The Antique Shop on Gloom

Asterin wandered through Gloom Avenue in a daze, narrowly avoiding several clashes with her fellow citizens. Her feet ached from running all the way from the norther districts to the southern reaches, as there was no time to pause and rest in case that man continued to follow her.

Thankfully, these markets hosted a mixture of natives to the Lower City and those from the Upper City—most notable by those flexing the latest technologies on their wrists, heads, and wherever else they could fit it on their bodies. Meanwhile if you were one of the lucky ones, or in a unique situation like Asterin, the best tech one could afford was one of the older phone models that any business would have a charger for.

Yet still, countless homeless lingered in the areas you would need to squint past the neon lights to see. People—from veterans with stumped limbs to families with skeletal children—reached out to the young crowds that wandered the streets, begging for even an iron piece.

One child went so far as to tug on a man’s slacks. “May I have a piece of bread, sir?”

The man could not have been too old—perhaps in his mid-twenties… That is the adult for Humans, right? Yet the way he kicked the child back reminded Asterin of the bullies on school playgrounds. He smiled the entire time and shook his head.

“These clothes were made by Quutu on the Surface. Don’t sully them, please.” He wrapped his arm around his date and continued along the street.

Asterin narrowed her eyes. Withough thinking about it—and forgetting the entire reason she was in the markets—she followed the pair deeper into the massive crowd.

On Gloom Avenue, the streets weren’t lit by streetlight like the rest of the city. Instead, voidlights floated in the air—a remnant magick back from the days when the Kishpu-La’atzu House held more power in the capital than the Empress herself. Orbs that resembled a swirling abyss, they cast a haunted glow of violet over the street. Many compared it to the entrance to the Hells, a place many claimed to remember from a past life.

Asterin couldn’t say the same.

The couple stopped by a flower vendor. The man who had so easily kicked a poor child picked up a gathering of flowers so gently as though they would fall part at his touch.

Asterin leaned against a storefront, blending in quite easily with the other homeless people. She peered at the flowers a bit closer.

Buttercup and Cowslip… She mused. To show a newfound affection?

The man slipped a few coins into the florist’s hand, not seeming to care that a few of them were gold pieces for what would have easily been worth a silver and a handful of bronze. The vendor was quick to pocket it, red rising up his cheeks as a grin spread across his face.

Asterin smirked—a plan forming in her mind.

She pushed off the wall, following a few paces behind the couple.

“—though they could best me, ha!” The man chortled as he waved his hands in the air. “I used to train with the Berserkers before deciding a better life awaited me. So, they were no match against this fist of steel!” He held up a clenched fist as he spoke.

Asterin rolled her eyes, as did the man’s date.

Rushed footsteps behind her. She tensed.

“Have you seen a Kenra with brown hair and purple eyes?” Someone asked in between heavy breaths.

She needed to hurry and find shelter. But the man…

“I’m an emissary from Runda. She’s wanted for the murder…”

Asterin glared at the back of the man’s head, filing away his face for later as she ducked into the first shop she could find.

A bell jingled above her. The door’s movement brought with it a gentle breeze, which stirred up dust until it sparkled in the air.

Shelves upon shelves of curios greeted her. There seemed to be a bit of everything. Clothing allegedly blessed by the Oracles, armor that shimmered with enchantments, small mechanical devices that seemed like prototypes of the latest tech… there seemed to be no limit to what wares the shop possessed.

Asterin took a step closer to the main area of the shop. She should pretend to be a normal customer, right?

She walked closer to shelves holding various volumes of books. There were even tomes about some of the old pantheons, which Asterin thought had long since been burned in the Great Cleansing over a century ago.

No one stood behind the shopkeeper’s desk, though there was a cup of tea sitting beside the stool with steam still rising from its copper depths. Asterin took a deep breath, smiling at the sweet, floral fragrance. White tea with a hint of sugar and cream. Her brother’s favorite.

She trailed her fingers against a nearby glass display. Jewelry glimmered underneath, some made of gems Asterin didn’t recognize. They must have come from the Surface. Further beyond on a wall display, chained behind a myriad of enchanted runes, were racks on racks of weapons. Perhaps for the self-proclaimed enforcers who loved to patrol these corners of the city but wouldn’t venture to the southern alleys.

A curtain hung from the back wall, which must have led tot he back of the shop where the shopkeeper could be. Asterin elected to continue browsing before finding a new place to hide, finding more shelves filled to the brim with books. Some caught her eye, especially one that declared to know the truth about the Divines.

Dede would have loved these , Asterin thought as she fingered some of the leather spines. Guilt immediately welled up in her, along with the phantom screams from that night oh-so-many years ago.

She stepped away from the shelves. No, she shouldn’t be thinking about him. The less she did, the less chance that she would seek him out. He deserved a better sister, a better twin, than her.

Asterin had avoided letting him know the details of her marriage to that terrible man, and when he was held accountable for his crimes and his title stripped—she knew she would have had a home with Deimos. But…

Don’t you think he stuck you with me for a reason? She winced as she remembered the crooked grin the Duke sent her way. Instead of letting you marry that dreadedly boorish man?

A pang in her heart. Why were her cheeks wet? She wiped them away, shaking her hands as she turned to find something else to distract herself with.

The curtain swung open, then, revealing a crooked old woman with a face covered in cakey makeup. She was muttering to herself as she swept behind the desk.

Both froze when they noted the other.

The old woman frowned; her eyes exceptionally big behind a thick pair of glasses.

