The old man stepped aside, gesturing me into the shop with a wave of his gnarled hand. "Come in, come in. Mind the clutter—some of these trinkets bite back if you're not careful."
I ducked under the low lintel and entered. The air inside was thick with dust and the faint scent of incense—sweet, almost cloying, mixed with something metallic. Mana? Or just old metal.
Shelves lined the walls, crammed with oddities: cracked crystals pulsing with dim light, leather-bound books with runes that seemed to shift when I looked away, amulets dangling from hooks like forgotten jewelry. A glass case in the corner held vials of swirling liquids—potions, maybe. One glowed violet, catching my eye for a moment.
My gaze wandered further. On a dusty shelf near the back, an old, verstaubtes book caught my attention – its cover cracked and faded, titled *Forbidden Runes of the Abyss* in embossed letters that seemed to whisper of dark arts and corrupted magic. Next to it, a black amulet with a swirling rune that looked like a void, labeled "Warding Against Dark Energies." And a small vial labeled "Essence of Shadow" – probably black market stuff for forbidden spells.
The old man shuffled behind a counter cluttered with more items. His eyes, sharp despite his age, scanned me up and down. "New to Aetherhold, eh? Academy boy? You have that look—wide-eyed but wary."
I nodded, not offering more. "Something like that."
He chuckled, a dry rasp. "Well, what catches your fancy? Amulets for luck? Potions for strength? Or something... practical?"
My eyes wandered back to the small ring on the velvet cushion in the window display. Simple silver band, etched with faint runes that seemed to glow subtly in the dim light of the shop's mana-lantern.
"That ring," I said, pointing. "What's it for?"
The old man grinned, teeth yellowed but even. "Ah, sharp eye. That's a storage ring—old model, but reliable. Opens a small pocket dimension for your belongings. No more lugging bags around like a pack mule."
A storage ring.
The word "dimension" tugged at something in my mind—familiar, like a term from a story. But I shook it off.
"How much?"
He rubbed his chin. "For you? Thirty Silberkronen. It's got a few scratches, but the runes are still solid. Holds about a room's worth of stuff—no living things, mind you."
Thirty Silberkronen.
I winced inwardly. After the dagger, that would leave me lighter than I liked. But a pocket dimension? That sounded... useful. No more carrying everything on my back.
"I'll take it," I said, pulling out the coins.
My hand steady despite the reluctance. The old man pocketed them with a nod.
"Smart buy. To use it, just channel a bit of mana into the runes.. think of what you want to store or retrieve. It'll come natural once your core's awakened."
He handed me the ring. It was cool to the touch, heavier than it looked. I slipped it on my right index finger.. it fit perfectly, as if made for me.
My gaze drifted back to the dusty shelf. The book Forbidden Runes of the Abyss stared at me, its title pulling like the dagger had.
"And that book?" I asked, pointing.
The old man raised an eyebrow. "Interested in the dark stuff, eh? That's an old tome on abyss runes—corrupted magic, rifts, that sort of thing. Not for beginners. Ten Silberkronen."
Ten?Cheap for a book, i would say, but still... knowledge.
"I'll take that too," I said, handing over the coins.
He wrapped it in old cloth and passed it over. "Careful with this one. The words have a way of sticking."
I nodded, storing the book in the ring with a thought. It vanished smoothly.
As for the black amulet and the small vial... they tugged at me too. The amulet's void-like rune felt ominous, the vial's shadow essence dangerous. I'd come back for them later—if they were still here and not sold.
"Thanks," I said, turning to leave.
The old man called after me. "One more thing, lad. Rings like that choose their owners sometimes. If it feels right, it's yours for a reason."
I paused, but didn't reply. Just nodded and stepped back into the night.
Outside, the air felt colder. The mana-lanterns cast long shadows as I walked, testing the ring discreetly. I focused on the travel bag in my hand—imagined it vanishing.
A faint warmth spread from the ring, and the bag disappeared with a soft pop, like air escaping a bottle.
Gone.
I thought of it again, and it reappeared in my hand.
Useful.
Very useful.
The rest of the evening blurred. I found a cheap inn—"The Rusty Lantern"—in the commoners' quarter. Five Silberkronen for a night, basic room with a cot and a basin. No questions asked.
I stored the backpack and travel bag in the ring, lightening my load. The dagger stayed at my belt—felt safer that way.
As I lay on the cot, staring at the cracked ceiling, the day's events replayed in my mind.
Nobles. Mana. Academy.
The pieces were there, but the picture was fuzzy.
Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was dreamless.
For now.