The tower from which he emerged was across the street from the House of Acuity, one reason it was such a big market. He took a moment to observe the building. Tiny flickers of golden light twinkled around the entrances, and he could see a fuzzy image of the interior when he closed his eyes.
He opened his eyes, dispelling the map lore. If he needed to call it up later he could, but he was already starting to feel tired. He was beginning to think he relied on his blessing too much.
He walked into the House, ducking under the thick red curtains that filled the entryway. He emerged into a huge room, lit by a deluge of windows. Stalls were stuffed into every available space, and merchants used every possible method to catch the eye, the ear, or the nose and draw attention to their goods.
Devon needed to go to the administrative booth. He closed his eyes and gently tapped his foot. When he opened his eyes, a faint golden line appeared, showing him the way.
He moved through the fair, dodging bodies and ignoring the admittedly interesting sights and sounds that assaulted him. He followed the faint golden mist, until he reached the center of the market, and abrupt opening from the narrow aisle he’d been navigating.
The administrative booth was like four merchant’s stalls crushed together. It had several attendants, each one with a line of people waiting with various degrees of patience. Fortunately, Devon had no interest in speaking to an attendant – for the moment, at least.
He shook his head subtly, at the same time imagining an empty circle in his mind. A shiver rippled across his skin, and tiny sparks popped off his fingertips. After a moment, the frission ended and he had completely cleansed his aura – no Terros energy remained in his system. He wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible, and without an Atmos blessing all he could do was use no supernatural energy.
The attendants of the booth, each wearing very professional dark blue suits, even the women, moved with surprising efficiency. The lines remained the same length, but Devon could see that was because people were joining the line at the same rate people were leaving. He was impressed in spite of himself.
He moved around the perimeter of the open space. Behind the counter where attendants handled basic customer complaints was a small office. He couldn’t see into it; the only window had a heavy green curtain covering it.
He looked up, and found a large clock hanging from the ceiling. It was just now noon, which explained the delicious odors wafting through the air. He had three hours to get to the Archchancellor, and probably the same for the Judge.
He sauntered casually up to the counter, bypassing the line completely. He smiled at the attendant, a young blond girl with pale skin, freckles, and big green eyes.
“Hi, I’m here to meet with - ” he began.
“I’m sorry, sir, there’s a line. Please wait your turn,” the girl said, icy politeness coating her voice.
“Really, I’m just here to see - ”
“Sir. Please go to the back of the line,” the girl said, interrupting him again, her voice very stern, yet still professional. Devon opened his mouth to try one more time before he was grabbed from behind and pulled unceremoniously to the back of the line.
He caught his footing awkwardly, stumbling a little. A man in line looked at him and smirked before turning back to the attendant. Devon straightened, dusted off his clothes, and got in line. It wasn’t worth making a scene.
The line moved quickly. Devon squashed the urge to retaliate when the man that had rudely yanked him about – a whisper of a man, dressed all in gray and white, barely as tall as Devon’s already-short ears, no hair, no accessories – walked past him, but maintained his composure. When he finally reached the attendant, she greeted him with no trace of anything but cool professionalism.
“Good day, sir, how may I help you?” she asked.
“I am Devon Knowles, I was contacted for a delivery today,” Devon said, smiling brilliantly.
The woman, who had a nametag that read “Daphne”, nodded. “You’ll need to go to the main office. It’s -”
“I know where it is,” Devon said, tapping his foot nonchalantly. Tingles raced around his eyes as the lore began to recharge. “Do I need to ask for someone specifically?”
Daphne smiled coolly at him. “You should ask for Joseph Jameson,” she told him. “Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Knowles?”
Devon shook his head. “Thank you for the help, Daphne. Have an excellent day.”
“You too, sir,” she said, and as Devon turned and walked away, he could practically feel her shift all her attention to the person after him.
He was distracted by a loud click! inside his head. His map lore was up and running. He normally left it on, since it took a very long time to activate it from scratch. Sometimes he felt like the map lore was less a part of his blessing and more an accessory he turned on and off. It was incredibly useful, at any rate.
He walked over to a stall selling “power crystals”. He’d heard of these before, and assumed they were a total fraud. Only Kosmima blessings were affected by gems and crystals.