“No, no, no .” The woman rounded the corner of the counter with far more speed than one her age should have been able to, raising the broom in warning. “You go tell that bastard Faraldin that I will not be throttled into another price hike.”

Asterin jumped back, her hands up in surrender. “I’m not involved with him, I swear!”

“Sure, you’re not.” Swing! Thwack!!

Pain blossomed across Asterin’s cheek as her vision swam. She raised her left hand, touching the skin in shock.

“Now just what…” The old woman reached forward but Asterin was quick to jump back.

“What is wrong with you?” Asterin said, eyes wide as the woman’s demeanor softened, her focus on Asterin’s raised hand.

“Let me see your hand or I’ll hit you again!”

Not wanting to provoke her, Asterin complied, reaching out gingerly with her left hand.

The woman grabbed it, tugging her forward with more strength than she looked capable of wielding.

The shopkeeper examined the back of her hand, mumbling nonsense to herself in the Common tongue.

“You come from the House of Starlight, don’t you, child?”

This would be the time to lie. It had to be. Her family’s name—their House—it only brought death in destruction. It was the entire reason Deimos fled the Skies to join the Wanderers after their uncle’s death. No one wanted to claim the name of “Kishpu-La’atzu.”

But as she stared down at this woman, she recognized a glint of knowledge—and all too familiar fear—in her eyes. There would be no point in trying to fight it. She could continue playing pretend.

The shopkeeper’s hand was warm as it held her own. So different from the familiar coldness she was used to from having her ex-husband as her sole point of physical contact for the greater part of a century.

Which is why…

“Yes, I am the second child of the House.”

There was no gasp, no jumping away from her as though her very skin was poison. No… this woman instead cocked her head to the side, examining Asterin from top to bottom.

“So, you’re the false heir, then? Been on the run for quite a few months. Everyone thought you would be dead by now.”

Asterin quirked an eyebrow. “I thought they would be more interested in my husband’s whereabouts.”

The woman shrugged. “You were more loved. The Jewel of the Skies. We used to call you so with pride.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “How quickly everyone turned on you when it was your husband who committed highest treason.”

“But you didn’t?” The sound of armor clinking outside caught Asterin’s attention. Her hands warmed. Where would she run?

The old woman cocked her head to the side. “I have a feeling we won’t be able to discuss as much today. But no, I didn’t. Some of us see reason instead of being overrun with fear. It’s better to let go of the pains of the past than hang on to them and ruin our present.”

But Asterin was more focused on the growing number of Guardians outside. To make matters worse, some Berserkers and Guardsmen were joining up with them as well, trying to figure out what brought their presence.

“None of you have any jurisdiction here,” a Guardsmen said. “You leave these boroughs to fend for themselves while you protect the high and might blokes in the Upper districts. Tell us who you’re after and we’ll handle it just fine.”

“We go where the Empress directs us. And, unlike you, we have nothing holding us back from that goal.”

Asterin’s hands began to shake. They were crowding near the doorway.

She swung around to face the old woman, who was organizing some of the shelves Asterin perused earlier.

“If you still see me in a positive light, surely you have a way for me to avoid getting arrested tonight?”

The woman hummed and plucked a few books off the shelf. “I don’t need any Guardians running amok in my shop. As you’ve probably seen, not all of this was gathered by the Valkyr.”

Asterin bit her lip, thinking fast. “What about Faraldin? You fear he’s gonna give you another price spike, right? That usually means he’s down on workers.” The rotten bastard was notorious for his taxes—double that of the Kratise Brothers—but he otherwise seemed like a good man, always willing to offer others work. Asterin avoided him like the plague, afraid he would sell her off to the highest bidder. But if she went there for business…

“He did place an order a few weeks ago. Most of the children are too scrawny to survive the trip to North Vil.” The old woman peered down at Asterin, a grimace lacing her wrinkled face. “Not that you’re much better, darling. But you’ve made it this far.”

The shopkeeper brought a pile of selected books to the front counter, taking her time wrapping them individually and placing them in a satchel.

Asterin fiddled her fingers, tapping her foot as she reverted to an old habit—her Sight. Focusing on her vision and what she could see, the world around her shifted until the energies of the world—both magickal and natural—revealed themselves to her. It would give her a headache if she stared for too long, so she made sure to take everything fast. Only the light, calming blue of sincerity surrounded the shopkeeper. No trace of yellow or imminent betrayal.

“And one more thing,” the old woman went to the racks of clothes shuffled into one corner of the store, pulling out a cloak engraved with silver sigils. “It’s enchanted to confuse whoever is looking at you into think you’re someone else. Like a glamour, without actually changing your form.”

Asterin exchanged the cloak with a tattered one that had come with her all the way from that dreaded night months ago. The shopkeeper gagged as she dropped it into a nearby trash bin.

“Now,” the old woman handed the bag to Asterin, “go ahead before they storm my shop. And keep that bastard from raising his tax!”

Asterin nodded and walked out the door. She kept her pace at a normal glide down the stairs, making sure not to stare too much or too little at the gathered crowd of reinforcements—who seemed much more focused on each other than their surroundings.

On the other side of them, propped against a wall, sat the young man that had chased her all this way. Though now that she was closer, she could tell he was in fact not a man—but a merfolk of some sort. A healer knelt in front of him, dabbing at his mouth that was stained blue. His head rolled to the side, his golden eyes landing on her.

Asterin tensed, waiting for him to start yelling at her, but his eyes slowly closed—his body falling limp to the ground.

The healer yelled out to the Guardians, who rushed over to him.

But Asterin was already turned around, heading back to the northern districts.