As they walked deeper into the market rows, Lira's eyes widened with wonder.
Stalls stretched in every direction, bursting with color and life. There were racks of shimmering clothes stitched with enchanted thread, trays of delicate jewelry humming with protective charms, glass bottles filled with swirling spells, and even small magical creatures nestled in padded crates—each one chittering or glowing in its own curious way. The air buzzed with voices—some bartering, others laughing, and a few whispering in hushed, urgent tones.
Drawn by something she couldn't quite name, Lira wandered toward a quieter corner where a small stall sat surrounded by lush greenery. Her steps slowed as she approached the display—pots of rare plants lined up in neat rows, their leaves pulsing with subtle color. Some were soft and glowing, others spiny or tightly coiled. Jars of dried herbs sat neatly stacked beside them, each labeled in elegant script she didn't recognize.
Behind the stall stood an old man with silver hair tied back in a long braid, his sharp eyes following her movements. He wore a deep green robe embroidered with symbols that looked like roots and stars.
Lira gave him a polite nod. "Good day. I've never seen plants like these—even in the greenhouse near the Academy."
The old man smiled, his eyes crinkling. "Ah, that's no surprise, young one. These aren't from around here. They're brought from far lands—places where the soil sings and the wind speaks in colors. I make the journey each year and try to sell a few, but most folk don't know how to care for them… or what they're worth."
Lira stepped closer, carefully inspecting the plants. Fluffy padded up beside her and gently rubbed against her leg, purring faintly.
As she moved her hand over the potted herbs, something stirred in her. A quiet certainty. Every plant here—every root and leaf—held potent properties. Her senses, newly attuned through training, whispered to her of their strength: ingredients for clarity, healing, amplification, even protection. She could feel it.
She remembered Master Therin's words:
"If anything catches your attention—let me know."
Without hesitation, she raised her hand and softly whistled. From above, a shimmer of light formed into the shape of a small bird—its feathers glowing in soft rainbow hues. The messenger bird chirped once, then darted off into the sky in a streak of color.
Moments later, Therin appeared beside her, his cloak trailing slightly behind as he approached. He glanced at the plants, then at the old man behind the stall.
"Ah yes," Therin said with a hint of amusement in his voice, "Old Wise Merlin."
The old man laughed heartily. "Well, well, Therin! I honestly didn't expect to see you here. I thought you'd be holed up in your potion rooms for another five moons. Still chasing formulas in the dark, are you?"
Therin smirked. "Only when they run fast enough to be worth chasing."
Lira blinked, looking between them. "You know each other?"
"Of course," Merlin said, puffing up slightly. "Therin was once my apprentice. For a short time—until he got too clever and ran off to make his own rules."
Therin raised an eyebrow. "Some of your rules needed rewriting."
Merlin let out another warm laugh. "That they did, boy. That they did."
Lira smiled, watching them with new eyes. Something about seeing her stern master banter with an old friend made him feel… more human. And for the first time, she wondered how much of his past still lived quietly behind his composed gaze.
Therin glanced at Lira, then at the plants. "You noticed these, did you?" he said, his tone approving. "I knew you'd find something worthwhile eventually. Your instincts are sharpening."
Lira flushed slightly, both proud and unsure. She looked at the collection again, her fingers gently brushing a soft-leafed violet plant that smelled faintly of stars. Every single one called to her. Their energy, their uniqueness… she couldn't choose.
"You can send them to the Academy greenhouses," Therin continued, "under your name. And your care. There's no problem with that. Just decide which ones."
Lira's brows drew together. She stepped back, scanning the rows. But every plant looked perfect. Too perfect. She shook her head slowly. "I… I can't choose. They're all so rare. So useful. I wouldn't want to leave any behind."
Therin studied her for a moment, then turned to Merlin with a knowing half-smile. "Well, it seems you've found yourself a good customer this time."
He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a small crystal seal, etched with the mark of the Sanctum. "We'll take them all. Have them sent directly to the Academy—Sanctum Greenhouse. Mark them under Lira's care."
Merlin let out a rich, satisfied laugh. "You got yourself a fine apprentice, Therin. If she's making you buy everything, she must be special indeed."
Therin chuckled. "More than you know."
Fluffy let out a soft chirp of agreement and brushed against Lira again, as if proud too.
As the last of the potted plants vanished into the enchanted transport crate, glowing faintly with the Academy's seal, Therin turned to his old master.
"Well then, Merlin, until next time," he said with a respectful nod.
Merlin gave a lazy wave, his eyes twinkling. "Take care of that apprentice of yours. She might surprise you yet."
Therin smirked. "She already has."
With that, they stepped away from the plant stall, the crowd parting naturally around them. The marketplace buzzed on—colors, smells, and chatter filling the air like music.
Therin walked with purpose, weaving through rows of booths and sellers. "There's a row of potion stalls just ahead," he told Lira. "Some good ingredients, a few rare brews. We can see what they offer—or if you want to try selling something yourself, it's allowed."
Lira's eyes lit up. "Really? I didn't know students were allowed to sell in Arvellien."
"Not all students," Therin said, glancing sideways at her. "But you're under my mentorship now. That changes things."
They turned a corner, and suddenly the air shifted—thicker with the scent of herbs, minerals, and faint traces of bubbling brews. Stalls lined both sides of the street, draped in deep greens and purples, glass bottles catching the sunlight. Some potions shimmered with moving colors; others pulsed gently in rhythm with heartbeats.
One vendor was stirring something that glowed like moonlight. Another poured liquid into a vial and it fizzed with sparks.
