About an hour later this nymph led me through the winding streets of Cresthaven and I couldn't help but marvel at the architecture and that nice tropical wind.
The cobblestone pathways echoed with the footsteps of residents and visitors alike, while vibrant flowers cascaded from window boxes, infusing the air with their sweet fragrance.
"So I gotta ask, what kind of nymph are you?"
The girl turned back at me, as she moved her dark green dreadlocks from her face. "I am one of the Meliae, a nymph of the Fraxinus nigra tree. Uh, it is also called the Black Ash."
"So, what should I call you then?"
"Fraxinus Nigra the Black Ash." She responded proudly.
"I'll stick with, Fraxy." I deadpanned.
"Okay!" She grinned.
We continued our walk as she gestured to various landmarks as we walked, sharing stories and historical tidbits along the way.
"Adrian, allow me to introduce you to the Agora," Fraxy said, leading me to a bustling marketplace at the heart of the city. Stalls were adorned with colorful fabrics, artisan crafts, and enticing culinary delights. The air buzzed with the voices of vendors hawking their wares and the excited chatter of shoppers.
"Here, you can find a treasure trove of goods, from delicacies fit for the gods to handcrafted souvenirs," She explained
"So it is like a flea market," I responded. "Or a type of fair."
"I suppose?" She shrugged. "Though I don't know what those are."
As we strolled along, we encountered a temple, its grandeur and imposing presence commanding reverence. Fraxy explained that it served as a place of worship and intellectual discourse, where scholars and thinkers gathered to seek inspiration and guidance.
Our tour also brought us to tranquil gardens, adorned with the statues of the Olympians, their serene beauty enhancing the serenity of the surroundings.
Fraxy guided me to a charming café tucked away on a narrow street. We settled at a table adorned with fresh flowers and enjoyed a cup of fragrant Jasmine tea while soaking in the ambiance of the lively city. This really felt nice, I could really enjoy living here.
"So about the money you guy's use?"
Fraxy smiled, brushing a lock of her emerald-green hair behind her ear as she leaned back in her chair. "Ah, the Ardents! It's what we use for just about everything here in Ogygia," she began, her eyes bright as she spoke.
"We've got Golden Ardents," she explained, tracing the edge of her cup absentmindedly. "They're the highest denomination. Royal transactions, land, estates, that kind of thing—those use Golden Ardents. The coin has the current Empress or Emperor's face on one side, and on the other, there's usually a dragon or the Colossus of Rhodes. Only the wealthiest or the nobility handle those regularly."
I nodded, picturing the golden coins clinking in royal vaults or sliding across a grand table in some noble's estate.
"But most people don't deal in those," Fraxy continued, tilting her head with a slight smirk. "We use Silver Ardents for bigger purchases—like if you're buying a new boat or trading for some rare enchanted goods. They've got the royal crest on one side, and on the other, well, it depends. Sometimes you'll see a pegasus or a ship, something symbolizing Ogygia's power and prosperity."
"And what about the everyday stuff?" I asked, genuinely curious now. "What would I need to get a meal or supplies?"
"Ah, the Bronze Ardents!" Fraxy said, snapping her fingers with a playful smile. "That's what you'll be handling the most. Bronze Ardents are for your day-to-day things—buying bread, clothes, a nice cup of tea like this." She lifted her cup in a small salute. "These coins have all sorts of designs. You might see Ogygian architecture, tropical birds, or even palm trees. They're a lot more varied than the others."
She paused for a moment, her eyes thoughtful as if remembering something. "Sometimes they mint special Ardents to commemorate royal events—coronations, weddings, important historical dates. Some folks keep those as good luck charms, especially if they're enchanted."
I swirled the tea in my cup, thinking about the vast world behind these coins, their weight not just in value, but in history and tradition. "And all of this is controlled by the Pendragons?"
"Of course," Fraxy replied, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. "No one else would dare mint Ardents. The royal family keeps a close eye on the currency—it's their way of ensuring order. Plus, who wouldn't want their face on a coin?"
I chuckled. "I'm not sure I'd want mine on one."
