The group walked along the cobble path not too far from the beach they had just exited from. Despite the grandeur, the trek didn’t actually take too long. About an hour after departure, they were already at the barony arches. Something about them took on a different energy as they approached. The arches were built with an intricate design–flames swirling in a dance, their form shifting and flickering, but made entirely of blue stone, the sun giving the illusion of fire without the heat. The fire patterns traced up the gates in fluid, angular shapes, catching the light in cool hues of sapphire and turquoise. Everything about it was breathtaking, and as they walked through, they began to realize the city was no less. Beyond the gates, the city sprawled out before them, with tall buildings in the distance made of pale blue marble and stone. The streets stretched ahead, winding upward in a fairly pleasant bit of natural architecture, not too steep to navigate. All of the streets went up, toward the castle perched at the peak of the hill, its silhouette looming above the city. The castle was in a shape most would call, unconventional. It was like a large somewhat slanted cone, still with all the intricacies to be considered a castle, and a very obvious entrance. But what you would never realize, unless viewing the city from a birds eye view, is that the castle over the city’s circular shape acted as a functional sundial. It served no obvious purpose due to it being far too big to be legitimately functional, but it did look really cool. As they continued through they began to notice, there was an almost tangible tension in the air—a feeling that those around them were watching. The people didn’t look hostile, but there was a certain wariness of their gaze, especially towards Thistle.

Cass bounced ahead of Thistle and Riona, her eyes darting to every side as they passed rows of street vendors displaying an array of dazzling goods. One stall in particular caught her eye, its table laden with colorful jewel trinkets similar to the ones she was infatuated with in the suburbs. Except these ones shimmered in the sunlight, refracting rainbows onto the polished stone street. The vendor, a round—faced man with a bushy beard and a cheerful demeanor, greeted her as she approached.

“Well, hello there, little miss!” he said, leaning forward with a warm smile, “Looking for something to take home? Or just admiring the craftsmanship?”

Cass giggled as she placed her hands on the counter and propped herself up on her toes to get a better look, her face mere inches from delicate jewels, “Oh, wow! Did you make these yourself?”

“Sure did!”

Cass’s voice brimmed with awe, “They’re so pretty! Are they magic? They look magic.”

The vendor chuckled nervously from hearing the word ‘magic’, “Not exactly magic—just a little heat and a lot of skill.” he picked up one of the jewels and presented it as if he were in an infomercial, “That shine? That’s from the minerals we use, harvested right here in the Barony.”

“Whoa—” Cass said, her eyes wide. She pointed at a small glass pendant shaped like a flame, its core pulsing with a soft, blue light. “What about that one? Can I—”

Cass reaches her right hand towards it, the shine of the imbued object on the back of her hand called it out like an alarm. The vendor’s expression suddenly froze, his eyes snapping to her hands on the counter. His warm demeanor vanished in an instant, replaced by a guarded, almost hostile edge.

“That’s enough, kid,” he said abruptly, his hands darting out to slam the stall’s shutters closed.

The counter rattled, and Cass yelped, jerking her hands back just in time to avoid them being caught. The stall was now completely closed.

Cass blinked in surprise, looking back up at the closed stall in confusion, “Wha—what happened?! Did I say something wrong?”

“Shop’s closed,” the vendor said curtly, his tone colder than the lapis patterns lining the streets, “Move along.”

“But you were just—” Cass began, her voice tinged with hurt before she bit her lip and took a step back.

She knew anything she said would be left on deaf ears. She didn’t bother herself with another word, she was used to rejection.

Cass frowned, her earlier excitement deflating like a popped balloon. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and turned back toward Thistle and Riona, her voice subdued, “I didn’t think it’d be a big deal here—”

Riona crouched down slightly, putting a hand on Cass’s shoulder as she returned to them, “Are you okay, what happened?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Cass said quickly, though her smile was forced, “He just closed all of a sudden, I don’t know why.”

“It’s the magic,” Thistle says pointing at the imbued object on the dorsal side of her hand, Cass looking down at it as well, “the people here, aren’t too fond of mages.”

“Why?!” Cass asked.

He shrugged, “No clue, Torin says it’s been like that for a while. Best to just ignore them.”

