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Chapter 32 to 43 Already there!
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The morning sun bathed the village in a soft golden light as James and Ofelia made their way through the bustling streets. The morning air carried the scent of freshly baked bread and the faint metallic tang from the blacksmith's forge. Ofelia walked quietly beside James, her new black cloak draped over her shoulders, its hood resting lightly against her back. She seemed more at ease with the added layer of anonymity the cloak provided.
"Are you sure the repairs will be ready?" Ofelia asked, glancing up at James as they neared the shop.
James nodded. "Redan said it'd be done by today. Knowing him, he's probably made it better than it was before. If nothing else, Mira will make sure of it." he said with a smile.
They arrived at the combined weapon and armor shop owned by the bickering duo, Redan and Mira. The wooden sign above the door creaked slightly in the breeze, the letters painted in bold, proud strokes: Redan & Mira's Emporium.
The familiar sound of heated debate reached their ears even before they stepped inside.
"I'm telling you, reinforcement plates aren't enough. He needs better flexibility to attack, not just durability!" Mira's voice rang out, sharp and insistent.
"And I'm telling you, if the plates aren't strong enough, flexibility won't matter because he'll be dead!" Redan shot back, his tone equally fiery.
James pushed open the door, the bell above jingling. Both Redan and Mira turned to face him, their argument momentarily paused.
"Ah, there he is!" Redan exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face. "You're just in time. Your chest piece is ready, and I'll have you know, it's better than ever."
Mira rolled her eyes but offered a small smile. "He's not lying. We made a few adjustments to improve the fit and mobility. Go ahead, try it on."
Redan fetched the leather vest from behind the counter, holding it up with obvious pride. The vest gleamed in the light, the reinforced leather polished and well-conditioned. The adjustments were subtle but thoughtful: additional straps for a snug fit, slight curvature changes to better accommodate movement, and reinforced stitching along the edges.
James took the vest, running his fingers over the supple leather. "It looks incredible," he said sincerely. "Thank you both."
"Don't thank us until you've tried it on," Mira said, gesturing to the fitting area.
With Ofelia's help, James donned the leather vest. The adjustments were immediately noticeable. It fit snugly without feeling restrictive, and the improved flexibility was evident as he tested a few basic movements.
"This is perfect," James said, turning to face the duo. "You've outdone yourselves."
Redan crossed his arms, clearly pleased. "Told you. No one knows armor like I do."
"No one argues about armor like you do, that's for sure," Mira muttered, though there was a hint of fondness in her tone.
James chuckled, shaking his head. "Thanks again. This will make a huge difference."
As they left the shop, Ofelia glanced at James, her curiosity evident. "What now?" she asked.
James adjusted the strap on his newly repaired armor, his mind already working through the possibilities. "Let's head to the Adventurer's Guild first. We need to make sure that someone is going there through the portal before heading to Edima's market next."
Ofelia nodded, her emerald eyes glinting with a mix of anticipation and caution. The path ahead promised new opportunities, and for the first time, she felt like she might be ready to face them.
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They made their way to the Adventurer's Guild, arriving near to find the bustling atmosphere alive with chatter and activity. But before entering the guild, Ofelia had adjusted her cloak to ensure her features were concealed, the hood casting a subtle shadow over her face.
Once inside the large hall, as always the place was filled with adventurers examining quest boards, merchants negotiating quest with the clerks, and other clerks sorting paperwork at various desks in the background. James took a moment to absorb the scene before heading straight to the counter, where the same receptionist from the previous day stood, busily scribbling notes into a ledger.
James approached with a polite nod. "Good morning. Would it be possible to arrange a portal to Edima?"
The receptionist looked up and returned his greeting with a courteous smile. "Good morning to you as well. You mentioned traveling to Edima yesterday, and I believe I spoke with an adventurer who might be able to help. Please allow me a moment to check if they're still available."
She gestured toward the seating area nearby. "Feel free to take a seat while I verify their availability."
James and Ofelia moved to a free table and sit on a pair of sturdy wooden chairs near the counter, their eyes scanning the lively guild as they waited. Nearby, a group of adventurers animatedly recounted their latest exploits, their voices a blend of pride and laughter that carried through the hall. The rhythmic clink of weapons being adjusted and the shuffle of armored boots on the wooden floor created a constant hum of activity.
