After a few days of rest and bitter medicine, Eira's wounds had healed completely.
At dawn, she pulled on her cloak, strapped her small pouch of coins to her waist, and slipped out of the quarters before anyone could notice.
The streets were drowned in mist, and the pale sunlight above looked weak, almost afraid to rise in this cursed world. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and walked quickly, her boots clicking against the cobblestones.
It was her first time alone since arriving. She wanted to get over today's tasks quickly.
The market square lay just ahead, beneath a crumbling clock tower whose hands had long stopped moving. Beside it loomed a blood station, a squat iron building where humans were forced to "donate."
The place was massive. It had rows upon rows of wooden stalls stretched as far as she could see. Torn canopies flapped in the wind, their colors faded, their corners stained with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood.
The air reeked of roasted roots, spiced tea, and sweat. A few humans milled about, their shoulders hunched, eyes darting nervously at the patrols of vampire guards.
Everywhere she looked, there was fear — in the way mothers clutched their children, in the way vendors bowed too deeply, in the way no one dared to laugh for too long.
"Fucking depressing." Eira muttered under her breath and kept walking.
Her first stop was a food stall. A thin, bony woman stood behind it, arranging piles of smoked meat and dried fruits.
"Hello ma'am. I need something that won't rot in two days" Eira said, keeping her voice low.
"You travelin', miss?"
"Something like that."
The woman wrapped smoked meat, hard bread, and nuts in a small cloth.
"This should do." she whispered as she packed them.
"Thanks." Eira gave her a coin and moved on.
By the time she left her stall, a few steps away, an old man called out from behind a stall draped in tattered purple cloth. "You there, girl! You smell too alive. Why not get some protection?"
Eira turned. His table was littered with odd charms, silver rings, bones tied with red string, and strange talismans that looked odd.
She approached, more curious than cautious. "Protection from what?"
He grinned, revealing blackened teeth. "From what else? The bloodsuckers. This one—" he pointed at a dark pendant shaped like a fang, "—hides your scent from their sniffing noses."
Next, he lifted a moonstone set in dull silver. "This one keeps your mind your own when they try to twist it."
Eira picked up the talisman, weighing it in her hand. "Do they work?"
He nodded a little too hard. "Of course! We swear by it here."
Liar. She smirked and bought it anyway.
They were most definitely worthless trinkets, but in a world like this, superstition was better than regret.
She was about to leave when a small shadow darted past her. Her pouch tugged, light fingers brushing it.
She spun, quickly snatching the thief by the collar. It was a scrawny child, dirty-faced, and eyes wide like a trapped rat.
"Let go!!"
Eira sighed. "You're shit at stealing, kid."
"I'm…hungry." He pleaded, trembling.
She loosened her grip and flipped him a coin. "Here. Buy something edible before a guard sees you. And next time, pick someone dumber."
He stared at her, and bolted into the crowd.
Eira shook her head, and smiled faintly.
The deeper she went into the market, the stranger it became. In one corner, a group of merchants sold vials filled with thick crimson liquid — vampire blood. The scammy vendors promised it gave strength, beauty, eternal youth.
Eira scoffed. Betai had told her what vampire blood really did. It twisted people into monsters with no will of their own.
Nearby, a blind herbalist hawked potions that shimmered gold under the weak sun. "Sun-dust!" he croaked. "For warmth! For courage! For the spark the night stole from you!"
She almost bought one, until she saw the "ingredient list" scratched on the label: ground rat teeth and powdered ash of virgin hair.
She made a face, and dropped it, moving on.
The bells of the clock tower tolled once, deep and hollow. Instantly, all sound died. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Eira froze with the rest of the crowd as a troop of vampire guards marched into the square. Their boots struck the cobblestones in perfect rhythm. Their eyes glowed faint red beneath their helms, cold and predatory.
Every human knelt.
Eira did too, though her jaw clenched hard enough to ache.
The captain's voice carried over the silence. "All traders selling unmarked goods will report for inspection by dusk. Defiance will be treated as treason."
Then, as swiftly as they came, the guards left — their shadows stretching long behind them.
The moment they disappeared, the market exhaled again, and noise returned.
Eira stood slowly, though her heart was still hammered.
She bought the rest of what she needed — gloves, boots, a new cloak to hide her figure, and finally, a men's wig with shoulder-length black hair.
When she put it on, she looked almost unrecognizable.
"Well damn…" She muttered, glancing at her reflection in a cracked mirror. "I make a half-decent man. Shame about the chest."
The tailor snorted. "Stuff your clothing right, and no one will notice."
Eira grinned. "Right."
She turned to leave the market, her satchel full and her mind already planning her next move.
The mines were her target.
She needed the purest crystals she could find to refine into data crystals.
And where best to get them if not the mines?
But thinking of the fastest and most convenient way to get there made her head throb. She wished cars were a thing here.
Then fate decided to help.
As she walked past two men arguing near a spice stall, their voices caught her attention.
"I tell ya! The next shipment's leaving by dusk," one hissed. "Slaves and miners both. Straight to the east pits!"
"What's the ship number, old man?" the other muttered.
Eira's pulse quickened. That was her free ride.
She noted down the ship number, and waited for dusk. The moment the sun began setting, she slipped away, sifting through alleys until she reached the docks.
The harbor reeked of fish, smoke, and the sea. Crates and cages lined the shore.
The ship was massive, iron-bellied, guarded by three vampires and a handful of chained humans being shoved aboard.
Eira crouched behind a pile of barrels, scanning for an opening.
When one of the guards turned away, she darted forward, fast, and slid through a small hatch at the ship's side.
Inside was darkness and rot. Rats skittered over her boots. She gagged softly but pressed on until she found a narrow compartment beneath the stairs.
She squeezed herself in, and clutched her cloak tightly around her. The ship creaked, ropes groaned, and above, a bell rang twice, signaling the sound of departure.
As the vessel lurched forward, Eira rested her head against the cold wood, eyes half-closed.