Fraxy leaned forward, her hand disappearing into the small satchel at her side. She pulled out a simple leather coin purse and placed it on the table between us with a light thud. "Here," she said, pushing it toward me. "This is for you."
I raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to make of it. "What's this for?"
She flashed me a grin. "A welcome gift. It's something we give to any new outsider to help them get on their feet for a few days."
I picked up the purse and felt the weight of it in my hand—solid, but not overly heavy. Opening it up, I saw a small pile of shimmering coins inside: a few Bronze Ardents and one or two Silver Ardents. Enough to get by, but not enough to draw attention.
"Thanks," I said, glancing up at her. "So this is...what, starter money?"
Fraxy chuckled. "Something like that. Don't worry, it's not charity. Think of it as a way for us to make sure you're not completely lost while you figure things out here in Ogygia. This'll cover meals, a place to sleep, and maybe a couple of small things you might need."
I thumbed through the coins, feeling the texture of the engraved symbols beneath my fingers—the royal crest, a pegasus, a palm tree. Simple, yet intricate. I closed the purse and tied it to my belt, feeling a little more grounded in this strange new place.
"You'll be fine," she said with a wink. "Just don't spend it all in one place, well, I'll have to cut the tour short. I need to get back to my tree before I end up expiring."
"Alright, thanks alot for the tour and the coins." I called as she ran off, as I finished my tea and thanked the waiter before leaving the little shop. "I am going to need to find a place to stay."
☉☉☉
I walked around the streets and found myself back at the Agora, and after a while I found myself drawn to a stall tucked away in a corner.
The stall's table and walls were adorned with gleaming swords of every shape and size. This dwarven elderly man looked up at me and grinned.
"Behold, kid, the finest blades in all of Ogygia," he declared proudly, gesturing to his array of weapons. "Each one forged with skill and passion, my finest made blades."
I couldn't deny the allure of the swords, each one seeming to be whispering as if begging me to buy them. But as my eyes settled on a particularly exquisite longsword, the swordsmith's voice broke through my thinking.
"This one, young sir, is the jewel of my collection," he said, his eyes gleaming with pride. "Forged from the finest Aetherium Steel, Falor Hephestus himself helped me to craft this blade, though better hurry who knows who will take the chance to buy it!"
"I'm sorry but who are you?" I asked the dwarf.
"The name is Brokkr Falor Brokkr! And I am one of the best blacksmiths in this world. I can craft anything you need at all."
"Your name is Brokkr and you're the successor of Brokkr the Norse blacksmith god?"
"Yeah, my father wanted to make sure that I followed in that guy's footsteps." Brokkr shrugged. "Luckily I love being a blacksmith so I had no problem becoming a Falor."
"Right…" I hesitated, the sword's craftsmanship was undeniable, but something held me back. For some reason I had a really bad feeling about this.
"I'm afraid I must decline, Sir," I said apologetically, offering a respectful nod. "As tempting as your offer is, I am not really in the market for a sword."
"Well if you ever change your mind, I will be here." The swordsmith's disappointment was palpable, but he nodded understandingly as I took one last look, my attention was drawn to a barrel in the corner, filled with old, forgotten swords. Among the neglected weapons, one caught my eye.
It was barely visible under the pile, its hilt poking out from the heap like a ghost of forgotten glory. I reached in, pulling it free, and as I did, the weight of the sword felt heavier than expected, like it carried with it centuries of history. The blade, though dulled with age and covered in rust, still had a faint shimmer in the low light of the forge. The grip was cracked, wrapped in ancient, faded leather, and the pommel bore a faded emblem, unrecognizable now but once meaningful. This sword had seen battle, and perhaps, like me, it had been forgotten—until now.
"Buy that blade now!" Khaleus spoke up out of nowhere.
"You want me to buy this garbage?" I asked him quietly
"Trust me, boy. You won't regret it." He urged.
I turned the sword over in my hands, inspecting its worn blade. "How much for this one?"
Brokkr scratched his chin, a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That old rust bucket? Honestly, I'm surprised anyone's even askin'. How 'bout... five silvers?"