Riona turns to face him, “But don’t we need to buy that glass? How are we gonna do that when you're refused service everywhere?”

“Oh yeah, about that–” Thistle pulls a small pouch out from his staff, “here,” he hands it to Riona, “you’ll have to buy the glass for us.”

“Wait, what? But, I–” Riona nervously stutters, not trusting herself with the responsibility, “I don’t even know what I’m looking for, I don’t wanna buy the wrong thing.”

“You’ll be fine, just find glass that matches the kind on the censor,” he reassures her, handing her the broken censor.

“I, uh–” her hands tremble slightly, “I’ll try, I guess.”

“Cool.” he gives her a thumbs up.

Thistle gave Cass a side glance as she tugged at his cloak, her face still clouded with disappointment, “Still sulking about that stall?”

Cass huffed, her cheeks puffing slightly in frustration, “I’m not sulking!” she shot back, though her voice betrayed her irritation, “I just don’t get why he closed up like that! It’s not fair.”

“You’ve got that look, though,” Thistle said, smirking, “You know, the ‘kicked puppy’ one.”

Cass pouts, putting her bandana over her face, “Do not compare me to a puppy!”

Thistle chuckled, giving her a light pat on the head. “Alright, alright. But maybe next time don’t lean on the counter so much if you wanna look at something. You might scare the vendors away.”

Cass groaned and batted his hand away. “I wasn’t trying to scare anyone! I just wanted to see what he had, it’s not my fault I’m short!” Cass crossed her arms, muttering under her breath, “This place is dumb.”

“Cheer up,” Thistle said, adjusting his grip on his staff. “You’re coming with me, that means you get to see the big ol’ castle.”

“Oh yeah, you gotta talk to the baroness, right? I guess that’s kinda cool.”

“I thought you said this place was dumb?” Thistle teases.

 “Dumb things can be cool sometimes.” they begin to walk away before Cass stops and turns back around towards Riona, “Oh, almost forgot!” she takes the calling stone out of her pocket and hands it to Riona, “Here, you probably need this more than I do right now.” she jogs off to catch up with Thistle, leaving Riona alone.

Riona stood frozen, clutching the calling stone in her hand as the overwhelming sounds of the market swelled around her. The crowd moved like a living tide, brushing past her, voices overlapping in a disorienting hum. Her breath quickened as she stared at the endless rows of stalls, the sheer number of people swarming the plaza pressing against her like a tangible weight. She tried to take a step forward but stopped when someone brushed too close, she muttered an apology each time someone hurried past. Each “Sorry” and “Excuse me” being drowned out by a sea of voices and oblivious bystanders. She begins to cover her ears and close her eyes as she attempts to regain her bearings.

I can do this. It’s just a crowd. Just like training. Focus. She thought to herself.

But the noise, the movement, the unfamiliarity—it all gnawed at her confidence, rooting her in place. As she panics she is suddenly pulled to the side near the storefronts by a hooded stranger. The stranger looks at her before beginning to walk off, but Riona doesn’t follow, she instead looks up and notices one of the shops is called Azure Reflections. That sounds glass esc, so she walks inside, her presents being greeted by a bell as she opens the door.

The interior was cool and calm, a sharp contrast to the busy streets outside. Shelves stretched high with neatly arranged glassware—vases, panels, and ornaments of every shape and size. The intricate craftsmanship of the pieces caught the light filtering through the tall windows, casting shimmering patterns across the walls. The light from the overhead crystal chandelier cast refracted its own patterns across the room, creating a soft interplay of azure and white on the smooth stone floor. Delicate glass panes etched with swirling designs of fire and waves hung from the ceiling, acting as partitions between sections of the store. On closer inspection, Riona noticed that the patterns seemed to shift slightly with the light, creating the illusion of movement. 

She met with a monotone greeting as the entrance bell went off, “Welcome to Azure Reflections—” the voice came from a girl behind a counter near the left wall by the entrance, looking down blankly at the counter, before looking up, “Woah, are you ok?” she asked, noticing Riona’s current state.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine, just a little shook up is all,” she says with a forced smile.

“Ok, let me know if you need anything.” she looked back down at the counter.

