Sam's reading was abruptly halted by the ringing of the bell hanging on the door. A man entered the store, draped in a black trench coat that obscured much of his face. Despite the muddy boots he wore, he confidently approached the counter. Sam couldn't help but grimace, anticipating the additional cleaning he'd have to do to address the mud-covered boots.
The customer doffed his hat and cradled it alongside his suitcase. He glanced around the store before making his way to Sam. "Where's Mr. Kinoya? If I ain't mistaken, this store was owned by him, right?"
Sam flashed his friendliest smile and replied, "Absolutely, sir! You're in the right spot. However, Mr. Kinoya is currently catching some sleep. How may I be of assistance to you?"
The customer gave a nod, seemingly unbothered by the news of Mr. Kinoya's absence. "Rest, eh? Well, you can certainly assist me. I'm here for potions. Mr. Kinoya mentioned he had most of it in stock. You reckon you can fetch it for me?"
"Yes sir, I'll provide whatever potion you require if they are in stock. In case we don't have any potions, you can leave your order here, and Mr. Kinoya will have them ready before the end of the week," said Sam with a friendly smile.
The man put down his suitcase and took out a parchment from his inner pockets. He started to read, "Then I would like to buy two Philters of Paralyzed Minds, four Lunacy Potions, three Flasks of Steelskin, and one Brew of Corruption. Yeah, that's all." He put the paper back after reading it out loud.
"I appreciate your patience, sir. Allow me a moment to gather all the items you've requested." With those words, Sam retraced his steps to where the old man stored his potions. After diligently searching for nearly five minutes, Sam returned to the counter. He carefully arranged the potions and placed them in front of the customer.
"Regrettably, the 'Brew of Corruption' is currently out of stock. However, if you are willing to wait, we can procure it for you within the next two days," Sam informed the customer with a polite tone.
The customer, seemingly unconcerned about the unavailable potion, inquired, "Excellent, and please, there's no need to trouble yourself with obtaining that particular potion. How much would the total cost be for the rest of the items?"
Sam retrieved a piece of paper from beneath the counter and diligently recorded the items and their respective prices. After completing the bill, he handed a copy to the customer and provided a detailed breakdown, "The Philters of Paralyzed Minds are priced at 18 iron darbs each, Lunacy Potions at 38 iron darbs each, and Flasks of Steelskin at 1 gold coin each. The total comes to 1 gold coin, 1 silver coin, and 88 iron darbs."
The man took out a pouch and began counting the money. "So, are you just a clerk boy, or do you study?" he inquired, his gaze still fixed on the coins.
"No sir, I am currently attending the academy," Sam replied, understanding the importance of responding politely to someone who was spending a considerable amount of money.
"Oh, great, great," he remarked, looking back at Sam. "May the god of light be with you." He handed Sam the exact amount.
Sam carefully counted the coins before interjecting, "Wait, I'll pack these for you," he said, noticing that the man had absentmindedly started picking up the potions without waiting for them to be packed.
"No need," the man said, and the potions disappeared. "Space artifacts are quite great in these cases," he added, flashing his ring. After that, he looked back at Sam one last time and said, "I've got a message for Mr. Kinoya. Tell him that the 'Phoenix' has landed. He'll know what it means." With that, the man turned and headed towards the door, his black trench coat billowing as he left the store.
Sam stood there; a bit perplexed by the cryptic message. He watched as the man left, disappearing. The mention of the 'Phoenix' intrigued him, and he couldn't help but wonder what significance it held for Mr. Kinoya. As the door closed behind the mysterious customer, Sam's mind buzzed with curiosity.
After a moment of contemplation, Sam decided to take note of the message. He quickly scribbled it down on a piece of paper, planning to relay it to Mr. Kinoya once he returned. He tucked the note into a safe place, ready to share the message with the old alchemist. As the bell above the door chimed with the man's departure, Sam returned to his spot behind the counter.
After that, he decided to put aside the book and take a rest for some time, feeling the exhaustion that made him yawn. Sam sprawled out on the counter, embracing sleep without a care in the world.
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The mysterious figure perched on a moss-covered rock, situated in the heart of the Royal Basin Timberland. Towering trees with bark resembling ancient armor surrounded the area, their branches forming a dense canopy that allowed only fragments of sunlight to filter through, casting a gentle, dappled glow. The atmosphere was filled with the robust fragrance of moss, damp earth, and the sweet perfume of wildflowers.
Seated amidst the serene surroundings, the man meticulously cleaned his sword, coaxing a radiant silver glow from the blade. The handle, adorned with intricate carvings, whispered tales of long-forgotten battles. The rhythmic swish of the polishing cloth against the metal resonated through the tranquil forest, creating a soothing melody that harmonized with the gentle rustle of leaves swaying in the breeze.
Enveloped in a cloak that shrouded his identity, the man remained a mystery as shadows danced across his concealed features. Every deliberate movement exuded a practiced elegance, hinting at a level of skill and precision that marked him as an experienced warrior. The enigmatic aura surrounding him added to the allure, leaving an impression of a figure accustomed to navigating the complexities of battle.
Amidst the tranquility of the forest, a distant sound, the subtle crunch of footsteps on fallen leaves, caught the attention of the unidentified man. He stilled, honing his senses to focus on the approaching presence. Emerging from the dense foliage, a solitary figure carefully navigated the narrow trail. The sunlight played upon the gleaming armor and the hilt of a weapon secured at the newcomer's side.
Unfazed, the unidentified man continued the meticulous cleaning of his sword, the polished metal now reflecting the vibrant greenery that surrounded him. His concealed gaze remained fixed on the approaching figure, an intensity beneath the cloak of mystery. The forest, too, responded to the unfolding encounter, quieting in anticipation.
The man's hidden eyes, filled with a quiet determination, stayed focused on her, and the forest seemed to hold its breath in quiet anticipation. As the figure drew closer, the mysterious man halted his sword cleaning, his attention squarely on the enigmatic newcomer. In a composed yet curious manner, he asked, "Did you destroy the statue?" The air buzzed with unspoken questions, creating an atmosphere charged with intrigue.
As she drew near, the woman maintained a stoic silence, her steps purposeful and controlled. With proximity, the intricate details of her appearance became more apparent. Her clothing seamlessly merged with the forest's earthy tones, adorned in greens and browns. Stray dark strands of hair peeked out from under her hood, framing a face that exuded an enigmatic aura. Her eyes, a profound shade of emerald, conveyed a blend of resolve and unreadable depth.
As she stood face to face with the man, their eyes locked in a silent exchange, she finally broke the stillness. In response to his question, she nodded solemnly and uttered a single word, "Yes." The admission hung in the air, resonating with the weight of untold stories and hidden motives.
Wearing a faint smile, the man offered the woman a choice, presenting two possibilities before her. With a genteel manner, he asked, "Shall it be my hand or my sword?" His gesture conveyed a double invitation – one suggesting friendship and the other, an unspoken acknowledgment of the prospect of conflict.
A deep sigh, filled with thoughtful reflection, effortlessly slipped out from the woman's mouth. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man in front of her, unchanged by the unstoppable march of countless years. It served as a powerful sign of his enduring nature. Responding carefully to his question, she expressed her thoughts. The sound of her voice carried a mix of nostalgic longing and serious importance.
In a meaningful tone, she explained, "My husband has set out on a long journey to find you. You should understand what that implies."
The man maintained an unwavering gaze, countering her statement with a question of his own. "Nevertheless, that is his wish, not yours. What is it that you seek, Em?" His eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and understanding.
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