The heavy bronze doors of the Golden Merchant Association closed behind me with a soft thud, a sound that felt like a final goodbye to one version of myself.
I clutched the bag of potions and herbs and the small pouch of my remaining silver. The gold coin had bought me supplies, but it had also bought me the quiet disdain of a world I was still a stranger to.
The feeling of being watched, judged, and found wanting lingered.
The memory of the girl, however, was what stayed with me the most. That fleeting look of curiosity, a sharp, emerald-green gaze that had seen me not as a peasant in worn clothes, but as something else entirely.
It was a look that made my heart race, a sensation I couldn't quite understand.
I shook my head, pushing the thought away.
She was a prodigy, a child of immense importance, and I was just a contender from the Gloomwood.
I returned to the inn, and the warmth of the common room was a welcome change from the cold professionalism of the association. I quickly went up to my room, stowing my new supplies carefully.
But the image of the opulent hall and the stares lingered. I couldn't go into a competition like this. Not if I wanted to be taken seriously. I needed to look the part.
My journey to find a clothing shop was far less daunting than my trip to the association. I found a modest tailor's shop, and inside, I was amazed by the sheer variety of clothes. There were robes of deep blue, crimson, and green, all made of materials I had only ever read about. The fabrics felt impossibly soft and smooth, a stark contrast to the roughspun tunics I had always worn.
But my eyes were drawn to a simple, black robe. It was made of a sturdy, dark fabric that seemed to absorb the light. I ran my fingers over the material, a sense of rightness settling over me.
When I tried it on, it felt like a second skin, comfortable and practical yet undeniably refined. The weight and cut of it felt purposeful, designed for movement and purpose. I looked at my reflection and saw someone I didn't quite recognize—the boy from the Gloomwood was still there, but he was no longer defined by his isolation. This was the outward expression of the inner transformation I had undergone in that quiet clearing.
For the first time, I truly felt like I belonged here.
With my new clothes and supplies, a sense of finality settled in. I packed my few belongings, securing the new potions and herbs with a reverence I usually reserved for my grandfather's ancient texts. I went down to the common room one last time to say goodbye to Bram. He was wiping down a table, a faint smile on his face.
"So, you're off then, boy?" he said, his voice warm. "You look different."
I nodded, my new clothes feeling a little strange but right. "Yes. The competition is in two days."
He clapped me on the shoulder, a firm, encouraging gesture. "Good. You've got a fire in you, Kael. More than any of those fancy city-folk. Don't you forget it. And don't you get too distracted by all the pretty city girls. I'm sure you'll have your pick."
He winked, his old eyes twinkling with amusement. My mind, unbidden, flashed back to the girl at the association. Her golden hair, her emerald eyes. I quickly pushed the image back down.
"I'll try not to," I said with a small smile, returning his good humor. "Thank you for everything, Bram. I couldn't have done it without your help".
"Don't thank me," he said".Just go and show them what the Gloomwood can do".
The weight of his words settled in my chest, a final gift of courage. He was the only person in this city who had shown me kindness without question.
After saying my goodbyes, I took a deep breath and walked out into the streets of Silvergate. The city was a blur of motion, a cacophony of vendors shouting and carriages rattling by. I moved with a new sense of purpose, my black robe a quiet shield against the noise and the stares. My training was done. My preparations were complete. My destination was no longer just a rumor, but a tangible goal.
The road ahead was a ribbon of beaten earth winding between verdant hills, the distant peaks of the Iron Mountains a jagged silhouette against the horizon. The scent of pine and wild herbs replaced the city's mingled aromas, and I found myself breathing a little easier, the deep, fresh air a balm to my city-weary lungs. The sun warmed my face, and the wind, a steady presence, seemed to push me onward. My pouch felt heavier, my new clothes felt right, and the Ignis in my core felt a quiet, simmering readiness.
The thought of facing other prodigies no longer filled me with dread, but with a competitive fire. The challenges ahead were real, but so was the power I had forged. The whispers of the Umbra, once a source of fear, were now a silent promise of my true potential, a secret weapon to be guarded. For the first time, I was walking toward a future that was entirely my own.