The night grew deeper, and though it was time to rest, Ficky's performance had made that impossible. He had become an overnight sensation. A swarm of female fans blocked the back exit, forcing them to retreat.
Slam!
Ficky threw the door shut with a frustrated grunt. He grabbed Aya's hand, intending to bolt through the main entrance, but the chaotic noise from the lobby stopped him in his tracks.
"Haven't they gone home yet? I thought it was just a few people," Ficky grumbled, trapped with no clear way out.
"Look, Ficky. Is that magic?"
Unlike Ficky, Aya was captivated by the commotion. She pointed toward the gathering guests. A brilliant light bathed the room as glowing roots sprouted from the floor, twining upward to form luminous pillars.
"What on earth is happening?" Ficky muttered, stunned. The sight of the radiant flora filling the hall was breathtaking.
"Everything is sparkling. Magic is truly incredible, isn't it?" Aya marveled.
The magic was exquisite. Aya spotted a glowing butterfly and began to follow it into the crowd, where the guests were merrily feasting on the dwarf's snacks.
"Ah—hey! Wait!" Ficky called out.
The light showed no sign of fading—this was pure, conjured magic. The spirit-booster snacks were meant for beast-kin, keeping them alert and vibrant; the effects were clearly visible on Aya. Ficky, who hadn't touched the treats, remained his usual grumpy self.
"Tch, what a troublesome woman. She better not complain when she can't sleep later!" Ficky sat down to wait, fuming in solitude.
Aya, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. She chatted gaily with the guests, her anxieties about returning home momentarily forgotten.
"Miss Aya? You're still here? I thought you'd gotten what you came for," the dwarf said, trotting over to her.
"I'm still here because I wanted to see this! What kind of magic is this?" Aya asked, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked up at the flower-laden roots.
"It's my magic. I spend a lot of time with pixies, so I'm attuned to the magic of nature and growth. It's my way of making everyone happy." The dwarf beamed; his worries had vanished along with his stock.
"And look! I've sold out every last snack!" he cheered.
The dwarf led Aya away from the center of the crowd. Nearby, a man sat focused, sketching intensely on a piece of paper.
"He's drawing Ficky," Aya noted, taking a seat beside him.
"Miss Aya, give me your hand," the dwarf requested.
"Sure. What for?"
Aya's attention was mostly on the artist, who was so absorbed in capturing Ficky's likeness that he didn't look up. Meanwhile, the dwarf touched Aya's palm. A soft green light pulsed between them. As the glow faded, a tiny vine crept up Aya's arm, ending in a small pink flower that curled delicately around her middle finger.
"What's this?" Ficky suddenly appeared, pulling Aya's hand back protectively.
"It's just a flower. It doesn't hurt," Aya said, a bit annoyed by his constant suspicion.
Ficky glared at the dwarf with an intimidating intensity that made the little man shiver.
"She's right. There's nothing to fear," the dwarf said, avoiding Ficky's gaze. After a brief, tense silence, the dwarf stood to leave. "Thank you both for your help. This flower will serve as a protector for a... fragile beast-kin." And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Two more gold coins fell—this time, they were identical to the ones Aya had collected before. Ficky picked them up.
"We got more. Hey, what's the count now?"
"Fourteen coins, with three different designs."
"I thought we'd have dozens by now. We need more than seventy-five if we want our luck to actually mean something," Ficky noted.
As the party continued inside, Aya and Ficky slipped out to find an inn. However, the streets were eerily silent. The bustling City of Slaves they had seen earlier was gone, replaced by empty alleys, stray cats, and a biting wind.
"Is it just me, or does this place feel different from the city we arrived in?"
"It's strange. I feel it too. It's like the place has transformed," Aya agreed, glancing around. Not a single outdoor lamp was lit. It was as if the city were uninhabited.
They stopped in the middle of a square, sitting at the base of a legendary statue—the "Legendary Slave" their guide had mentioned earlier. Aya at that time only heard vaguely about this.
"Ficky, are we really sleeping in the middle of the street?"
"Don't see much of a choice, do you?"
Aya should have expected this. The city felt like a graveyard. No one moved; only the wind whistled through the pillars.
"Is this my fault?" Aya asked, shivering as she hugged herself.
"Obviously. But even if we'd left earlier, I doubt we'd find a room in a ghost town."
They both let out a long sigh, looking for all the world like vagrants in the heart of a dead city. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind them. Ficky's body went rigid, his fists clenching. As the footsteps drew closer, Ficky spun around, swinging an armored fist.
"Wait!" Aya cried out. Ficky pulled his punch just in time, his eyes widening.
"You're the guide from this morning, aren't you?" Ficky demanded.
"Yes. I've only come to warn you about the night in the City of Slaves," the guide said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
Ficky lowered his guard but remained tense, glancing at Aya.
"I apologize for his rudeness," Aya said, her brow furrowed. "Can you explain what you mean?"
"People are being abducted by the killer. Specifically slaves. He will appear again tonight to take any slave found wandering," the guide explained, his wide eyes betraying his fear.
"Ficky... Una mentioned a killer earlier. It must be the same one," Aya whispered, remembering the dog-kin woman's warning.
Ficky nodded slowly. "Do these slaves get put to work... or are they killed?"
"Some return. Many do not."
A sudden, frigid gust of wind made Ficky gasp. Before he could move, a dozen weapons thudded into the ground around them, each one pinned with a paper talisman. They were surrounded.