I began walking quickly toward the alley, my pulse picking up with each step.

The woman was still there, moving with purposeful strides deeper into the narrow passage between buildings. Brown hair, the right build.

Please be her. Please.

I was maybe ten feet away when she suddenly turned, her face coming into view as she greeted someone emerging from a side door.

And... she was not Agnes.

Completely different face. Rounder features, darker eyes, younger by several years.

The breath left my lungs in a disappointed exhale.

Of course it wasn't her. That would've been too easy.

I stopped walking, running a hand through my hair in frustration. The woman and her companion disappeared into the building, their conversation fading.

Idiot. Getting your hopes up over nothing.

Then I turned to head back.

And stopped.

When I saw it... the alley looked different from this angle.

The buildings all looked the same, weathered stone, narrow windows, identical doors. I'd been so focused on following that woman I hadn't paid attention to where I was going.

Which way did I come from?

I looked left. Then right. Both directions looked equally unfamiliar in the gathering shadows.

I facepalmed, the sound echoing slightly in the confined space.

Great. Just fucking great. Lost in Greyford while Victor's probably already finished in the shop and wondering where the hell I went.

I started walking, picking a direction at random and hoping it would lead back to something recognizable. The alley twisted and turned, branching off into even narrower passages. The sounds of the main street felt distant, muffled.

This is fine. Just keep walking. You'll find your way back eventually.

Probably.

Then a voice cut through my thoughts, cheerful and oddly loud in the quiet alley.

"Come here, young man! I have something special for you!"

I turned.

And saw a man stood beside what could barely be called a stall, more like a rickety wooden table propped against the wall in a shadowed alcove where absolutely no one in their right mind would think to set up shop.

The location was absurd, tucked into a corner where foot traffic would be nonexistent.

But the merchant himself was... striking. Tall and lean, with wild grey hair that stuck up at odd angles like he'd forgotten what a comb was. His eyes were a bright, unsettling red that seemed to catch what little light filtered into the alley.

He wore clothes that didn't quite match, a fine burgundy coat over a simple linen shirt, expensive boots paired with worn trousers.

And he was smiling, like I was an old friend he'd been waiting for.

"I've got exactly what you're looking for!" He waved several books at me, the movement enthusiastic, almost manic.

My eyebrows rose.

What the...?

"I don't think—" I started.

"Nonsense!" He interrupted, still smiling. "Everyone's looking for something. And I," he tapped his temple with one finger "I always know what people need before they do. It's a gift. Or a curse. Depends on the day."

He gestured at his table with a flourish. "Come, come! Just a look. No obligation. Well, minimal obligation. Mostly theoretical obligation."

Despite every instinct telling me to just walk away and find my way back to Victor, curiosity got the better of me.

What kind of merchant sets up in a place like this?

I approached slowly, keeping one hand near my sword out of habit.

The man's smile widened impossibly further. "Excellent choice! I'm Gerald, by the way. Purveyor of rare goods." He didn't offer his hand to shake, just immediately started pulling things from beneath his table. "Now, let's see what speaks to you..."

He laid out his wares with practiced efficiency.

Books, but not normal ones. Their covers shimmered faintly with what looked like enchantments, titles written in languages I didn't recognize. One seemed to change its title every time I looked away and back.

Small vials filled with liquids that glowed softly, blues, greens, purples.

A compass that pointed in seven different directions at once.

A pair of glasses that, according to Gerald's rapid explanation, "let you see three seconds into the future, but only on Tuesdays."

I'd never seen anything like any of this. Not at the Academy, not in the estate's collection, nowhere.

What the hell kind of operation is this?

Then Gerald pulled out something that made me stop breathing.

It looked like an official document, expensive parchment, ornate borders, impressive seals.

But the heading read: "Royal Academy, Official Credentials."

My eyes widened. "This...?"

"Ah!" Gerald's smile turned knowing. "Caught your eye, did it? Yes, yes. Very popular item. Official-looking Academy credentials. Completely customizable. Name, rank, specialization, all of it. Looks absolutely authentic because, well..." he leaned in conspiratorially "It is authentic."

"That's illegal," I said automatically.

"Is it?" Gerald tilted his head. "Or is it just frowned upon? There's a difference, you know. One gets you arrested. The other just gets you disapproving looks."

Before I could respond, he was already moving on, pulling out more items.

"But perhaps that's not what you need! Perhaps you need..." He rummaged beneath the table. "Ah! Here we are!"

He held up my sword.

I blinked. Looked down at my hip.

My sword was gone.

When the hell—?

"This!" Gerald announced. "Beautiful piece. Standard issue, but you've made modifications. Clever ones. I can tell quality work when I see it." He examined it with genuine appreciation. "I'll take this as payment for..."

"Wait, I didn't agree to—"

"This!"

Then he shoved a small vial into my hands before I could finish protesting. The liquid inside was deep crimson, almost black, swirling with internal light.

"First purchase gift!" Gerald explained cheerfully. "Customer appreciation. Building lasting relationships."

"What?" I stared at the vial, then at him. "I didn't purchase anything!"

He waved his hand dismissively. "The sword's payment enough. Consider us square."

This guy just robbed me and is acting like he did me a favor.

But something made me pause. The vial felt... different. Heavy in a way that had nothing to do with physical weight.

I activated my debug vision, focusing on the liquid.

[Item Analysis]

item_name: "Elixir of Mana Expansion"

type: "consumable_potion"

rarity: "legendary"

effect: "Permanently increases Mana Capacity by +100"

authenticity: "genuine"

market_value: "not_available"

My breath caught.

Hundred.... Hundred points of permanent mana capacity.

That was... that was insane. Potions like this didn't exist. Or if they did, they were locked away in royal vaults or held by the most powerful mages in the kingdom.

And this cheerful lunatic just handed me one like it was a free sample.

"How did you—" I started.

But a hand gripped my shoulder, hard enough to make me wince.

"What are you doing here?"

I startled, spinning around, my hand instinctively moving to hide the vial in my coat pocket.

Victor stood behind me, jaw set, eyes dark with barely controlled fury.

"I—" I began.

Victor's grip tightened. "Why the hell did you come here? I told you to wait with the horses."

"I just saw—" I turned to gesture at Gerald, to point at the absurd stall and maybe use it as an excuse.

But the alcove was empty.

No table. No books. No glowing vials or items.

Just weathered stone wall and shadows.

Gerald was gone. Completely. Like he'd never been there at all.

What the fuck?

"You thought you saw what?" Victor demanded, his voice dropping to something dangerous.

I stared at the empty space, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing... or not seeing.

The vial was still in my pocket. Solid. Proof that the last few minutes had actually happened.

But everything else had vanished.

"Nothing," I said finally, turning back to Victor. "I got turned around. Lost track of where the shop was."

Victor's eyes narrowed, clearly not buying it but also clearly too angry to care about the details.

"We're leaving," he said. "Now. And when we get back to the inn, we're having a conversation about following simple fucking instructions."

He didn't release my shoulder, just steered me forcibly back toward the main street, his grip tight enough to bruise.

I let him guide me, too distracted to resist.

My sword was gone.

A merchant had traded it for a legendary potion.

And I had absolutely no explanation for any of it.

What the hell just happened?

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