The air was thick with the earthy scent of sweat mingled with the sharper, familiar aromas of ink, parchment, and faint traces of oil used to maintain gear. The vibrant atmosphere was both energizing and slightly overwhelming, a testament to the guild's ceaseless activity.
After a while, the receptionist returned with a purposeful stride. "The adventurer I mentioned is here and ready to assist. They'll be with you shortly to discuss the transport details." She gave them a reassuring nod before returning to her desk, leaving James and Ofelia to prepare for their meeting.
A few minute later, an adventurer arrived and introduced himself as Wilburt, to James and Ofelia with a friendly but professional demeanor. The man sturdy frame, slightly worn armor, and confident manner spoke of years of experience on the road.
"Ah, you must be James," Wilburt said with a warm smile. "The receptionist mentioned you needed transport to Edima?"
James nodded, wasting no time. "Yes. What's the cost for transport?"
Wilburt's smile remained steady as he replied. "The standard rate for this distance is two silver coins per person." His tone was clear and professional, putting James at ease.
"That's fair," James replied. "We also plan to return to Trudid this evening. Would it be possible to arrange transport back as well?"
Wilburt tilted his head thoughtfully. "Convenient timing. I'll be in Edima the whole day today for some business. If you'd like, I can escort you back for the same rate"
Relieved, James gave a small smile. "That works perfectly. I'll pay for the trip to Edima now, and we can settle the return fee this evening."
James handed over the coins, which Wilburt pocketed deftly. "Alright then, follow me," the adventurer said, leading them to a designated wall in the guild's main hall.
The wall was smooth and reinforced with intricate carvings that seem to pulsed with energy. James couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship, a testament to the guild's resources and expertise. Wilburt placed a gloved hand against the wall, murmuring a brief incantation. The carvings flared brightly, and a shimmering oval of light materialized, pulsating softly with a calming rhythm.
"Step through quickly," Wilburt instructed, stepping aside and gesturing for them to go first. "The portal will close the moment I step through."
James nodded, turning briefly to Ofelia. "Ready?"
Ofelia adjusted her hood slightly, her emerald eyes glinting beneath the shadow. "Ready," she replied softly.
James stepped into the portal first, the light enveloping him in a warm glow. Ofelia followed closely, her heart pounding as she passed through the shimmering gateway. The portal pulsed one final time before Wilburt stepped in behind them, sealing the passage as the light flickered out. The group emerged into a new setting, the air around them alive with the sounds and scents of Edima.
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Passing through the portal felt akin to breaking the surface of water during a dive. A wave of cold rushed over their bodies, as if they had plunged into a frigid pool, before the temperature normalized once more. On the other side, James and Ofelia staggered slightly, a mild nausea creeping over them.
Wilburt, noticing their reactions, chuckled warmly. "Don't worry, that's normal the first few times. The discomfort fades with experience. You'll get used to it."
James steadied himself, glancing at Ofelia, who was adjusting her cloak and taking deep breaths to calm herself. The air around them was markedly warmer, a noticeable contrast to the cool morning they had left behind. The faint hum of distant chatter and the clatter of wooden wheels on cobblestone streets reached their ears, accompanied by a medley of scents—spices, roasted meats, and the sharp tang of freshly tanned leather.
To distract them, Wilburt began talking about Edima. "This city is unique," he said, his tone animated. "It's located at the crossroads of three nations, making it a hub for commerce and trade. Merchants from all over the continent come here to do business. In fact, it's the second-largest trading center on the entire continent, right after the Merchants City of Mubury."
As he spoke, Wilburt led them through the Adventurer's Guild's main hall of Edima, a grand and vibrant space filled with energy. Adventurers in varied gear gathered around quest boards, their animated voices weaving tales of exploits and mishaps. Merchants stood at counters, their hands filled with ledgers and contracts as they negotiated terms with clerks. The rhythmic clinking of chainmail and the occasional clang of weaponry being inspected created a symphony of preparation.
Wilburt gestured toward a quieter corner, away from the bustling crowd. "Let's discuss the details here. It'll be easier to hear each other."