Lira slowed her steps, her gaze wide with awe. "I've never seen so many at once…"
"Good," Therin said. "Watch carefully. You'll learn more from this than any book."
Fluffy leapt onto a barrel and sniffed at a display of scent-based spell oils, sneezing from a puff of something peppery.
Lira smiled. "Do you think anyone would buy one of my sleep draughts? I made a new version last week…"
"Let's find out," Therin said. "And if they don't buy, they'll at least give you feedback. Either way, you win."
As they reached the potion stalls, Therin slowed his pace and leaned slightly toward Lira.
"Watch this," he said with a sly smile. "This is how you banter. You'll try it later—just choose the items you like."
He stepped forward with ease, hands behind his back, eyes scanning the rows of bottles. Each one glowed differently—some shimmered like sunrise, others swirled with shadow or sparks.
Therin pointed at a thin violet vial, then picked up another, twisting it gently between his fingers. "Hmm… not bad," he muttered, almost to himself, then glanced up at the seller with a smirk. "But this one's potion mark is a little... thin. Made in a rush?"
The seller—a stocky woman with silver-threaded braids and thick gloves—raised an eyebrow. "That's top-grade elixir, Master Alchemist. Carefully brewed for seven nights."
"Seven nights, but not stirred during moonfall," Therin said smoothly. "I can tell."
The woman blinked, then gave a small grin. "Sharp eyes."
"Old habit," he said, shrugging. "I'll take it. But not for ten crowns. Five. It's not moon-stirred."
She laughed. "Seven. You're bold."
"Six and a dash of respect for a returning customer," Therin countered, already pulling coins from his pouch.
"Deal."
They exchanged coin and vial, both looking pleased.
Lira had stood quietly nearby, watching every motion, every word. The way Therin's tone shifted—light but clever, not rude, just firm. How he complimented and challenged in the same breath.
He turned to her, slipping the bottle into his pouch. "Did you catch that?"
She nodded slowly. "I think so…"
"Good," he said. "Your turn soon. Don't worry—you'll get the hang of it."
Fluffy flicked its tail and meowed softly, as if to agree.
Lira walked slowly along the stall, eyes wide at the glowing rows of potions. So many strange colors and shimmering textures—like captured storms, bottled laughter, liquid dreams.
Her gaze stopped on one in particular: a silvery potion swirling inside a moon-shaped vial. The label was written in elegant script:
"Mooncall Elixir – pour into lake under starlight to summon silver bloom."
She picked it up gently. The liquid shifted as if alive, and Lira's heart stirred with quiet excitement. What kind of flower would bloom? What could it be used for?
She turned to the seller, a thin man with dark eyes and fingers stained from constant brewing.
"How much for this one?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
He looked at her, assessing. "Twelve crowns."
Lira blinked, remembering Therin's words, then tilted her head slightly. "Twelve? It doesn't even come with a guarantee the bloom appears. What if the lake is too small? Or too deep? Or if there are clouds?"
The man chuckled. "It works. I've sold it to moon-farmers and seers alike."
"But you can't know the flower's quality—or if it's even useful," she pressed, feeling braver. "It could just be pretty. Six crowns."
He narrowed his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Eight. It's rare. Banned in northern lands."
"Seven," Lira said quickly. "And you tell me what flower it brings."
Therin, a few steps away, looked over with a faint grin.
The seller nodded slowly. "Seven. The bloom is called Noctalis. Only lives one night. But in that time… it sings."
Lira's eyes widened. "It sings?"
"Soft hum only those with attuned hearing notice. Alchemists say it can enchant waters or lull curses asleep."
Lira handed him the coins with careful fingers, cradling the vial as if it were a moon itself. She stepped back, proud and amazed.
Therin joined her, his voice warm. "Not bad. You pushed, asked the right questions, and got a price and a secret."
Lira smiled, cheeks glowing. "I want to hear that flower sing."
"You will," he said, leading her toward the next row. "And next time, maybe you'll banter better than me."
As the last light of day began to fade, casting soft amber shadows over the city of Arvellien, Master Therin turned to Lira. "That's enough market noise for one day," he said, his tone calm now, settled. "Let's head to where we'll be staying."
They left the rows of stalls behind, winding through quieter streets lined with old stone houses and lanterns that flickered to life as dusk deepened. Their inn stood at the edge of a small square, ivy climbing its walls and a wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze.
Inside, it smelled of warm bread and lavender. The innkeeper handed them keys and pointed them to their rooms.
Before heading to his own, Therin paused and looked at Lira seriously, though kindly. "Tomorrow morning, the competition begins. You'll be in it."
Her eyes widened, but he held up a hand. "Don't be afraid. You've got skill—more than most your age. You just need rest now. Sleep well, Lira."
She nodded slowly, the nerves fluttering behind her calm face.
Lira opened the door to her room and stepped inside. It was small but cozy—soft blankets, a little writing desk, and a window that looked out toward the moonlit roofs. Fluffy padded in behind her, tail twitching, then leapt gracefully onto the bed.
She set her pouch down gently, her fingers still remembering the weight of the earned coins. Then, without needing to be asked, Fluffy curled up beside her. Lira lay down and pulled the covers around them both, the warmth of her familiar comforting against her side.
She stared at the ceiling for a moment, thinking of the potions, the strange plants, the silver-swirled liquid... and the challenge ahead. Her heart beat a little faster—but Therin's words echoed in her mind.
You've got skill. More than most your age.
With a deep breath and a hand resting on Fluffy's soft fur, her eyes closed.
Tomorrow would come soon.