The endless pulse of humanity.
The market occupied the eastern coastal quarter of Aethelberg where the great harbor of Aerthos opened into the Gulf of Ae. Massive stone docks stretched into the ocean like giant fingers, crowded with ships flying banners from every corner of the world.
The Central Market existed because of geography.
Aerthos sat at the heart of maritime trade routes. Every major sea current eventually bent toward the eastern coast of the North Sea, making The Central Market the easiest place for foreign merchants to offload goods.
Aethelberg sat on the kingdom's Western Coast, where the North Sea so the trade routes that connected the continent to the wider world. Ships from the continent of Khemri in the northwest, their hulls laden with exotic silks and strange spices, docked at the city's harbors. Vessels from the continent of Silvan in the southwest brought wines and rare woods and gemstones that glittered like frozen fire. Even traders from Ignis in the far east, though their visits were rarer as they were monopolised by the sultanate of Kemet, arrived with wonders that fetched fortunes.
To the north, Nordhelm had its ports. To the south, Veridian had its storehouses. But neither had a market like this—a place where the moment cargo touched the docks, buyers were already waiting. It also allowed neighboring nations to bypass Aerthos as a middleman. Traders from Nordhelm, Veridian, and Kemet could purchase directly from the western continents without waiting for the Crown to redistribute products inland.
Of course, the kingdom still took an enormous commission for allowing it, a hefty rent for the privilege of direct trade, but the merchants paid willingly. The alternative was slower, more expensive, and far less reliable.
A win-win system.
Mostly.
The problem came from currency.
Aeridor used two know systems, The Crown Solar and The Standard Pound. While dealing with these two currencies by themselves was quite tedious there was a system in place that allowed relatively easier transactions. The Western Continents beyond Aeridor however used different currencies.
Exchange rates became a nightmare involving gemstones, Flow-conductive minerals, precious metals, trade seals, and fluctuating value indexes based on regional instability. Apparently, after decades of economic disasters, people eventually devised a convoluted intermediary exchange system involving certified trade tokens and standardized conversion values.
Elias still didn't understand it.
And honestly?
He had stopped trying.
Which was why, on this particular afternoon, Araba D. Amberose had dragged all of them into the largest market in the kingdom to buy a specific kind of imported flour from a nation in Silvan.
Because apparently only that flour could produce the "correct softness" for her signature apple pie.
"It's important," Araba insisted cheerfully as they descended the crowded avenue.
Junior groaned loudly behind her.
"It's just pie, we don't have to wlk in the sun for it."
Araba gasped dramatically.
"But it's you favourite. You were so exited when I said I was going to make some."
Junior visibly recoiled.
"Mommy..." he whined.
Jamie snorted beside Elias.
Maria outright laughed.
Elias walked just behind Araba, his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the crowd. Jamie walked beside him, her maid uniform replaced by her usual fitted tunic and trousers. She had been quiet since they left the townhouse—not sullen, but annoyed. Every few steps, she glanced at Junior.
Junior walked ahead with his mother, his round face set in a permanent sneer. He had complained about the heat, the crowd, the smell, the noise, and the distance within the first five minutes. Araba had patted his head and told him to be patient. He had scowled but obeyed.
Maria brought up the rear.
The group moved through the crowded streets surrounded by four armored guards bearing the Amberose insignia. They moved in practiced formation around the children and Araba, forming a shifting square as they navigated the dense crowds.
Professional.
Alert.
Their eyes constantly scanned rooftops, alleyways, and movement patterns.
Which made the atmosphere around them feel unusually safe despite the overwhelming chaos of the market.
Stalls lined every inch of the streets.
One sold glowing blue fish floating in water spheres suspended by Flow.
Another displayed Khemri glassworks so clear they looked invisible.
Further ahead, Ignis blacksmiths hammered orange-red metal that sparked with heat despite not touching flame.
The air smelled like everything at once.
Salt.
Sugar.
Smoke.
Seaweed.
Perfume.
Cooked meat.
Exotic spices strong enough to sting the nose.
Every few seconds other languages drifted through the streets.
Some sharp and clipped.
Some melodic.
Some completely incomprehensible.
"Try some! Fresh dragon peppers from Ignis!"
"Slav silk! Genuine Slav silk!"
"Watch your purse!"
"Move your damn cart!"
"Five Solar?! No lower!"
"THAT WAS MY FISH!"
Elias stared blankly at two men wrestling over a tuna the size of Jamie.
"The civilization of this world is low-key is amazing," he muttered.
"Thats a strange way to express your admiration," Maria said coming to stand beside him.
Elias glanced sideways.
Maria Clementes walked confidently through the crowd like she owned the entire district.
Tall.
Fair-skinned.
Dark-hair that was styled in double braids, one over her shoulder, the other falling behind her. She wore a simple white shirt and a long skirt that reached her shins, practical but somehow elegant. Her eyes were sharp, her smile constant, her gaze always moving.
Unlike Elias and Jamie whose Awakened physiology made them appear around twelve or thirteen despite their actual ages, Maria was genuinely thirteen.
And because of that same physiology, she looked even older.
Not adult.
But mature.
Confident.
The kind of confidence that made crowds unconsciously part around her.
This didn't apply to Junior who looked like a little kid even though he was the raoughly the same age as him and Jamie.
Elias still remembered Maria's first entrance into the house earlier that morning.
She had appeared at the townhouse an hour ago, and simply walked in.
"I like you too," she had told Elias after studying him for a few moments.
Then she started teasing Junior. Then greeted Araba who emerged from the kitchen like they saw each other every day.
Meanwhile Elias had stood there, confused wondering why random people kept entering his house like they owned it.
At this point he genuinely considered making a sign.
