The bustling market of Darathor teemed with life, a tapestry of merchants, adventurers, and commoners filling the cobbled streets. The air was alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of coins, and the aroma of freshly baked bread mixed with the sharp scent of exotic spices.
Amanda, cloaked in a simple dark-gray hood, strode through the crowd with Eryndor and Fenris flanking her. Though she had disguised herself well, she remained cautious. Darathor was larger and far more connected than the remote towns she had passed through before. Nobles' spies or bounty hunters could easily lurk here.
"Where do we start?" Eryndor asked, his voice low as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd.
Amanda's gaze flicked to the various stalls, each one offering a range of goods—from weapons and armor to enchanted trinkets and ancient scrolls. Her crimson eyes, hidden beneath her hood, gleamed with purpose. "We need to prioritize: funds, knowledge, and resources. I'll handle the magic. Eryndor, look for work that pays without drawing attention."
"And me?" Fenris asked, his voice a low rumble in her mind through their growing telepathic link.
"You'll stay with me. Your presence will keep prying eyes at bay," Amanda replied with a faint smirk.
They split off, Amanda and Fenris weaving through the market lanes while Eryndor headed toward the notice board near the adventurers' guild. The sights and sounds around Amanda were overwhelming, yet she felt drawn to the potential hidden in the chaos.
She stopped at a stall displaying an assortment of books and scrolls. The merchant, a middle-aged man with graying hair and an inquisitive gaze, looked up. "Ah, a seeker of knowledge, I see. What can I interest you in? Grimoires? Spellcraft techniques? Ancient lore?"
Amanda leaned closer, her voice calm but firm. "Do you have anything on advanced elemental magic or rare affinities?"
The merchant raised a brow. "That's a tall order. Rare affinities and advanced magic aren't exactly common fare. Most buyers can't afford them—or lack the talent to use them."
She slipped a small pouch of coins onto the table, the clink of silver drawing his attention. "Perhaps this will jog your memory."
The man chuckled softly, pocketing the money. "Wait here." He rummaged through a chest behind the stall, eventually pulling out two leather-bound books and a scroll sealed with a faintly glowing sigil.
"This," he said, setting them down carefully, "is a treatise on hybrid elemental magic—how to combine basic elements for unique effects. And this one," he gestured to the second book, "covers theories on manipulating affinities like sound and shadow."
Amanda ignored the mention of shadow, focusing on the scroll. "And this?"
The merchant hesitated. "A relic from the old days. It's a spell, but I can't read the language. Likely elvish or draconic. Could be valuable—could be worthless."
Amanda picked up the scroll, sensing faint traces of mana woven into the parchment. It was ancient, no doubt, but its magical energy was intriguing. She nodded. "I'll take all three."
As the merchant packed the items, Fenris growled softly in warning. Amanda turned her head slightly, catching sight of a pair of men loitering nearby. Their armor bore the faint insignia of a noble house—one she recognized immediately.
"They're watching us," Fenris muttered.
Amanda's eyes narrowed. "We leave. Now."
Taking the package of books, she slipped back into the crowd with Fenris at her side, weaving through the throng to lose their tail. She turned down an alley, her senses alert for any sign of pursuit.
After several tense minutes, she emerged into a quieter part of the market. Eryndor was already there, waiting near a small inn with a folded notice in hand.
"Trouble?" he asked, noticing her expression.
"Potentially," Amanda replied. "What did you find?"
Eryndor held up the paper. "A job escorting a caravan to a nearby village. Decent pay, no questions asked. Perfect for laying low while earning coin."
Amanda nodded. "Take it. We'll regroup here tonight and leave first thing in the morning."
Eryndor hesitated. "What about you?"
She glanced at the package in her arms. "I need time to study these. There's power here—knowledge we'll need to survive."
Eryndor gave a curt nod before heading off toward the guild.
Inside their rented room at the inn, Amanda unrolled the scroll, her fingers brushing the intricate patterns etched into the parchment. The script was indeed foreign, but as she focused, the lines of text seemed to shift, aligning themselves into something she could understand.
The spell described within was ancient and powerful—a binding spell, one capable of sealing or restraining creatures of immense strength. But its requirements were steep, demanding not just mana but a sacrifice of the caster's own vitality.
Amanda's lips curled into a thoughtful smile. "Useful, but costly. Still, it's another tool."
Fenris lay near the door, his ears twitching. "Do you think those men will follow us out of the city?"
"If they do, they'll regret it," Amanda replied coldly. "Let them try."
Her focus shifted to the books, her hunger for knowledge driving her into the night. Every page she turned, every line she read, brought her closer to mastering the power she sought.
The nobles hunting her might have wealth and influence, but Amanda had something far greater—ambition and the will to wield it.