"Edima truly is a fascinating place," he continued. "Even here, at the Guild, you'll see travelers from every corner of the continent. It's not just a hub for trade; it's also a melting pot of cultures and ideas. You'll notice that as soon as you arrive."
James nodded thoughtfully, his curiosity growing. Ofelia remained quiet but attentive, adjusting her hood slightly to ensure her features stayed hidden. The hum of energy emanating from the portal wall added a subtle thrum to the atmosphere, blending with the distant clinking of weapons being inspected by adventurers.
James turned to Wilburt with a curious expression. "When will you be ready for the transfer back to Trudid?"
Wilburt scratched his chin thoughtfully. "In the evening, after supper. That should give you plenty of time to explore Edima."
Nodding, James decided to make the most of their time. "Can you tell us where the markets are? I'd like to see if there are any unique or valuable items to buy."
Wilburt grinned. "You're in luck. The markets here are some of the best on the continent. Head straight down the main road from the guild, and you'll find the Grand Market Square. It's impossible to miss with all the stalls and colorful awnings. Just keep an eye on your coin purse; this place attracts its fair share of pickpockets."
James chuckled, taking the advice seriously. "Thanks for the tip. And where would I find the City Clerk's office? I want to inquire about property prices while we're here."
"Ah, the City Clerk," Wilburt said, pointing to another road branching off the square. "Their office is just past the market, in a white stone building with blue banners. You'll see the city crest above the door. They handle all property and land-related matters."
With directions in hand, James thanked Wilburt and turned to Ofelia, who had been quietly listening. "Ready to explore?" he asked with a smile.
Ofelia nodded, her emerald eyes glinting with a hint of excitement. Together, they stepped out of the guild and into the lively streets of Edima, ready to uncover what the city had to offer.
Quitting the Adventurer Guild, James and Ofelia stepped into the heart of Edima, and the difference was immediate.
Where Trudid had been all timber frames and weathered planks—functional, familiar, almost modest—Edima dazzled. Smooth stone buildings flanked the wider roads, their façades etched with swirling patterns and flourishes that caught the sun like ripples on water. The streets felt polished, not just in material but in mood. Everything gleamed, from the cobblestones beneath their boots to the glass-fronted windows that reflected the bustle of midday life.
Vendors filled the avenues with color and clamor. Bright fabrics fluttered like captured fire in the breeze, suspended from high-strung ropes or billowing atop market stalls. Jewelry glinted in trays, some fine and delicate, others bold enough to blind. The scent of sizzling meat drifted between stands of fresh produce—red tomatoes still wet with morning dew, bunches of herbs bundled with twine, oranges split open to tempt passersby. Every breath carried a new sensation: spice, salt, charcoal, sugar. Every step added to the rhythm of the city—carts rolling, merchants calling, children laughing, a dog barking somewhere down a side alley.
James caught Ofelia's glance as she took it all in—her eyes bright under the hood of her cloak, her lips slightly parted in awe. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. He felt the same.
The deeper they went, the more the city seemed to reveal its spine. Buildings rose taller, stone giving way to marble, wood to brass. Arched windows stretched like cathedral glass, and doors stood twice his height, carved with scenes he didn't recognize—likely old myths or past heroes. The people here walked with purpose. Traders with ink-stained fingers, guards in polished mail, scholars in layered robes… and others he couldn't quite place. Travelers, maybe. Nobles. Thieves. Edima welcomed all, and judged none—so long as they kept moving.
The sea breeze reached them at last, faint but unmistakable, slipping between buildings with a touch of salt and mystery. And then, looming at the far end of a broad square, they saw it.
The City Clerk's office.
It didn't shout. It didn't need to. White stone, cut clean and straight, rose into a sharp-edged building framed by two towering blue banners. The crest of Edima—a golden sun cresting three silver peaks—fluttered in the wind like a silent command. It was the kind of place that didn't need guards at the door to feel dangerous. Its presence was enough.
James slowed for a beat, taking in the contrast. Even here, amidst grandeur, this building stood apart. Less ornate, more precise. Less beauty, more power.
Inside, the mood shifted.