Riona wandered through the store, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor as she allowed herself a moment to breathe. As she walked around, she let her fingers trail along the edges of the tables holding the polished displays. Every corner seemed to sparkle, from delicate figurines shaped like fantastical creatures—sirens, water nymphs, and sea serpents—to intricately engraved panes depicting scenes of rolling waves and rising suns. A plaque beneath them read, Locally made from the finest sands of Azurite. Though lovely, nothing here matched the functionality she needed for the sensor. She moved on. As Riona circled back toward the entrance, her eyes fell on a vertical stack of glass panels leaning against a wooden frame near the doorway. Above them, a hand—painted sign read, For Custom Usage. These were plainer than the rest—no etchings, no colors, just simple panes with a faint sheen that hinted at their quality. She approached and kneeled down to the stack, carefully sliding one forward to inspect its texture and clarity. The glass was smooth to the touch, relief settled over her; this could work.

Her gaze shifted, and she froze. The hooded stranger from before stood at the same display, their hand lifting one of the panes as they tilted it in the light. They didn’t seem to notice her immediately, their attention fixed on the glass in their hand. Riona hesitated, her fingers brushing against the glass she had been examining. She knew she ought to thank them for helping her earlier, but something about their quiet presence gave her pause and unease. She steeled herself, clearing her throat softly before speaking.

“Hey,” she began, her voice quiet but firm.

The stranger’s head tilted slightly toward her, though their face was no longer hidden under the shadow of their hood, they were wearing a mask over the bottom half of their face, so their appearance was still unclear, apart from a single visible strand of grey hair.

“I, uh—” She shifted her weight awkwardly. “I just wanted to say thank you. For earlier. Helping me out of that crowd.”

The stranger set the pane of glass back into the stack with deliberate care, their movements unhurried, “It was nothing,” they replied, their voice calm and even, “You would’ve been trampled otherwise, and I don’t like needless violence. That’s all.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” Riona said, trying to gauge their expression, though it remained frustratingly obscured. “I was— overwhelmed. It’s not really my thing—crowds, I mean.”

The stranger gave a faint nod but said nothing more, their attention drifting back to the glass. Riona lingered for a moment, unsure if she should press the conversation further. There was something odd about them—something she couldn’t quite place. But as much as her curiosity tugged at her, she chose not to pry. Instead, she turned back to the glass and selected the piece she needed.

The stranger spoke again, their voice low, almost as if to themselves, “You don’t belong here, do you?”

The question caught her off guard. 

She stiffened, narrowing her eyes at them, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The stranger shrugged, their tone nonchalant, “Nothing, just ignore me.”

Riona frowned, gripping the glass panel tighter. She didn’t have time for cryptic remarks. With a huff, she headed toward the counter to finalize her purchase. She placed the glass on the counter, catching the shopkeeper’s attention. 

The girl looked up from her empty gaze on the counter, “Oh, find everything you need?”

“Yes, thank you. You guys have some very nice sculptures for sale, they’re beautiful.”

The girl faintly smiles, “Oh, thanks. My dad owns this shop, he makes all the sculptures.” her frown disappears, “And it’s my job to sell them while he’s out on the sea because apparently being a kid on spring break isn’t allowed.”

Riona frowned upon hearing ‘spring break’, “Well, at least you’re getting paid, right?”

The girl laughs, “Ha, paid?! Did you miss the part where I said my dad owned the shop? This is an obligation, not a job.”

“Oh.”

“So what brings you to the barony?” the girl smiles at her.

“What, how did you—”

“It was obvious, anyone from the barony would be used to crowds.” the girl leaned one of her arms on the counter, “Anyway that’ll be eighty chips,” she said, sliding the glass into a protective wrap.

Riona dug into the pouch Thistle gave her and handed over the chips, glancing back at the stranger still lingering by the display. Their gaze seemed distant as if their mind were elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about them was— off.

“Thanks,” Riona said quietly as the shopkeeper handed her the wrapped glass.

She turned to leave, but she froze, glancing over her shoulder. The hooded stranger was no longer examining the glass. Instead, they stood near the shelf of glowing figurines, their hand disappearing into their pocket.

Did they just — steal something? She thought to herself.