Today I learned that leaving Vaultreach is apparently much more complicated than arriving.
I also learned that Old Shard is joining us.
This surprised me.
It did not surprise Ryn.
Apparently he will be traveling to Dunskar as an advisor for an upcoming artifact auction.
According to Ryn, experienced appraisers are valuable during major auctions.
According to Old Shard, he is being kidnapped.
"Absolutely tragic."
That was the first thing he said when we arrived at Shardvein Curios.
"At my age, a man should be allowed to spend his days surrounded by beautiful artifacts instead of being dragged across the continent to see Sondre's ugly face."
Then he paused.
"I hate that man."
A pause.
"He'll probably be happy to see me."
Another pause.
"Disgusting."
I am beginning to suspect these feelings may not be entirely sincere.
Ryn certainly seemed unconvinced.
Unfortunately, the actual packing process turned out to be far more difficult than expected.
Mostly because Old Shard refused to decide what to bring.
For the next several hours, he repeatedly removed artifacts from a massive travel bag.
Placed them on tables.
Stared at them.
Looked conflicted.
Then returned them to the bag.
Only to retrieve them again ten minutes later.
Sometimes less.
"Security."
That was his explanation.
"The road is dangerous, Mama."
"Bandits exist."
"Monsters exist."
"Disasters happen."
"One must travel carefully."
I thought this sounded reasonable.
Ryn disagreed immediately.
"He just doesn't want to leave them behind."
Old Shard pointed accusingly.
"You don't understand."
"Of course I understand."
"No."
"I do."
"No."
"You don't."
The argument continued for several minutes.
Neither side appeared interested in winning.
Only participating.
Eventually I decided Ryn was probably correct.
Mostly because I watched Old Shard remove the same artifact from the bag four separate times.
A man genuinely concerned about security would presumably make decisions faster.
Eventually my attention shifted elsewhere.
Specifically toward a cart.
A very large cart.
Filled with artifacts.
Ryn's artifacts.
The collection she had gathered during our time inside the Heartspike Catacombs.
At first glance, most appeared surprisingly ordinary.
There was a warm cloak.
A lantern.
A small knife.
A pouch for cleaning water.
A bottle of endless ink.
A quill that prevented hand fatigue.
Several others.
Useful.
Practical.
The sort of things travelers, merchants, and explorers would happily purchase.
Ryn explained that only twelve items would actually be entered into the auction.
The rest would be sold later when we established a stall in Dunskar.
Apparently every item had already been inspected by Old Shard.
And after auction taxes and fees, the profits would still be substantial.
I nodded wisely.
As though I understood any of this.
I did not.
Artifact prices remain largely incomprehensible to me.
My daily writing quill is apparently worth over one thousand Gold Crowns.
My bag is apparently worth enough money to purchase a village.
I use it as a pillow.
At this point I no longer feel qualified to judge value.
One artifact did catch my attention.
An Endless Inkwell.
A small bottle of dark red glass.
A year's worth of endless ink.
Immediately interesting.
I was already considering negotiation strategies.
Then Ryn reminded me that my Infinity Quill already produces its own ink.
Which rendered the entire discussion pointless.
A disappointing revelation.
Fortunately, Ryn seemed eager to show me two other artifacts.
She looked unusually pleased.
Which should have worried me more than it did.
The first was called The Eternal Mirror.
A beautiful handheld mirror framed in gold.
The reflection was remarkably flattering.
My hair appeared neater.
My skin appeared healthier.
I looked well-rested.
The mirror was clearly lying.
The second item was even stranger.
The Golden Whisper Orb.
A perfectly polished golden crystal sphere.
When held, it whispered encouragement.
Compliments.
Motivational phrases.
Confidence.
Admiration.
Nothing particularly insightful.
Merely enthusiastic.
I stared at both objects.
Then stared at Ryn.
Then stared at the objects again.
I felt certain I was missing something.
"How much are these worth?"
Ryn smiled.
Before she could answer, Old Shard shouted from across the shop.
"Nothing!"
I nearly jumped.
"They're trash!"
Another artifact disappeared into his travel bag.
"Decorated garbage!"
A pause.
"Especially that orb!"
Ryn continued smiling.
Which somehow made me more nervous.
Finally she answered.
"If everything goes according to plan, Miss DeLuna..."
She gently tapped the mirror.
"Very expensive."
Then she tapped the orb.
"Extremely expensive."
I looked at the mirror.
Then the orb.
Then the mirror again.
Neither appeared particularly useful.
Certainly not compared to water purification pouches.
Or silent boots.
Or endless ink.
Yet Ryn seemed completely confident.
As though the outcome was obvious.
As though she already knew who would buy them.
As though she already knew why.
According to plan.
For some reason, those words felt deeply unsettling.
Particularly when spoken by a merchant.
Particularly when spoken by Ryn.
Before I could ask further questions, Old Shard shouted again.
"See?"
"I told you!"
He emerged from behind a shelf carrying three artifacts and what appeared to be a cooking pot.
"When I said Sondre was evil, nobody listened!"
He pointed directly at Ryn.
"Now look at her!"
"Completely corrupted!"
"The poor girl never had a chance!"
Then he pointed at me.
"And now she's corrupting my favorite niece too!"
"I warned everyone!"
"I said that man was a demon!"
I looked at Ryn.
Ryn looked at Old Shard.
Old Shard looked deeply satisfied with himself.
I am not entirely certain what was happening.
But I am increasingly convinced there is a conversation occurring somewhere beneath the conversation.
A layer I cannot quite see.
The mirror still looked useless.
The orb still sounded ridiculous.
Old Shard still insisted both were trash.
And Ryn still believed they would sell for enormous sums of money.
Somewhere inside that disagreement—
I suspect there is a lesson waiting for me.
Unfortunately, I do not understand it yet.
And whenever Ryn says the words "according to plan,"
I become significantly less enthusiastic about asking questions.
That feels like a survival instinct worth preserving.
Komentar
Posting Komentar