"First things first," Ivan said, gesturing toward a narrow shop tucked away from the bustling main street.
The faded sign above the door read, "Griffon's Vault—Artifacts and Antiquities." His tone carried a mix of nostalgia and practicality.
"This isn't one of those fancy artifact shops filled with modern enchantment tools. But if you're looking for reliable magic gear, this is the place. They've got everything from enchanted trinkets to relics from old wars. Who knows? You might find something unique. Rumor has it their ancestor was a royal craftsman."
Inside, the shop was a treasure trove of magical items. Shelves overflowed with artifacts of every kind: rings to amplify magic, cloaks imbued with stealth spells, and bracelets etched with runes for enhanced strength.
The air hummed faintly with the latent magic woven into the artifacts.
One particular item caught Cedar's eye—a modest yet meticulously crafted ring of mana regeneration. Unlike the more ostentatious artifacts displayed nearby, this one seemed practical, designed to subtly replenish mana over time.
Considering the growing demands on his magic reserves, it felt like an invaluable investment.
Next to it lay a bracelet of agility, its runes promising a minor but steady boost in reaction speed. As Cedar examined the items, the shopkeeper, an older man with sharp eyes, approached and began describing their functions and durability in detail.
After careful deliberation, Cedar decided on the ring. It wasn't flashy, but reliability mattered more than flair in the battles ahead.
With the shopkeeper's approval, he handed over 245 pounds—a reasonable price for the artifact—and left the store with his new acquisition secured.
Outside, Ivan glanced around the bustling streets with a faint smile. "It's strange," he remarked, his voice tinged with wistfulness. "Coming back here after so much time at the front… It feels like the city hasn't changed at all."
As the two wandered through the capital, Ivan pointed out landmarks from his youth—historical buildings, tucked-away alleys, and old haunts that spoke of a life Cedar could barely imagine. The tour offered Cedar a rare glimpse of peace amidst the chaos, a brief reprieve before war inevitably pulled him back.
By the second day, Cedar had made the most of his time. The city had given him a valuable artifact and a better sense of its intricate layout.
After Ivan finished showing him the more prominent parts of the capital, they agreed to explore separately, each seeking something personally meaningful.
Cedar's wandering eventually brought him to a dimly lit pawn shop nestled in a quiet corner of the city.
The place seemed like a relic itself, with shelves overflowing with an odd assortment of enchanted weapons, peculiar trinkets, and relics worn by time. Dust hung in the air, adding an almost mystical charm to the disorganized chaos.
"This shop's reputation precedes it," Cedar mused, recalling one of Ivan's playful anecdotes.
Supposedly, some guy had once stumbled upon a magical perfume here that enhanced the wearer's charm—unfortunately, only toward other men. The enchantment had been banned, and the perfume promptly confiscated, but the story lingered as a testament to the shop's bizarre treasures.
As Cedar's eyes scanned the shelves, a particular item caught his attention—a pair of goggles tucked between a set of rusted daggers and a cracked crystal orb.
These weren't ordinary riding goggles. Etched with faint runes along the frame, they pulsed faintly with ambient mana. The enchantment allowed the wearer to detect traces of mana within a 20-meter radius, making them invaluable for tracking magic users or uncovering concealed spells.
Unlike the military-issued magic radar Cedar carried—powerful but limited in flexibility and resource-heavy—these goggles absorbed mana from the surrounding environment to fuel their magic. They were efficient, reliable, and versatile. Cedar picked them up, turning them over in his hands, appreciating their craftsmanship.
"Practical," he muttered to himself, already considering their potential in the field. They felt like a natural extension of his growing arsenal, a tool that could tilt the odds in his favor when the unexpected inevitably arose.
Just as Cedar was about to purchase the goggles, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"Wait," Len's voice interrupted, firm yet intrigued. "There's something else here. Something far more useful for you."
Cedar froze, scanning the shop's chaotic displays. "Is it… the one-sided silver cross earring?" he asked, noticing the tarnished trinket tucked away in a corner glass case.
The earring's design was unremarkable, and yet, it exuded an inexplicable allure. Its dull surface seemed to repel attention, making it easy to overlook unless one deliberately sought it out.
Len's amusement was palpable. "Ah, so you've developed a sense for these things," he said, his tone almost approving. "Yes, that's the one. This earring has an enchantment tied to blood magic. It will heighten your awareness of blood flow around you—a critical step toward mastering your blood magic senses. I'll explain more in your dreams."
Without hesitation, Cedar nodded, pointing to both items. "I'll take the goggles and the earring," he said confidently, placing a handful of pounds on the counter.
The shopkeeper, a wiry man with a sharp eye for profit, glanced at Cedar, then at the items, and finally at his uniform.
His lips curled into a knowing smile. "The goggles are 150 pounds, and the earring will cost you 20. A total of 170 pounds," he declared with the practiced air of someone used to overpricing.
Cedar raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Fifty for the goggles, and you'll throw in the earring," he countered flatly.
"Ha! One hundred thirty," the shopkeeper shot back, his tone thick with mockery.
"Sixty."
"Don't insult me, boy. One twenty."
"Sixty-five, and we both know that's more than fair," Cedar replied, his voice firm but calm.
Back and forth they went, the exchange a practiced dance of negotiation. Unlike the Griffon's Vault, this pawn shop had no fixed prices—only inflated ones meant to test how much a customer was willing to pay.
For someone like Cedar, who had neither endless wealth nor the patience to be swindled, haggling was not just a skill—it was a necessity.
With quick wit and unwavering persistence, Cedar managed to whittle the price down to 75 pounds for both items.
The shopkeeper finally relented, grumbling under his breath as he counted the coins. "You drive a hard bargain," he muttered, sliding the goggles and the earring across the counter.
Cedar smirked faintly as he pocketed his new acquisitions. "And you still came out ahead," he replied, turning toward the door. The faint ring of the shop's bell marked his exit.
Both of them knew the truth: the shopkeeper had still made a profit. It was only a matter of how much.
Pawnbrokers often feigned disappointment to sway future customers, acting like reluctant victims of a shrewd deal. In reality, some sales could yield double the original value of an item, especially when dealing with enchanted goods. Cedar wasn't naive enough to believe otherwise, but he took solace in knowing he'd struck a fair balance.
Once outside, he examined his purchases. The goggles were sturdy, their enchantment faintly flickering as they absorbed ambient mana.
The cross earring, on the other hand, felt deceptively ordinary. But as he held it, he sensed a faint pulsing energy within—subtle yet unmistakable, like the rhythm of blood flowing through veins.
Len's voice echoed faintly in his mind. "Yes… This will serve you well." Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, Len's presence retreated, leaving Cedar alone with his thoughts.
Rejoining Ivan later that evening, Cedar couldn't help but feel a rare flicker of excitement, like a child with new toys.
Between the goggles and the earring, he had acquired tools with immense potential—each promising to make him stronger in the battles to come.