"Five silvers?" I raised an eyebrow. It was a fraction of what I'd expected, but the sword seemed like it had potential.
"Aye, just take it off my hands," Brokkr shrugged. "Been sittin' in that corner for longer than I care to remember. Truth be told, I'll be glad to make room for somethin' shinier."
I glanced down at the sword again. Its weight felt good, maybe there was more to it than he or I knew, Khaleus did seem really adamant that I got it. "Deal."
The blacksmith shrugged and took the coins and helped me wrap the sword in a cloth, handing it over, after I thanked him I left as I felt my stomach rumble. "Ugh Ireally should get some food."
I walked to the nearest food stall, and saw so many different types of gyro's. I got one pork and another made with waffles, ice cream and cake. With a satisfied grin, I indulged in the savory delight, savoring each mouthful as I walked down the streets as it got darker out and the lights were turned on.
The Agora had many lights hanging from the different stalls. The rhythmic bustling of the marketplace, the laughter of children playing, it all was just so relaxing.
The sun had just started to set when I found the inn. It was a modest place, tucked away on a quieter street, its wooden sign swaying gently in the evening breeze. I pushed the door open, and the smell of roasting meat and fresh bread greeted me warmly. The common room was simple but cozy, with a few patrons gathered at tables, murmuring over their meals.
I approached the counter where the innkeeper, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a graying beard, was polishing a tankard. He looked up as I entered and gave me a welcoming nod.
"Evening," I said, leaning on the counter. "Do you have a room for the night?"
"Aye, we do," he replied, setting the tankard down. "It's three silvers for a bed, and if you want dinner, that'll be extra silver. Comes with breakfast in the mornin'."
"Sounds fair," I said, fishing the coins from my pouch. "I'll take it."
He handed me a key with a small wooden tag. "Name's Ariston. Your room's upstairs, second door on the right. Supper will be ready in a few minutes. Find a seat, and I'll bring it out."
I thanked him and chose a table near the hearth. It wasn't long before Ariston returned with a plate of roast meat, thick slices of bread, and a steaming bowl of vegetable stew. As I dug in, the warmth of the food settled me, and I realized just how hungry I was after the day's events.
A soft voice interrupted my thoughts. "Would you care for some spanakopita?"
I looked up to see a woman, likely Ariston's wife, standing beside me with a plate of what looked like a pastry. Her eyes were kind, and she smiled warmly as she held out the dish.
"Spanakopita?" I asked, unfamiliar with the word.
"It's a savory pie," she explained, her accent lilting pleasantly. "Made with spinach, cheese, and flaky pastry. My name's Helena, by the way."
I hesitated for a second, then took a piece. "Thank you." As I bit into it, the layers of pastry melted in my mouth, the spinach and cheese perfectly seasoned. I blinked, surprised at how much I enjoyed it. "This is incredible."
Helena smiled, clearly pleased. "I'm glad you like it. Let me know if you want more."
I nodded eagerly, taking another bite. "I might just have to take you up on that."
After finishing the last of my meal, I stood and thanked Ariston and Helena for their hospitality. They waved me off with warm smiles as I made my way up the narrow staircase, the wooden steps creaking beneath my boots.
The room was small but comfortable, with a sturdy oak bed pushed against one wall and a single window overlooking the street below. The floor was made of rough-hewn planks, worn smooth by years of use, and a simple rug lay at the bedside. A wooden chest sat in the corner, probably for storing belongings, and a washbasin rested on a table beside a small mirror, its glass slightly warped from age. The air smelled faintly of lavender, perhaps from the dried sprigs tucked into the windowsill.
I dropped my bag and sword onto the floor with a heavy thud, feeling the weight of the day lifting from my shoulders. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I ran a hand through my hair, then leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. The mattress was firm, but after days on the road, it felt like luxury.
As I lay there, my thoughts wandered. The sword I had found, Brokkr's words, the warmth of Helena's spanakopita... Everything about this day had been unexpected. Yet, something about it felt right, like a shift in the path I was meant to walk. I stared at the ceiling a little longer, letting my mind drift. Tomorrow will come soon enough.