He picked a stone at random from the box labeled “Petra”. It was a clear stone, very rough and uncut. He played with it idly while he focused on his map lore. Golden glitter filled his vision, and he instructed it to find the main office. The stone in his hands suddenly burned with intense heat, and he yelped, dropping it back into the box.
As the stone left his hands, his skin thrummed and his vision warped. For a moment, he was looking at the market from above and the main office was highlighted with brilliant gold light. His vision snapped back to normal, and he stumbled back.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” the merchant said, moving over to him. It was a portly man with a thick black beard but a bald head. “Would you like to try a more specific stone?”
“What do you mean?” Devon asked, intrigued. It had only lasted a moment, but it had been the clearest vision his map lore had ever given him.
“What you had was a general amplification stone. That’s all I put out on display, since the stronger ones are more dangerous.” The man rummaged in the back of his stall, going through several drawers set in the wall before pulling out another clear stone. This one was cut, and quite peculiarly. The little Devon knew of Kosmima gemcraft told him symmetrical cuts were better than asymmetric. This gem had clearly been carefully cut, and was free of flaws, but it was bizarrely shaped, some spars much longer than others and some very small nubs, more like goosebumps than spars.
The merchant handed the strange little stone to Devon. It felt warm, like sunlight on his fingers.
“This stone is designed to enhance a Fytevo blessing,” the merchant explained. “They work best with weak blessings, so be careful you don’t try to push it too hard.”
“Fytevo is definitely not my strength,” Devon said. “Do you have any plants?”
The merchant promptly grabbed a tiny potted plant and placed it on the counter. Devon touched it with his free hand and closed his eyes.
It was an Arandan violet, bright purple with white fringes. He could sense it would be effective against a small amount of pain, but got nothing clearer.
The stone in his other hand pulsed with warmth, and knowledge poured into his head. Arandan violet was used to abate a precise amount of pain, one which Devon experienced as a short throb in his toe. It needed certain amounts of sunshine and water to survive, and a certain amount to flourish. It was compatible with certain plants, and incompatible with others.
The knowledge hit him in a flash. When he took his finger away from the plant, it vanished. The stone in his hand cooled slightly, back to sunlight.
“What do you think?” the merchant asked. “It can be useful to have such an ace up your sleeve, no?”
Devon put the stone down on the counter. “It’s very unique, but I’m not really interested. I’ve gone this long without Fytevo, I think I can manage without it.” He smiled, not intending to insult the merchant.
“I have Petra and Panida stones as well,” the merchant replied. “Unfortunately, Kosmima isn’t compatible with this kind of amplification; they have their own methods.”
Devon thought for a moment. “Can I see the Panida stone?”
The merchant beamed and rummaged through his drawers again, producing a new stone. It was just as awkwardly cut, but it was tinted a pale pink. Devon took it carefully. The stone immediately began to radiate heat.
“Is it supposed to be so hot?” Devon asked. He felt energy begin to vibrate in his muscles and bones. An aura abruptly flared around him, and he felt a strange prickling on his forearms. A glance showed him he was growing fur. With a shriek, he dropped the stone onto the counter. The aura around him snuffed out, and the fur on his arms puffed into a cloud of dust that quickly faded away.
“That’s why I don’t keep these stones out,” the merchant said, picking up the pink gem and holding it to the light, examining it for flaws or damage. “If you get your blessing amplified too far it can go out of control.”
Devon focused on moderating his breathing. He knew intellectually that strong Panida blessings let you modify your body, but he’d never been upset he wasn’t strong enough to do so with any sort of skill.
“I guess that means you don’t really want a stone, if your Panida had that reaction and you’re not interested in Fytevo,” the merchant said, his tone full of put upon despair.
An idea blossomed in Devon’s mind. “I tell you what, merchant,” he said, realizing far too late he hadn’t gotten the man’s name. “If you can make a stone that magnifies just map lore, I’ll buy that.”
The merchant’s eyebrows shot up. “A very creative challenge, good sir. I shall look into the matter. If you wish to find me, my name is Jan Ianson, of Larne.”
“And I am Devon Knowles,” Devon said. They shook hands, and Devon began walking again. The distraction had eaten more time than he’d meant to spend. He wasn’t going to be late for anything, but he needed to stop pausing for silly reasons.
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