The Red Vein no longer slept.
By day it was a tavern, by night it was a marketplace, and by dawn it was an accounting office that smelled of mead and ambition. Daniel had officially declared it "the beating heart of Frostheim's economy."Lumiel called it "a social experiment in capitalism and chaos."
Both were right.
Rune-Tickers and Shareholders
It began when Daniel walked in carrying a mountain of parchment.
"We can't keep trading loot by memory," he said."That's what brains are for," Lumiel replied, sipping Crimson Frost Ale at 10 a.m."Your brain stores song lyrics and regret. Not ledgers."
So Daniel built something new — a share system.Each raid, mine, and brewery received a value. Investors could buy portions of profits, marked with glowing runes that updated automatically through Red Code.
Lumiel, naturally, found a way to make it spectacular.He carved Red Code sigils into hovering crystals that projected glowing numbers and market icons across the tavern ceiling.
"Behold!" he said, throwing his arms wide. "Frostheim's first stock exchange!""In a bar," Daniel muttered."Innovation requires alcohol."
The traders loved it. Ice-Elf merchants and Celestara artisans gathered beneath the flickering lights, shouting bids as luminous runes shifted value.Within a week, shares replaced silver as Frostheim's true currency.
The First Trade War
Success, of course, bred drama.
Two rival ship captains—both investors in the same raid route—started arguing over profit splits in the middle of the tavern.
"You changed the rune values!" one accused."You sank your own ship!" the other shouted."Because your cargo was cursed!""Gentlemen," Lumiel said, stepping between them, "we settle disputes here the civilized way—through gambling."
He pointed to the stage, where Luminous stood tuning her harp.
"Winner of tonight's betting game gets controlling shares. Loser buys the next round."They stared, confused."That's… actually fair," Daniel admitted."Of course it is," Lumiel said. "I'm a genius of unnecessary fairness."
The tension melted into laughter. The Red Vein's reputation grew—part tavern, part court, part stock house.
Laura's Expansion
Meanwhile, Laura's brewery outgrew its cellar.She opened a second distillery near the docks, guarded by runes and Ice-Elf sentinels.
"I can't believe we're exporting alcohol to angels," she said, counting barrels."Even the divine need coping mechanisms," Lumiel replied.
The Crimson Frost Guild was born. Laura became its master brewer, hiring alchemist apprentices from Celestara and paying them in profit shares.
Her experiments created new drinks—Aurora Mead: restores magic flow.Frostbite Whiskey: numbs fear.Solar Red: sets tongues on fire and inspires poetry, often terrible.
Klaus and Eira's Quiet Growth
While the city thrived, Frostheim's rulers learned to breathe again.
Eira inspected new docks with Klaus, her long hair glimmering with frostlight.
"Your brother's inventions are… unorthodox.""So is success," Klaus replied.
She smiled, rare and unguarded.
"I used to think humans only brought fire and ruin. You've brought something stranger—hope that tastes like rebellion.""And alcohol," Klaus said."Mostly alcohol," she agreed, laughing softly.
Their hands brushed while reviewing blueprints. Neither pulled away.
Night at the Red Vein
That evening, the Red Vein was brighter than ever.Music echoed, coins shimmered, and glowing rune-tickers filled the air like constellations. The people of Frostheim had begun to believe in prosperity—and in themselves.
Lumiel stood behind the bar with a grin.
"We've officially turned plunder into progress."Daniel raised his glass. "And chaos into cash flow."Laura clinked hers. "And headaches into hangovers."
Luminous smiled from the stage.
"To Frostheim," she said, voice carrying through the crowd."Where shadows trade secrets and dreamers trade gold."
The toast erupted through the hall.
Above the city, the aurora shimmered crimson and gold. Below, in the flicker of Red Code and laughter, a new kind of empire was being born—not from conquest, but from creation.