The bell above the door chimed as Mav entered the shop. Inside, the walls were lined with shelves of various sizes, each holding an assortment of vials and bottles. The soft, golden light of a lantern hanging from the ceiling cast gentle shadows, giving the room a warm, cozy feel despite the tense atmosphere.
The shop was filled with a peculiar, tangy smell that Mav couldn't quite place. It was a mix of something earthy and something metallic, causing an odd sensation in his nostrils. The unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, hinting at the arcane and the scientific elements interwoven in the shop's offerings. To his left, a woman with long dark hair was bent over a counter, busy with some task.
"How can I help you?" she asked without turning around.
"Are you Ms. Ana?" Mav inquired, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
Ana wiped her hands on a rag before turning to Mav, her expression a mix of curiosity and weariness. Her blue cape, slightly worn at the edges, fluttered slightly with her movements, hinting at the many long hours she must have spent in the shop.
"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?"
Mav took in Ana's appearance: she wore glasses, had dark circles under her eyes, and her pale skin made her look like she was in her mid-twenties. Despite her tired look, she had a certain beauty about her.
"I was sent here to buy a high-tier mana potion," he said. "Archa recommended your shop."
"Archa, huh?" Ana's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. "What would a young man like you need a high-tier mana potion for? You don't look like someone who ventures into high-level areas."
Mav hesitated. He had hoped his story would be enough, but Ana's skeptical gaze made him rethink his approach.
"I was just sent here on an errand," he said, sticking to his lie.
Ana's expression remained unconvinced. "I doubt anyone would trust something as crucial as buying a high-tier mana potion to just anyone."
Mav considered showing her Organos' letter, but quickly dismissed the idea. The head priest had no reason to be involved in this transaction.
"Here," he said, pulling out three gold coins. "This should be enough, right?"
Ana's eyebrows shot up. "Where did you get that, kid?"
"It's from my father. I'm the son of a noble, and this is my allowance for the week. I planned to level up my skills with stronger flame users, but they advised me to get mana potions as well. That's why I came to your shop," he explained, though it was a fabrication.
Ana studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Sorry, kid, but three gold coins won't be enough. Each high-tier mana potion costs four gold coins."
Mav's heart sank. He had hoped to afford at least one potion, but he was falling short despite Organos' help.
"What am I going to do now?" he wondered. "Should I use my Dark Blue Miracle as leverage? But I'd rather keep it a secret."
"I can pay you the remaining gold in a few days," he offered. "Here, take these three gold coins as a deposit. I'll bring the extra gold once I get my allowance next week."
Ana shook her head. "I'm sorry, but we don't accept deposits. You need to pay in full."
Frustration gripped Mav. He glanced at the shelf in front of him, lined with bottles emitting a bright blue glow. A desperate thought crossed his mind: "Should I just steal one? I could probably outrun the guards." But he quickly dismissed it. "Don't be an idiot," he scolded himself.
"What am I going to do?" he thought, his frustration mounting.
"I could work as your assistant until I pay you back," he suggested, trying to offer something in exchange.
Ana shook her head again. "I'm not looking for any assistants right now."
"I have to try something," Mav thought.
"I can help with healing," he said, hoping to leverage his skills.
"What's your Blue Flame Affinity?" Ana asked, her tone skeptical.
"Five," Mav replied, barely above a whisper.
Ana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Five? That wouldn't even heal a scratch. Plus, you need to be registered with the Blue Flame Guild to work officially as a healer. You're not wearing our guild cape."
Mav's mind raced as he tried to think of a solution. He felt a pang of anxiety in his chest, the kind that came from realizing just how out of his depth he was. His palms were sweaty, and he clenched his fists to steady himself.
"I have a healing skill that might be useful," he insisted, growing frustrated.
Ana's eyes briefly softened with sympathy, but she quickly masked it with a professional demeanor. She picked up a vial from the counter and examined it closely, avoiding Mav's gaze to hide her conflicted emotions.
"Look, just go home and come back when you have enough money. I'm busy with work," she said, gesturing to an unfilled bottle on her counter.
Mav's frustration started to reach a boiling point. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling voice.
"Look, I can prove it to you," he said, raising his hand and commanding, "Display Status."
A translucent screen appeared in front of him, listing his skills and flame affinities. He pointed to the section that highlighted his healing skill.
Ana glanced at the screen with mild interest but quickly shook her head. "I've seen many status displays before. Just because it shows your skills doesn't mean you're capable of using them effectively."
"But you don't understand," Mav insisted, his voice rising. "I have a healing skill that could be useful, even if my affinity is low. Just give me a chance to show you."
Ana sighed, rubbing her temples. "You said it yourself, your Blue Flame Affinity is only five. That's barely enough to heal a scratch, let alone heal anything significant."
"So, you really won't believe me?" Mav asked, his patience wearing thin.
Ana didn't respond. Instead, she stood up and opened the door, signaling the end of their conversation.
Frustration mounted within Mav, his thoughts racing as he struggled to find a solution. He glanced around the shop, noting the neatly arranged vials and the soft glow of the lantern, which seemed to mock his predicament. Desperation clawed at him, and his gaze fell upon the small knife strapped to his belt. A dangerous idea began to form. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his decision. With a trembling hand, he reached for the knife, each movement slow and deliberate, as if trying to gauge the gravity of his actions. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing his growing desperation.