NO STRANGERS ALLOWED.
His gaze lingered on Maria briefly.
Maria was the daughter of Dante Clementes, the Head Hunter of the Hunter's Bureau. Her father was a Praetorian—thus the strongest hunter in the kingdom.
And conveniently… living next door to Alaric Dukker and Ortis Mellou.
Elias frowned faintly.Coincidence felt increasingly unrealistic.
Tamamo's words resurfaced quietly in his mind.
'Pieces,' he thought. 'On a board I cannot see huh?'
If Ortis and Dante truly were pieces in some greater game… what exactly was he supposed to do about it?
Nothing.
That was the honest answer.
Ortis was a Paragon.
Dante was a Praetorian.
Even if Elias discovered some grand conspiracy tomorrow, what exactly could he do against monsters capable of flattening countries?
He sighed internally.
Being weak was frustrating.
"What do you think?" Jamie suddenly asked.
"Hm?"
Elias blinked and realized everyone was looking at him.
"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking about something else."
Maria laughed.
"Jamie was asking about Fazhan University."
"Oh." Elias nodded. "Right. You're in your first form."
Maria puffed her chest slightly.
"Thats right, First Form year one."
She explained earlier that Fazhan University divided progression into Forms instead of grades. Each Form lasted roughly two years and covered different stages of Flow development, combat specialization, philosophy, and Trait refinement.
"I took some time off. Wanted a break."
Then she grinned brightly.
"Good thing too. Otherwise I wouldn't have met you two."
Elias had absolutely no idea how to respond to that level of energy.
Jamie, however, seemed perfectly capable of keeping up despite her attention was split between Maria and her ongoing cold war with Junior.
The fat boy marched behind Araba with his nose slightly raised.
"Servant girl," he called.
Jamie ignored him.
"Servant girl."
Nothing.
"SERVANT GIRL."
Jamie slowly turned.
"I'm not a servant girl."
Junior ignored her and pointed dramatically toward several shopping bags from thier recent purchase.
"Carry those."
Araba looked mortified.
"Junior—"
"It's fine," Jamie interrupted flatly.
She grabbed the bags.
Then casually stored every single one inside the copper ring on her finger.
Junior froze as the bags vanished.
"What the..."
Jamie walked ahead without another word.
The boy's face turned red instantly.
Maria burst out laughing.
Elias hid a grin.
Junior spent the next ten minutes attempting increasingly pathetic provocations while Jamie completely ignored him.
It was honestly impressive.
Junior's face had grown redder with every failed provocation.
Elias watched the dynamic with quiet amusement.
The crowds thickened. The stalls grew more exotic .Araba paused to examine a jar of crushed Khemrian pepper, bargaining with the merchant. Thats when he noticed the first person in rags at the edge of a stall.
The figure was hunched, their face hidden beneath a hood, their clothes little more than tattered cloth. They moved through the crowd with a shuffling gait, head down, shoulders hunched.
Elias eyes narrowed slightly.
He had noticed one earlier near the docks.
Now another stood beside a spice stall.
Their clothing concealed almost everything—faces, bodies, hands.
At first Elias assumed they were beggars.
But something felt… off.
Through Synesthesia, he could perceive emotional impressions bleeding into the world around him.
The Intent of the world.
The ragged figures carried something sharp.
Focused.
Purposeful.
Intense.
Elias frowned. Aside reading thier intent he could tell fromthier movements that they were quite able bodied. they did not move with the slow economy of a malnourished pauper but with the determination of a strongman.
As they moved deeper into the market, he noticed more of them.
One near a butcher.
Another beside a jewelry stand.
One watching from a rooftop.
The strange part was how naturally they blended in despite standing out so much.
His gaze shifted slightly.
One of them was following their group. He was sure of it. The same hunched figure, the same shuffling gait, not close enough to alarm the guards and always at the edge of his vision.
Elias stared for several seconds before eventually looking away.
He was probably overthinking it and it was a beggar. Or maybe someone hoping rich nobles dropped money.
Or a thief.
The market attracted all kinds.
Still though…Something about them bothered him.A loud argument nearby snapped him from his thoughts.
"THAT IS NOT REAL WYVERN MEAT!"
"IT IS REAL ENOUGH!"
"THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING!"
Jamie barked out a laugh.
Maria smirked.
Araba sighed tiredly.
"This market gets louder every time I'm here."
"That's because people are stupid," Junior muttered.
"You are people," Jamie replied instantly.
Junior glared.
"I hate you."
"The feeling is mutual."
Elias barely suppressed another sigh having grown tired of the two of them at that point.
'Children were exhausting.'
…which was unfortunate considering he technically was one.
The deeper they traveled into Central Market, the denser the crowds became.Large cloth canopies stretched overhead between buildings, casting the streets in shifting colored shadows.Flow-lamps floated overhead.Street performers danced beside fountains.
An old storyteller manipulated sand into moving beasts with his Trait while children watched in awe.
Near the coast, massive cargo crane like artifacts unloaded goods from arriving ships while workers shouted over one another in organized chaos.
The sheer scale of the market was overwhelming.
You could live your entire life here and probably never see every street.
Araba finally stopped before a massive stone building bearing a carved wheat insignia.
"There!" she announced happily.
"The flour exchange."
Junior groaned again.
"We came all this way for flour…"
"Special flour," Araba corrected.
Maria leaned against a nearby post casually while Elias observed their surroundings. It seemed they had lost the ragged stalker. Before he could process this information into either relief or apprehension however Jamie yelped.
"Hey—!"
Everyone turned instantly.
A scarred man had appeared seemingly from nowhere.
One rough hand clamped tightly around Jamie's wrist.
"I've got her," he said.