Sol and Darik weaved through the shifting streets of the city-ship, dodging floating platforms, animated advertisements, and the occasional hovering street vendor aggressively pushing deep-fried space mollusks. They arrived at a narrow alley wedged between two bioluminescent skyscrapers. A neon sign above the entrance flickered in an unknown language before shifting into something readable:
"AZURAN'S EMPORIUM – KNOWLEDGE, GOODS, AND LIQUID DEALS."
Sol raised an eyebrow. "Liquid deals?"
Darik smirked. "You'll see."
The entrance hissed open, revealing a dimly lit chamber lined with floating artifacts, strange containers, and shelves stacked with everything from mechanical parts to bottled lightning. At the center of it all was a shimmering, translucent body of water suspended in a massive cylindrical tank.
The liquid rippled unnaturally, forming shifting patterns that resembled an expression. A deep, resonant voice emanated from nowhere and everywhere at once.
"Darik of the Stonekin. You return, and you bring me something new."
Sol blinked. The merchant was literally a sentient puddle.
Darik crossed her arms. "Azuran, I got a fresh one for you. Kid's new to the stars, looking to get his bearings. Figured you could help… for a price."
Azuran's liquid mass twisted into a spiraling shape, as if studying Sol.
"Interesting. A fresh mind. A mind yet to be filled."
Sol wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
Darik stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Well, kid, that's my job done."
Sol frowned. "You're leaving already?"
She smirked. "Told you from the start—I'm not sticking around this madhouse. You'll be fine. Just keep that sharp mind of yours running, and don't get yourself killed, yeah?"
She turned to leave but paused, her expression growing serious. "And the egg, Sol. Don't forget about it."
The reminder hit him like a weight. It had been easy to get lost in the madness of the city-ship, but she was right—he had responsibilities now.
Sol inhaled deeply, nodding. "I won't forget."
For the first time in what felt like forever, he bowed, not out of necessity or deception, but genuine gratitude. "Thank you, Darik. For everything."
Darik just chuckled, crossing her arms. "Don't get all mushy on me now, kid. It's been fun."
She reached out, ruffling his already-messy black hair, then slung her pack over her shoulder. "Keep in touch. If you don't, I'll assume you got yourself eaten by some weird space creature, and I'll laugh about it over a drink."
With that, she turned and walked off into the neon-drenched streets, disappearing into the maze of shifting districts.
Sol watched her go, an odd feeling twisting in his chest. He had been alone for most of his life—but this parting felt different.
He wasn't losing something.
He was starting something new.
The silence that followed was brief, broken by the smooth, undulating voice of the liquid merchant.
"Fascinating. You humans express gratitude in peculiar ways."
Sol turned back to Azuran, finding the sentient water mass observing him with unreadable intent.
"She is a rare one, that Darik. Efficient. Uncomplicated." A slow ripple ran through his form. "Now, let us discuss business."
The walls of the store shifted subtly, revealing new displays—artifacts, trinkets, stacks of digital credit chips, and glowing memory orbs filled with recorded knowledge.
"I deal in three things, young traveler: goods, information, and opportunities. You do not yet seek opportunities, but the first two…" Azuran's form quivered in what might have been amusement. "Those, I believe, will interest you greatly."
Sol let out a slow breath, adjusting his stance. A moment ago, he had felt the loss of Darik's departure—but now, he had a new focus.
He stepped forward. "Alright. Let's trade."
Azuran's shimmering form pulsed lightly. "Knowledge and stories—both are currencies, yet one is priceless while the other fluctuates in value."
Sol raised an eyebrow. "You collect stories?"
The liquid mass coiled in a slow spiral. "I collect experiences, perspectives, fragments of moments that would otherwise be lost. The universe is vast, and history is often written by the loudest voices. I prefer the whispers."
Sol smirked. "So, you're a hoarder of forgotten truths."
A ripple of amusement ran through Azuran. "You understand quickly. Good. Now, tell me, young traveler, what stories do you carry?"
Sol considered. He had no money—at least not enough to make a dent here. But stories? He had plenty.
"How about something local?" He glanced around. "Ever heard of the slums of Galvaris Prime?"
Azuran stilled, then twisted into a slow, swirling vortex. "Galvaris Prime… a cesspool of rust and ambition. A place where survival is a craft, and those who thrive there are artisans of their own fates. Yes… I have heard of it. But I have never heard *your* story of it."
So Sol painted him a picture. He spoke of the gangs, the back-alley medics, the underground economy, and how he had once built a makeshift EMP disguised as a teddy bear. He told him of survival, of invention, of desperation that forged ingenuity.
Azuran remained utterly still, absorbing it all.
When Sol finally finished, the merchant's liquid shimmered silver for a brief moment before settling back to translucent blue. "A fascinating tale. Bleak, yet rich in texture."
A shelf behind Azuran clicked open, revealing a small holo-pad embedded with shifting data.
"For your story, I offer you one in return," Azuran said. "This city-ship is not unlike Galvaris Prime. It is merely larger, its rules written in different ink."
Sol took the pad, glancing over the shifting pathways. It wasn't just a map—it was a guide to the unspoken economy of the ship. The places where people like him—those who slipped between the cracks—thrived.
He tucked it into his jacket. "I think I like your way of doing business."
Azuran quivered with amusement. "Then perhaps we shall trade again."
Sol smirked. "I'll bring you a better story next time."
Azuran's liquid form pulsed as he gestured toward the open archway. "If information is what you seek, there is no better place than the Cosmic Drift. Knowledge flows through drinks and laughter here, whispered between the unwary and the wise alike."
Sol hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. "Thanks, Azuran. I appreciate it."
The merchant's liquid form rippled slightly, as if in acknowledgment. "Consider it a welcome gift, young traveler. Now go, and listen well."