The sun flooded the cobbled streets of Orario with a generous, almost festive light. The Northwest District, usually businesslike and austere, today seemed like a lively anthill. Merchants threw open their shutters, displaying their wares, and the smell of fresh pastries mingled with the scents of expensive perfumes and heated stone.
Raine and Bell walked leisurely, enjoying a rare moment of idleness. Coins jingled pleasantly in their pockets—the result of yesterday's descent and a successful exchange at the Guild. However, despite the success, Raine's face was darker than a thundercloud.
"A fifth..." he muttered through his teeth, staring somewhere into the distance. "No, even less. One-sixth."
"Raine, are you still on about that?" Bell sighed, glancing sideways at his friend.
"And you're not?" Raine stopped abruptly, letting a cart with barrels pass. "Bell, remember that swindler who came to our village last winter. 'I'm doing you a favor, taking this trash off your hands,'" he mimicked the fence's oily voice. "We gave him goblin stones for pennies. For dust! And here, in the Guild, they give the price of a good lunch for just one such stone."
Bell smiled sadly.
"Well... we didn't know. We thought it was a normal price. And in the village, no one needs them except travelers."
"I understood he was marking up the price. Trade is trade, everyone needs to earn their bread and butter," Raine shook his head, and the cold annoyance of a professional who had been duped seeped through his voice. "But a markup of five or six times? That's no longer trade, Bell. That's daylight robbery disguised with a smile. On the stones we sold him over all that time, he probably bought himself some pretty nice gear."
"What's done is done," Bell noted optimistically.
"True enough," Raine exhaled, driving away the gloomy thoughts with an effort of will. The past could not be returned, but the future depended on how they spent their honestly earned Valis today. "Alright. Let's drop it. We have a more important task."
They stopped in front of a solid two-story shop with a sign reading "The Velvet Needle." The display window was tastefully decorated, without flashy luxury, but with a hint of quality.
"In here," Raine decided.
Inside, a pleasant coolness and the scent of lavender reigned. Behind the counter, deftly sorting through cuts of fabric, stood a pretty woman of about thirty with lush chestnut hair gathered in a tight bun. A measuring tape hung around her neck like a war trophy.
"Welcome to 'The Velvet Needle'!" she looked up at them, instantly assessing their simple travel clothes, but lingering on their confident posture. "My name is Elisa. Looking for something to survive the heat, or preparing for a special occasion?"
"We need both," Raine nodded. "My friend requires an outfit for... let's say, an unofficial meeting in polite society. Something elegant, but not pretentious. To emphasize his assets, but not look like a peacock."
Elisa shifted her gaze to Bell, and professional excitement flared in her eyes.
"Oh..." she drawled, coming around the counter. "What an interesting type. White hair, red eyes... A rarity in these parts. And the figure..." she unabashedly turned Bell by the shoulder. "Slender but toned. Youthful grace. Yes, I can work with this!"
The next half hour turned into fabric torture for Bell.
While Bell, red as a beet, hid in the fitting room, Raine made small talk with Elisa, selecting shirts.
"You're adventurers, aren't you?" she asked, smoothing a crease on a vest. "I can tell by the calluses on your hands and the way you hold yourselves."
"Beginners," Raine answered modestly. "Only got our licenses a couple of days ago."
"You wouldn't know it by the look in your eyes," Elisa noted, passing another set to Bell through the curtain. "Usually rookies look at the city with their mouths open. That's good. In Orario, the attentive ones survive... Come on now, young man, come out!"
The curtain was pulled back. Bell stood in dark blue trousers, a snow-white loose-fitting shirt, and a light gray vest.
Raine gave him a critical look and nodded.
"Not bad. Very not bad."
"He looks wonderful!" Elisa threw up her hands. "Like a hero from a book who just stepped off the pages! This vest color perfectly sets off his eyes!"
"We'll take it," Raine concluded. "And a couple more simple linen shirts for every day."
It seemed the deed was done. Raine took out his purse to pay. But then Elisa's eyes lit up with a strange, fanatical fire. She looked at Bell not as a customer, but as an artist at a perfect canvas that was a pity to let go unfinished.
"Wait!" she exclaimed, as Bell was about to change back. "We just got a new collection from the Far East! Tunics with wide sleeves! And also..." she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "there are cloaks with hoods that have decorative ears! You simply must try this on!"
"Um... no thanks, we're already..." Bell began, backing away.
