Lynna paused briefly and then retraced her steps to Madam Arvelle's stall. A particular glint had caught her eye, and she realized it was emanating from the merchant's wife's necklace.
"Madam Arvelle," Lynna inquired, trying to keep her tone casual, "that is a stunning piece you're wearing. May I ask where you acquired it?"
Madam Arvelle touched the pendant with a hand, her fingers caressing the unusual black necklace. A fleeting expression of delight, maybe even greed, crossed her face. "Ah, this? A recent acquisition. It's a work of pure obsidian surrounding a diamond. Quite a piece, isn't it? My husband managed to negotiate this with a traveling merchant for... quite a deal."
Lynna nodded thoughtfully. She pondered whether the extravagant jewelry was linked to the village's recent transformations. Her memories from four years ago felt like wisps of smoke; tangible, yet elusive. The necklace, with its bold contrast of dark and light, seemed more suited to a noble court than to a village marketplace.
As she made her way through the market, Lynna reflected on how much the village had changed – or perhaps, how much she hadn't noticed before. Her own home had remained largely the same, cozy and familiar. Maybe that's why she hadn't recognized the broader progress.
Stopping abruptly in the middle of the road, she lost herself in recent memories. Had the fields of her farm always stretched so far, or had her family acquired more lands in her absence? Did her family always have so much work? She remembered the laughter of her younger brother, the two of them chasing each other. The livestock seemed also more abundant now. But back when she was thirteen, her world had revolved around games and the pages of her beloved books. She didn't bother counting the sheep or helping with the farm work.
Deep in thought, Lynna was suddenly brought back to reality by a sharp push. A man hurried past her, his rapid footsteps matching the quickening of her heartbeat. Instinctively, Lynna reached for her pouch and felt the void. Her coins, her identification as a mage from the Academy – all were gone.
Her gaze darted around, catching only the fading silhouette of the man who had cutpursed her. A pang of anger and helplessness welled up. Not only had the village changed in appearance, but it seemed its very soul had shifted too. "Daylight banditry, part of progress, I guess," she muttered, initiating a chase.