I kept walking, weaving my way deeper into the district. The streets grew narrower, pressed in by rows of wooden stalls overflowing with goods. Unlike the more orderly parts of the city, where merchants lined up neatly in designated areas, here the market seemed to have spilled into the roads without care. Every two or three steps, another vendor had crammed their stall into whatever space they could find, creating a maze of tables, baskets, and makeshift counters.
The air was thick with the mingling scents of roasted meat, fresh produce, and the sharp tang of fish laid out on wooden planks. Voices overlapped in a never-ending hum—vendors calling out prices, customers haggling, children laughing as they darted through the crowd. Barrels of grain sat against buildings, their contents spilling slightly onto the cobblestones, while a group of street performers played a lively tune on mismatched instruments.
It was chaotic, loud, and absolutely packed.
I rounded a corner, my patience wearing thin as I tried to maneuver through the throng of people. Just as I was about to lose hope of finding the house, my eyes landed on it—a two-story building with a dark blue-tiled roof, situated further down the street where the market stalls thinned out.
"Okay," I muttered to myself. "There it is."
I pushed forward, squeezing through the crowded street with my shoulders hunched, muttering quick apologies whenever I accidentally bumped into someone. The moment I reached the less congested area near Aenn's house, I let out a breath, glancing over my shoulder. Juz'n was crowded, alright. Street vendors were everywhere, their stalls crammed into every available space.
Shaking off the frustration, I stepped up to the door and knocked, then took a step back.
A few seconds later, a shadow moved behind the window beside the door. An old woman peered out, her sharp eyes scanning me with cautious curiosity. When our gazes met, I gave her a small nod and stepped closer to the window. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the quest paper and held it up for her to see.
Her reaction was instant—her head tilted back slightly, her eyes widening as if she had completely forgotten about the request.
"Oh!" she gasped before fumbling with the door. A moment later, it swung open fully. "Hello! Sorry, I forgot I posted the quest at the Guild… well, my daughter posted it, not me… or was it me? I can't remember, sorry."
"Right," I said, my expression flat. "May I ask where you dropped your ring, ma'am?"
She blinked at me. "Dropped? No, it was stolen. It had to be."
I raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea who might've taken it? Anyone come to mind?"
"Oh, gods no," she huffed. "I don't have enemies."
"Thieves don't need to be your enemies to steal from you," I pointed out, crossing my arms. "Do you suspect anyone?"
"No…" Her voice dropped, uncertainty creeping in. "But I—I must have had it stolen somewhere in this street. I never leave here—just go to the market stalls, buy vegetables, sometimes meat."
I hummed, thinking. "You believe someone slipped the ring off your finger in the middle of all this?" I gestured to the still-bustling street behind me.
"That is my guess, yes." She sighed. "Can you please help me find it? My daughter got it for me as a birthday gift."
"I'll try," I said. "What does it look like?"
She hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "My… daughter?"
I fought the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. "No, ma'am," I said, my tone as flat as before. "Your ring."
"Oh!" She slapped her forehead, laughing nervously. "Sorry. It's a golden ring… an old one. Inside the band, there are two initials—A and N."
"Got it," I said with a small nod. "I'll let you know if I find it."
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft but firm as she eased the door shut, the faintest hint of hope in her eyes. "I'll pray to the gods that you find it."
I nodded, my gaze lingering on her for a moment before I took a few steps back. The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood there for a moment, the sounds of the busy street buzzing around me. A golden ring, lost in a sea of people. If someone had found it by now, they'd probably already sold it off—spent the coin.
Just as I was about to turn and make my way down the street, I felt a sudden presence behind me—someone was far too close for comfort. I whipped around, but then I froze. A woman stood there, holding a hunk of bread in one hand, the other resting on her hip. She eyed me warily, her gaze sharp and tired.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice low but clear. "Why are you standing in front of my mother's house?"
I paused, momentarily thrown off by her boldness. I fumbled for the quest paper tucked into my pocket, pulling it out and unfolding it. "I'm here for the stolen ring," I explained, my voice flat but steady.
She studied me for a moment, her blonde hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, her green eyes narrowing slightly. The earring in her left ear, a simple gold piece, caught the light as it swung loosely, a heart-shaped charm dangling from it—bright yellow, as if to mock the dullness of the moment. Her clothes were simple—faded brown linen, worn at the edges, a loose-fitting tunic that came down to her knees, tucked into well-worn boots. The kind of attire someone who worked for a living would wear.
"Stolen ring?" she repeated. "Yes, she told me that. Must have just dropped it somewhere. Honestly, you're wasting your time. Just leave it be."
I gave a half-shrug, my voice a little colder than before. "I'll try my chances," I said, my tone resigned but unwavering.
She sighed, her lips pressing into a thin line, then nodded toward the crowd ahead of us. "You can start looking there," she said, gesturing toward the throng of people milling about in the busy street. "Good luck, kid. There's a lot of people, and you'll never find it in that mess. But I'll pray that you do. It was my gift to her."
"Hmm."
She turned then, walking briskly back to the door and knocking twice. "Good luck," she called over her shoulder.
I gave a half-hearted wave and muttered, "Thanks." The words felt hollow, but there was no real point in saying anything else.
I walked away from the house and toward the crowded street, the weight of my task pressing down on me. I didn't have high hopes of just finding the ring lying somewhere, and the possibility of it being stolen felt more likely by the second. But maybe—just maybe—there was a chance. And even though the odds were slim, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had to try. After all, what was the harm in looking?
❂❂❂
And just as I had expected, the ring was nowhere to be found.
Checking my phone, I realized I'd been searching for the ring for almost two hours. The sun was shining with all its power now, and the crisp morning chill had faded, replaced by a growing warmth. The streets were even more crowded than before, people flooding in from every direction. Navigating through the market stalls had become nearly impossible.
People flooded the market, their voices blending into an overwhelming hum. The stalls, once spaced out enough to navigate through, had now become an impossible maze. Every path was blocked by bodies, merchants shouting, customers haggling.
I needed a break.
Spotting a small wooden bench tucked between two market stalls, I walked over and collapsed onto it, leaning back against the cool wall behind me. My body ached from all the weaving through crowds, my legs sore from walking nonstop.
To my left and right, vendors continued their business as if the world hadn't just been testing my patience. Dark wooden stalls lined the streets, some displaying fresh vegetables, others shining trinkets and woven fabrics. People bustled past, some carrying sacks slung over their shoulders, others clutching their newly bought goods close to their chests.
"I can't find it," I muttered under my breath, rubbing my forehead. "Ugh… I should just tell the old woman I failed."