Two days after reconnecting with the inn's guardian, a strange visitor arrived. Mikel was in the main hall when the door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. He was a tall, slender man with sharp features, his dark robes embroidered with shimmering threads that seemed to shift in the light.
"Welcome to the inn," Mikel said cautiously. "How can I help you?"
The man smiled, but there was something unnerving about it. "Ah, Keeper," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I've traveled far to visit this renowned sanctuary. My name is Veylin, and I am a purveyor of rare goods and forbidden knowledge."
Naira and Dorian entered the hall, their weapons ready but concealed. They exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to stay alert.
"What kind of goods?" Mikel asked, his tone neutral.
Veylin spread his arms, his robe glinting as if filled with stars. "Artifacts, potions, tomes of ancient spells—treasures from realms both near and far. But what I offer is not merely objects. I deal in possibilities, Keeper. Opportunities for power, for protection, for... control."
Mikel's pendant pulsed faintly, warning him of Veylin's presence. "Why come here? What do you want in return?"
Veylin chuckled, his eyes glinting like polished obsidian. "You misunderstand. I am not here to take—I am here to give. Your inn is unique, a nexus unlike any other. I wish to establish a mutually beneficial relationship. My wares could strengthen your defenses, aid your companions, perhaps even offer insights into the Rift itself."
Dorian stepped forward, his sword clinking softly. "And what's the catch? Someone like you doesn't just give without expecting something in return."
Veylin's smile widened. "Ah, a perceptive one. True, I operate on exchange. But I am no thief or trickster. My terms are always clear. If you are wary, you need not buy anything... this time."
Naira frowned. "And if we don't deal with you at all?"
Veylin's expression darkened slightly. "I assure you, my presence is not a threat. But others—less civilized than I—may not give you such options. Consider this a gesture of goodwill, Keeper. Refuse if you must, but know that opportunity rarely knocks twice."
Mikel studied the merchant, his instincts telling him that while Veylin might not be an immediate threat, his motives were far from pure. "Show me what you have," he said finally.
Veylin's grin returned. He snapped his fingers, and a table appeared, covered with items that pulsed with faint energy. "Take your time, Keeper. I have all the time in the world."
The table was an overwhelming display of power. There were daggers with glowing runes etched into their blades, vials of shimmering liquid, and books that seemed to hum with energy. But one item drew Mikel's attention immediately: a small, black mirror set in a silver frame.
"What's this?" Mikel asked, pointing to it.
Veylin picked up the mirror with care, his fingers gliding over its surface. "Ah, the Shadowglass. It allows the user to peer into other realms, to see threats and opportunities before they arrive. A priceless tool for one in your position."
Naira stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "And what's the downside? Something like that always has one."
Veylin inclined his head. "The Shadowglass requires focus and willpower. It shows the truth, but sometimes the truth is... unpleasant. Not all can handle what they see. But I sense the Keeper might have the fortitude to wield it."
Mikel felt the pendant around his neck grow warm, as if warning him. "And what would you want for it?"
Veylin's smile turned sly. "Nothing you would miss. A single memory—one of no consequence to you."
Naira's hand shot out, grabbing Veylin's wrist. "No deal. Memories aren't 'nothing.' They're who we are."
Veylin didn't resist, simply raising an eyebrow. "You wound me with your mistrust. But very well, if the Shadowglass is too steep a price, there are other items."
Dorian frowned, his gaze on a sword with a jagged blade. "What about that?"
"Ah, the Blade of Mourning," Veylin said, releasing the mirror and gesturing to the weapon. "A weapon forged from the remnants of a fallen star. It cuts through shadow like sunlight. A worthy tool for a warrior such as yourself."
"And the cost?" Dorian asked.
"A drop of your blood," Veylin replied smoothly. "Simple, clean, and hardly dangerous."
"No way," Naira said, glaring at Veylin. "You don't just give blood to someone like him."
Mikel raised a hand, silencing the argument. "Enough. Veylin, we need time to think. Your offers are... tempting, but we're not making any decisions now."
Veylin nodded, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. "Take all the time you need, Keeper. I am a patient man. I'll remain at the inn for the night—consider it my pleasure to enjoy your hospitality."
As Veylin retreated to a guest room, Naira turned to Mikel. "You can't trust him. He's playing us."
"I know," Mikel said, his voice calm but firm. "But he's also offering things we might need. We'll keep our guard up, but let's see what he does next."
Dorian crossed his arms. "If he tries anything, I'll make sure he regrets it."
Mikel nodded, though his mind was already racing. Veylin was a wildcard, and his arrival raised more questions than answers. The merchant had brought danger with him, but he might also hold the key to understanding the threats they faced.
For now, all they could do was wait and see what the morning would bring.