Chapter 18: Walk Through The Town But Wait...
Lont was already bustling with activity as I made my way from Cain's place. The city was a machine in motion, gears turning as merchants unfurled their canopies, artisans opened their shops, and workers trudged through the cobbled streets toward their posts. The scent of fresh bread curled through the morning air, mingling with the sharp bite of iron from the smithies. Street criers called out the latest news, their voices competing with the distant chime of the city bells marking the early hour.
Cain's estate sat high in the upper district, a place of order and wealth so the area I found myself In was quite nice, obviously nothing like I am used to. The roads were smooth, paved with polished stone.
As I walked into the market I could almost feel the early morning energy. Merchants called out their products enticing passerby's to look at their latest trinket, voices rising in a chorus of shouts, bartering, and laughter.
The scent of sizzling meat drifted through the air, mingling with the sharp tang of spiced wine and the earthy musk of fresh produce. A butcher's stall displayed thick slabs of cured venison, the rich red meat glistening under the morning sun. Nearby, a fishmonger gutted a massive silver-scaled leviathan with practiced efficiency, his knife flashing as he tossed unwanted scraps to a trio of waiting street dogs.
Silken robes and sturdy leathers hung from wooden racks, their vibrant colors catching the light, while traders from the southern reaches of the Empire haggled over the price of rare spices in a version of English so fucked up it honestly could have been a new language. A blacksmith, his face streaked with soot, pounded a fresh blade against his anvil, the ringing steel a rhythmic counter to the chaos of the crowd.
As I strode through the streets, the crowd shifted around me. Conversations hushed. Heads turned. Eyes locked onto mine, then darted away just as quickly, as if afraid to linger too long. The people here knew what my inhuman violet eyes were. What the black robe signified. Their movements became subtle yet precise stepping aside just enough to clear my path, backs straightening, heads dipping in acknowledgment. Not quite fear, but something close.
As I moved deeper into the market, the ebb and flow of the crowd continued to shift around me, people parting instinctively to give me space. Just minutes ago, a child had nearly stumbled into me, but this time, one actually did. A boy, no older than seven, ran straight into my side, bouncing off and landing on the dusty ground with a soft thud.
His parents froze. Their faces drained of all color as they scrambled to pull him away, their hands shaking as they clutched his small frame to their chests. The father opened his mouth, probably to beg, but no words came. The mother looked one breath away from collapsing.
I sigh in exasperation this newfound sense of importance placed onto me is starting to get annoying "Relax, It's fine no harm done," I muttered dryly, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve. My words only made their fear spike further likely mistaking my annoyance of their Elite treatment as anger towards the small child running into me.