The town buzzed with activity as Amanda, Eryndor, and Fenris walked through the bustling market streets. The anonymity they had gained in this town brought Amanda some relief, but her mind never stopped scheming. Every face in the crowd became a potential threat or pawn. The world had taught her one lesson above all others—trust was a luxury, and power was the only currency that mattered.
Beneath her hood, Amanda's crimson eyes scanned the lively streets, her focus shifting between the vendors hawking their wares and the armed guards patrolling the area. The nobles' reach was vast, but the bustling chaos of this larger town provided her with the perfect cover to hide in plain sight. For now.
"Do we really need to be here?" Eryndor muttered, his tone edged with concern. "We've gotten supplies, coin, and the books you wanted. Lingering only increases the chance of being found."
"Relax," Amanda replied coolly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're not done. There's more to this town than cheap goods and novice spell scrolls." She paused, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "I need knowledge—real knowledge—and I know just where to find it."
Fenris let out a low growl in agreement, his massive form drawing wary glances from passersby. The wolf had become Amanda's constant shadow, a silent enforcer of her will. Together, they made their way through a narrow alley, leaving behind the cheerful clamor of the market.
At the end of the alley stood a small, decrepit building, its sign hanging askew. Faint runes etched into the wood flickered weakly, almost imperceptible to those without magical sensitivity. Amanda's eyes narrowed.
"An underground magic broker," she explained to Eryndor, who looked skeptical.
"Are you sure this is worth the risk?" he asked.
Amanda glanced over her shoulder, her expression icy. "Do you want to be useful, or do you want to keep whining?"
Eryndor fell silent, following her inside.
The air within the shop was heavy with the scent of burning incense and old parchment. Dim light illuminated shelves crammed with ancient tomes, glowing crystals, and scrolls sealed with wax. Behind the counter sat an elderly man, his back hunched and his gnarled hands sorting through a pile of rune-inscribed artifacts. He looked up as they entered, his milky eyes studying Amanda with unsettling intensity.
"A seeker of secrets," he rasped, his voice like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "What brings you to my humble establishment?"
Amanda stepped forward, lowering her hood just enough to reveal her striking crimson gaze. "I need knowledge—rare affinities, forbidden spells, or clues about ancient ruins. Something worth my time."
The broker's lips curled into a crooked smile, his greed almost palpable. "Ambitious, are you? Such knowledge doesn't come cheap. What can you offer in return?"
Amanda reached into her cloak and pulled out a pouch of gold coins, tossing it onto the counter. "This is just the beginning. Give me something useful, and I'll make it worth your while."
The broker's bony fingers clawed at the pouch, opening it to inspect its contents. Satisfied, he nodded and disappeared into the back room. The sound of shuffling papers and clinking artifacts echoed faintly before he returned, carrying a dusty, leather-bound book.
"This," he said, placing it on the counter with reverence, "contains the location of a ruin tied to a long-forgotten civilization. Dangerous, yes—but power and danger often go hand in hand."
Amanda's fingers brushed the book's surface, and she felt a faint pulse of magic. A smile tugged at her lips. "Perfect." She slid the gold across the counter, her eyes never leaving the broker's face. "If this is a waste of my time, I'll be back. And you won't like the consequences."
The broker's smile faltered. "Understood."
Before Amanda could leave, the shop door creaked open, and a group of men entered. They were rough-looking mercenaries, their leather armor worn but functional. The leader, a scarred brute with a cruel smirk, stepped forward and pointed at Amanda.
"That's her," he said. "She's been asking too many questions about rare magic. Hand over the book and anything else you've got, and maybe we'll let you leave in one piece."
Amanda raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You think you can threaten me?"
The leader's smirk widened. "You're outnumbered. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Eryndor tensed, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, but Amanda held up a hand to stop him. She stepped forward, her aura flaring subtly, just enough to make the air around her feel heavy.
"You have no idea who you're dealing with," she said coldly. "Leave now, and I'll spare your miserable lives."
The leader barked a laugh. "Spare us? You're just a little girl hiding behind a pet wolf and a hired sword. Kill her."
The men charged, but Amanda was faster. With a flick of her wrist, crimson tendrils of energy erupted from her hand, coiling around one of the attackers and lifting him off the ground. His screams filled the shop as the tendrils tightened, crushing him with a sickening crunch.
Fenris lunged at another man, his jaws locking onto the mercenary's throat. Blood sprayed across the floor as the wolf tore into his prey. Eryndor engaged the third attacker, his sword flashing in the dim light as he parried and countered with precision.
The leader hesitated, his confidence wavering as he watched his men fall. Amanda turned her gaze on him, her smile chilling.
"Running already?" she taunted. "Pathetic."
He drew his weapon, desperation in his eyes, but Amanda didn't give him the chance to strike. A spike of crimson energy shot from her hand, impaling him through the chest and pinning him to the wall. He gasped, blood pooling at his lips as Amanda approached.
"You dared to threaten me," she said softly, her tone laced with malice. "Now, you'll serve as an example."
She extended her hand, dark energy flowing into the man's body. His screams were short-lived as his flesh withered, leaving behind a hollow, lifeless husk.
Eryndor wiped blood from his blade, his face pale. "Was that really necessary?"
Amanda turned to him, her expression unreadable. "Mercy is a weakness I can't afford. Dead enemies can't seek revenge."
The broker cowered behind the counter, his face ashen. "Take what you need and go. I want no part of this."
Amanda gave him a cold smile. "Smart choice." She tucked the book into her cloak and gestured for Eryndor and Fenris to follow her.
Back on the bustling streets, Amanda moved with purpose, her mind already calculating her next steps. The ruin described in the book could hold immense power, and she intended to claim it, no matter the cost.
Eryndor broke the silence, his voice cautious. "You're growing... darker. Is this really the path you want to take?"
Amanda didn't look at him as she replied, her tone sharp. "This is the only path. Kindness won't get me what I need. Strength, cunning, and fear—that's how you survive in this world."
Fenris growled in agreement, his bloodstained fur a stark reminder of Amanda's resolve.
As they disappeared into the crowd, Amanda's mind churned with plans. The blood spilled today was only the beginning. Her enemies would learn that crossing her came at a price—and she was more than willing to pay it in blood.