Page 3 of Starlit Bargains

“Out!” Madam Wisteria's face had gone pale, her eyes wide with shock and anger. “Get out of my shop this instant, you reckless, untrained?—”

“It was an accident,” Kai protested, reaching for his purchased items. “Look, I'll pay for the damage?—”

“OUT!” she bellowed, her voice carrying an edge of power that made the jars on the shelves rattle. “And don't you dare come back, Thornhaven dog!”

Kai grabbed his packages and backed toward the exit, bumping into a shelf and nearly sending a row of bottled tinctures crashing to the floor. By the time he stumbled out into the marketplace, his heart was racing, and his face burned with embarrassment.

“Smooth, Everwood,” he muttered to himself, hastily shoving the parcels into his pack. “Real smooth.”

It was only then that he noticed the silence that had fallen over the nearby stalls. Vendors and customers alike were staring at him, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility. Someone whispered something that sounded suspiciously like “witch,” and it wasn't said kindly.

Kai pulled his hood up, ducking his head as he tried to walk casually away from Madam Wisteria's tent. The last thing he needed was to create a scene. Silas would never let him hear the end of it if he got himself banned from yet another village.

“Nothing to see here,” he called out with forced cheerfulness. “Just a small... fire-related mishap. All under control now.”

No one looked convinced. In fact, a burly man with arms like tree trunks had started moving toward him, his expression decidedly unfriendly.

Time to go, Kai decided, turning to head back the way he'd come.

That's when a hand clamped around his wrist, strong and unyielding.

“This way,” said a low voice, and before Kai could respond, he was being pulled sideways, down a narrow alley between two buildings that he hadn't even noticed before.

His first instinct was to resist, to reach for one of the hidden knives in his boots, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the firm but not painful grip on his wrist, or the way the stranger moved with purpose rather than menace. Or maybe it was simple curiosity—a trait that Silas often claimed would be the death of him someday.

The alley was dim and cool, shadowed by the overhanging upper stories of the buildings on either side. Laundry lines criss-crossed overhead, and the smell of cooking food wafted from somewhere nearby. After several twists and turns through what felt like a maze, they emerged into a small, secluded courtyard, enclosed on all sides by the backs of shops and homes.

Only then did his rescuer—or captor, Kai hadn't quite decided which—release his wrist and turn to face him.

And oh.

Oh.

Kai prided himself on his ability to maintain his composure in any situation, but he found himself momentarily speechless. The man standing before him was... well, “pretty” didn't quite cover it. He was striking in a way that made Kai's chest tighten inexplicably.

Tall and lean, with shoulder-length hair so pale it appeared almost silver in the dappled sunlight, the stranger regarded Kaiwith eyes so deeply blue they seemed to glow from within. His features were sharp, almost severe—high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a jawline that could probably cut glass. He wore simple, dark clothing that draped over his form in a way that suggested both comfort and concealment.

But it was the aura around him that truly caught Kai's attention. Not an actual, visible aura (though Kai had seen those too, on certain beings), but a sense of contained power, like the stillness before a storm. It made the small hairs on the back of Kai's neck stand up—not unpleasantly, but with a tingling awareness that whispered:This one is different.

The stranger's expression was stern, almost disapproving. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he asked, his voice low and melodic despite the harsh words.

Kai found his voice, along with his usual defensive humor. “Generally not on my to-do list, no. Though I appreciate the rescue from what I'm sure would have been a thoroughly unpleasant experience.” He offered his hand. “Kai Everwood. Thanks for the timely intervention, mysterious stranger.”

The man ignored his outstretched hand, instead crossing his arms over his chest. “You shouldn't be using magic here, especially not so carelessly. This village doesn't welcome outsiders who flaunt their power.”

“I wasn't flaunting anything,” Kai protested, letting his hand drop to his side. “It was an accident. Sometimes my magic just... happens.”

A flicker of something—surprise? interest?—crossed the stranger's face before his expression returned to careful neutrality. “Untrained, then. Even worse.”

“I prefer 'self-taught with an emphasis on practical applications,'” Kai replied with a grin that wasn't returned. “And you are...?”

For a moment, it seemed like the man might not answer. Then, reluctantly: “Eliar.”

“Just Eliar? No last name, no mysterious title, no 'Defender of Convenient Alleyways'?”

“Just Eliar.” His tone made it clear that further questions on the subject wouldn't be welcome.

“Well, 'Just Eliar,'” Kai said, shifting his pack more securely onto his shoulder, “while I appreciate the rescue, I should probably be going. Places to be, people waiting for overpriced herbs, you know how it is.”

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