I reach Lucien's store and push open the fine wooden doors, the familiar chime of the bell announcing my arrival. The interior's luxury is still overwhelming, even on my third visit. But what catches my eye immediately is the presence of another customer already deep in conversation with Lucien.

  Father Alric.

  The sight of the priest here is strange. His austere presence seems at odds with this particular merchant's overt greed and pride. Yet, Lucien's demeanor seems... different, less mocking, more measured. I can only assume he does a good deal of trading with the church, I'm not sure why else this priest would warrant such respect.

  "'Tis a most rare artifact, Master Draegmoore," Alric intones, examing the scroll in Lucien's hand. "The light of blessed Lumina shines through all, even through the hands of men such as thee."

  Lucien chuckles, though it lacks his usual condescension. "An appreciated sentiment, Father. I would not have expected such praise for a humble merchant."

  Alric does not smile, but he nods, accepting the scroll from Lucien. The scroll is bound in thick, iron-rimmed parchment, one of the more valuable ones I assume.

  Again, I feel that same pull, the same quiet compulsion I experienced last time. The sight of those scrolls holds me captive.

  I want one.

  Alric’s fingers trace over the runes with reverence before he produces a pouch of coin and places it delicately on the counter. "May thy dealings be just, and thy hands clean of sin."

  Lucien inclines his head. "Always, Father."

  Alric takes the scroll and turns to leave. It is only then that he notices me standing near the entrance, watching. His eyes narrow slightly before his head inclines ever so slightly in greeting. "Seven."

  I nod in return. "Father Alric."

  He lingers for a moment as if considering something before his lips press into a thin line. "May thy path be guided by the light of Lumina. Iter Lux."

  And with that, he is gone, disappearing into the market square, the door closing behind him with a soft creak.

  Lucien releases a slow breath, his smirk returning now that the priest is gone. "A peculiar man, isn't he?"

  I step closer to the counter, my gaze still fixed on the now-empty space where the scroll had been. "What did he buy?"

  Lucien's smirk sharpens. "Curious, are we? You were quite fixated on my scrolls the last time you were here too. Unusual, for a peasant." He leans forward slightly, resting his arms on the counter. "Tell me, does the idea of wielding true magic excite you?"

  I hesitate, unsure how to respond. The thought of wielding sorcery is tempting, what man wouldn’t dream of possessing such power? But it’s impossible, so why entertain the thought, especially with the church’s watchful gaze?

  And yet… Father Alric had just purchased a scroll. A priest of Lumina, a man of strict doctrine, would he truly deal in forbidden magic? That would go against everything the church preaches.

  I arch a brow, eyeing Lucien skeptically. "What would a priest want with a magic scroll?"

  Lucien lets out a sigh, shaking his head with a condescending smirk. "These scrolls contain not only magic, peasant. They contain knowledge, history and myth. The church is quite fond of collecting such things, so long as they reinforce their doctrine. Perhaps Alric seeks to enlighten himself, or perhaps he merely wishes to keep certain knowledge from wandering hands."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  His explanation doesn’t fully quell my doubts, but my attention drifts once more to the display of scrolls. Some are simple, tightly wrapped in high-quality string, their parchment unassuming. Others are bound in iron, their construction alone exuding suggests to their significance. My fingers twitch, the urge to reach out and unravel one gnaws at me.

  “Now, enough idle chatter. I have a task for you, as discussed.”

  He reaches below his counter, producing a heavy chest that lands on the countertop with a resounding thud. "This task requires someone of... unique capability," he begins, running his hand over the iron chest. "A delivery to a friend outside of town, about six hours west of here."

  He lets out a theatrical sigh. "Alas, the roads these days are plagued by dangers, and it seems the young men of our town lack the courage to venture beyond its walls."

  His eyes narrow, his smile widening again as his eyes turn to me. "But you, Seven... it's the talk of the town. A large stranger felling two brigands with his own hands. Surely, someone of your rare.... talents is fit for such a task."

  "And… you mentioned a discount in exchange?" I ask, meeting Lucien's gaze.

  Lucien closes his eyes briefly, his unsettling smile softening just slightly into his regular smirk. Without a word, he retrieves a thin scroll and holds it up with deliberate grace. "This," he declares, "is a scroll of the Firebolt."

  My eyes are drawn immediately to the parchment, its intricate markings, just barely visible through the thin parchment, radiating a strange allure. I feel a surge of desire for the scroll. the idea of commanding magic... the power it promises...

  "Complete this task for me," Lucien continues, his voice smooth and persuasive, "and I will trade it to you for the gold coin I gave you earlier. A full two coins cheaper than its true worth."

  My mind races. The scroll, though undeniably appealing, can only be used three times. Is it truly worth a gold coin? Perhaps as a safety measure, it could save my life. Or... if I were to resell it for its full price, that would mean a two-gold profit. No matter which way I look at it, the offer seems generous. Suspiciously so.

  "What's inside the chest?" I ask, crossing my arms. Lucien looks at it, tapping the lock. "That, peasant, is none of your concern. Will you accept the task, or shall I find someone else?"

  I study the chest, its iron-reinforced edges tells me it's secure, the lock looks solid, likely impossible to open without a locksmith. Could I be smuggling something? If so, what would the consequences be? Would the guards stop me? Would they even care? Smuggling doesn’t bother me in principle.... as long as the danger isn’t extreme.

  "Fine. I'll do it. But I want to buy the scroll now," I demand, staring Lucien down.

  Lucien rolls his eyes "Oh, peasant, what kind of fool do you take me for? Payment is rendered upon the job's completion." I glare at him, straightening my back as I loom over the merchant, refusing to back down.

  "Tell me what's inside the chest, then. If I'm going to take a risk smuggling for you, I want to know what it is." Lucien taps the counter, irritation flickering in his eyes. "That is not for m-" He cuts himself off, sneering before finishing. "-lowborn like you to know."

  "Fine. But if you won't tell me what's inside, then I'll take what I'm owed now," Standing my ground, I lock eyes with the man, embracing the hostile tension. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, he relents.

  "Fine," he spits. I produce the gold coin he traded me, placing it firmly on the counter as I reach for the scroll in his hand. But he doesn't release it immediately, his grip tightening as he leans in close.

  "Don't even think about betraying me, peasant," he hisses, his voice low and menacing. "There is nowhere in this world you can hide from me."

  The threat sends a chill down my spine, an edge to his tone that I can't quite place but feel deep in my bones. I look to his eyes but they're shadowed, the sunken sockets dark at this angle. After a moment, he lets go, and I carefully tie the scroll to my belt.

  Then, I take the heavy chest, placing it securely under my arm. Lucien's gaze lingers on it, before turning to me. "Follow the western road until you reach the mountainside. To the north, through the woods, you will find his house."

  "Where in the woods?" I ask, my brows furrowing.

  Lucien's smirk twists slightly, his voice cutting. "By the entrance. You can't miss it. And be swift, I am not a patient man."

  Results

  + 1 Heavy Chest

  + 1 Scroll of Firebolt

  - 1 Gold Coin

  Stats