Gone were the smells and sounds of the market. The air here was colder, still. Light poured through arched windows onto floors so polished they reflected the ceiling. Every step echoed. Every breath seemed too loud.
Behind an oversized desk sat a man who looked carved from the same stone as the building. Sharp cheekbones, sharper eyes. His posture was perfect, and his gaze carried a weight James had seen before—the kind that measured a person's worth not by words, but by the quality of your boots, cloak, and the gold in your coin pouch.
James felt Ofelia straighten slightly beside him. He did the same.
This was a place for decisions. And no one here cared how many monsters you'd slain outside its walls.
"May I help you?" the clerk asked, voice clipped and precise, his expression doing little to hide the disdain behind his polished demeanor.
James stepped forward, meeting the man's gaze without flinching. "We'd like to inquire about property prices in Edima," he said, calm and measured.
The clerk's eyebrow rose, just enough to betray his skepticism. "Property in Edima," he echoed, as if the words themselves tasted foreign. "Well. I hope you're not easily discouraged. The cheapest listings begin at two hundred gold. More desirable locations? A thousand, easily."
James felt the words hit like a splash of cold water.
Two hundred gold—for the smallest place? A thousand? That was enough to buy half of Trudid, maybe more. He kept his face neutral, but inside, the comparison twisted like a knot. They hadn't been expecting it to be cheap, but this… this was a different league entirely.
He offered a polite nod. "Thank you. Is there a list of available properties we could take a look at?"
The clerk sighed, a long-suffering sound that suggested he had far more important things to do than entertain inquiries from wanderers in travel-worn cloaks. He reached into a drawer with exaggerated slowness and pulled out a slim ledger, placing it on the desk like it might stain the surface. "Here. But understand—Edima deals with serious buyers."
James took the ledger without reacting to the tone. He flipped it open, scanning a few pages. The listings were just as painful as the clerk had claimed. Small, aging homes buried in the outer rings of the city still demanded prices that felt outrageous compared to anything they'd seen in Trudid. Prime locations weren't just expensive—they were untouchable.
Ofelia leaned slightly closer, just enough to glance at the pages, but remained quiet. James could feel her presence beside him, steady and calm, her silence saying more than any words would have.
He closed the ledger and handed it back.
"Thank you for your time," he said, voice steady.
The clerk gave a stiff nod and immediately looked past them, already mentally moving on, clearly showing them they were not worth his time.
As they stepped back out onto the street, the noise and color of Edima rushed in to meet them like a tide—warm, loud, and unapologetically alive.
James let out a long breath through his nose, raking a hand through his hair. "Well," he muttered, eyes scanning the flow of foot traffic ahead, "that was enlightening."
He glanced sideways at Ofelia. She hadn't said a word since they left the clerk's office, but her brows were drawn ever so slightly, her lips pressed in a contemplative line.
"We don't even have enough to buy the most run-down shack in this city," James said, voice low, edged with frustration. "How do people live here? Where do they go when they can't afford two hundred gold just to exist?"
Ofelia's voice was soft, but it cut through the clamor like water over stone. "Maybe… we ask people?" she suggested quietly. "Not… the clerk. Just… people."
James turned his head slightly, eyes still on the road ahead, but he nodded. The simplicity of her words held weight. She wasn't wrong—answers rarely came from marble desks.
The kind of knowledge that mattered most in a place like this didn't live behind marble counters. It lived in alley whispers, in shared drinks, in conversations held between people who'd had to survive without gold-lined ledgers.
He nodded. "Yeah. That's worth a shot."
His gaze drifted across the crowd—traders haggling under sun-bleached awnings, a pair of kids weaving through legs with stolen fruit, a grizzled man pushing a cart piled with broken tools and bent nails. There were stories here. And maybe, tucked between them, a lead.
"But first," he said, adjusting the weight of his coin pouch against his hip, "let's check out the market. Maybe we'll get lucky. If I can find something cheap with hidden value, we might be able to flip it for some quick profit."
Ofelia smiled faintly beneath her hood. "You plan... something again?"
James smirked. "Somebody has to."
They turned down a shaded side street where the crowd thickened again, drawn forward by the scent of roasted spices and the glint of metal under canvas. Edima might have been expensive—but it was far from out of reach.
They just had to look in the right places.