"No 'no's!" Elisa darted to the racks with a speed unexpected for her build and returned with an armful of colorful clothes. She literally clung to Bell's arm. "I'll give you a discount! I'll give you a neckerchief! Just let me see how it fits! You're the perfect model!"
"Raine!" Bell squeaked in panic, looking at his friend with a plea for salvation.
Raine, having already paid for the selected items, calmly took the package from the counter. He looked at the shopkeeper's burning eyes, at the mountain of clothes, and at the horror in Bell's eyes. And smirked.
"Women in a fit of inspiration are a terrifying force, Bell," he noted philosophically. "I dare not interfere with art. I'll wait for you outside."
"Raine, you traitor!!!" Bell's wail was drowned in the depths of the shop as the energetic Elisa dragged him deeper into the hall.
Raine stepped out onto the street, and the door bell jingled melodiously behind him.
The noise of the shopping district washed over him. Raine stepped aside, standing under the shade of a cloth awning of a neighboring shop, and leaned his back against the wall. He loved moments like this. Moments when you could just stand and watch.
Orario was colorful. Races, styles, smells mixed here. A squad of dwarves passed, arguing loudly about ore prices. A group of pallums with huge backpacks slipped by. Elves, humans, beast-people—an endless kaleidoscope of lives.
Raine's gaze wandered lazily through the crowd until it snagged on something out of the ordinary rhythm.
On the opposite side of the street, slightly away from the main flow, stood a small mobile stall. Above it hung a crooked sign: "Jagamarukun: Delicious Potato Snacks!"
And behind the counter stood a girl.
Raine squinted slightly. There was something... unusual about her.
She was short, with two long black pigtails, and looked quite young. But her outfit would make even the boldest fashionistas of the city blush: a short white dress and a blue ribbon that by some miracle supported her very prominent curves.
But it wasn't about the outfit. Or the figure.
Raine watched her. The girl wasn't just standing there. She was present. It was as if there was a little more light around her than around everyone else. People walked by without noticing her, but to Raine, it seemed she was the only sharp object against a blurred background.
"Hey! Come on!" she shouted clearly, throwing up her hands. "Step right up! Buy some! It's the tastiest food in Orario! Hot, crunchy!"
There was no fawning of a street vendor in her voice. It sounded with a strange, almost regal confidence, mixed with childish spontaneity. She offered fried potatoes as if bestowing a blessing.
No one approached.
The girl puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked offended, like a child excluded from a game.
"Stupid humans!" she grumbled so loudly that Raine heard her even through the street noise. "Don't understand their own happiness!"
Then, looking around and making sure no one was watching (though Raine was watching intently), she grabbed one of the fried balls from the tray.
"Well, fine then! More for me!" she declared to herself and took a bite with relish.
An expression of absolute, pure bliss spread across her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, hummed something approving, and licked a crumb from her finger. In this gesture, there was so much life, so much simple, undisguised joy of being, that Raine involuntarily smiled.
"Strange," he thought. "There is no tension in her. No greed. She... just is. And that is enough for her."
She didn't look rich—quite the opposite, her outfit was worn, and the stall was old. She clearly wasn't successful—business was going terribly. But at the same time, no hopelessness emanated from her. She radiated warmth. Like a small, cozy hearth in the middle of a cold market square.
She finished the potato, wiped her hands on her short apron, and again assumed a "combat stance," chin raised proudly, ready to shout at passersby again, offering them her simple treat.
Raine caught himself thinking that this picture—a girl fighting the indifference of the crowd with the help of fried potatoes and pride—evoked a strange sympathy in him. She seemed more human than many people he had met in recent days.
The shop door behind him flew open, and Bell fell out onto the street, staggering. He looked disheveled and exhausted, as if after a floor boss fight.
"I... I escaped..." he exhaled, convulsively clutching bags of purchases to his chest.
Raine tore his gaze away from the black-haired potato seller and looked at his friend.
"Alive?" he smirked. "Excellent. You've passed your baptism by fashion."
"It was scary," Bell admitted honestly.
"I believe you. Let's go."
They moved away down the street. Raine cast a final glance at the stall. The girl was shouting something to passersby again, waving her hand energetically. He didn't know who she was, but for some reason, he was sure their paths would cross again. In Orario, such bright sparks rarely fade unnoticed.
"By the way," Raine said when they had moved a safe distance away. "The suit fit you perfectly. Eina will appreciate it."
Bell smiled shyly, fixing his tousled hair.
"I hope so."
Raine slapped him on the shoulder and smiled broadly. "You'll knock her dead!"