"Looking for sothing custom?" they asked.
"Yes," Nathan said without hesitation. "Sothing charming."
The attendant smiled with practiced ease.
Elara glanced at the price tags and did not smile.
"Let's not go bankrupt on the first floor," she said.
"You only live once," Nathan muttered. He held up a coat and raised both eyebrows. It had pointed cuffs, folded high collar, and silver thread laced through in constellations.
rlin stayed near the entrance. His eyes skimd the walls without focusing on any one item.
'Too much noise. Everything here is a conversation waiting to start. None of it is ant to last.'
Elara picked up a jacket lined with reversible scales. She ran her thumb across one panel. It shifted from forest green to a wine red, then back again.
"This would survive your firework habit," she said to Nathan without looking up.
"I don't have a firework habit."
"You do if it has a fuse and I have to yell at you to drop it."
Nathan grinned and took the jacket from her.
The attendant offered to fit them both. Elara waved it off. Nathan accepted.
rlin left them to it and stepped out again. The next store over was quieter. No music. Just wide floor space and one apprentice tailor threading a rune along the sleeve of a long coat.
He walked through the open doorway, trailing fingers along the racks. The fabric here was simpler. Earth tones.
Fewer enchantnts. Mostly utility wear for long walks or low-threat missions. Still expensive. Still stitched for posture and presence. But less performative.
He found a heavy brown cloak at the far end. Unchard. Double clasped. No insignia. Just thick wool and clean lines.
He set it back without trying it on.
'It fits. That's the problem. It fits too easily. Too quiet. It's basically like iding from sothing I haven't even t yet.'
A voice behind him.
"Looking for travel wear?"
The tailor had appeared without sound. Young. Not nervous. Just tired in a way that settled behind the eyes.
"Not really," rlin said.
The tailor nodded like that was a good enough answer.
rlin stepped out again.
A few minutes later, Elara caught up. She had changed jackets. The new one fit her tighter at the arms and moved better at the shoulders.
"You didn't buy anything," she said.
He shook his head.
Nathan jogged up behind them, spinning once to let the coat tails flare.
"I look incredible," he said.
Elara examined him for a beat too long.
"You look slightly less ridiculous than usual."
"Thank you. That ans more than you think."
They continued through the clothing lane, ducking in and out of stores. One focused entirely on enchanted boots.
Another had cloaks that could fold into a coin-sized charm. One had no attendants at all, just illusion mirrors that spoke when garnts were held up.
rlin tried on a coat in that one. Just once. No enchantnts. Deep pockets.
He didn't buy it.
'Good fit. Good weight. I don't need it. But I rembered the shape when I left.'
At a shop called Goldbone, Nathan made Elara try on sothing with tal threading at the seams. It sparked lightly at the cuffs when she moved.
"Not a chance," she said. But she didn't take it off right away.
They stayed there a while.
The clerk offered them sothing called a signature blend. It was a scent layer woven into the collar. Personalized to match wearer aura.
Nathan declined. Elara said she didn't want to sll like anything nad after a gemstone.
rlin said nothing.
They moved on.
They found the weapon shop by accident.
Past the designer boots and rotating mannequins, a narrow stairwell wound downward beside an atrium with hanging lights. The sign above was plain. Carved wood. Painted once, then scuffed by ti and weather.
Ash and Alloy.
Nathan spotted it first.
"Now we're talking," he said.
Elara tilted her head. "Not on your allowance."
"I am window shopping," Nathan replied. "I am exploring the cultural heritage of bladed comrce."
She snorted once, but followed him down the steps. rlin ca last.
The staircase was steep. No enchantnts. No music. The kind of stair that creaked wrong if you rushed. A small bell rang when the door opened. Not a charm. A real bell, strung from the top hinge with frayed ribbon.
Inside, the temperature shifted. Cooler. Cleaner.
Every surface was matte wood or soft cloth. No tal glint. No careless reflection. Every weapon sat nested in its own groove or case. Blades, staffs, bracers.
A few rifles behind glass. Most items rested on long black cushions, gently tilted toward the viewer.
One wall was reserved for forged Herald-class weapons. Not functional. Replicas. But close enough to wake mories if you had seen the real ones.
Nathan walked the length of the aisle, hands clasped behind his back like he was trying to pass for a noble son. He stopped beside a short saber with curved runes set along the flat of the blade.
"That one looks like yours," he said without turning.
"It's not," rlin replied.
"I said looks like."
rlin stepped closer to the case. The saber was silver-white. Thin. Designed for speed. Its balance looked off to him. Too front-weighted. The handle had been rewrapped twice.
One layer was synthetic. The other looked like salvaged leather from sothing older.
'It's a showpiece. A guess. Built by soone who's never drawn a weapon under pressure.'
Elara was crouched near a different case. Her eyes followed the curve of a thick hunting blade, spine lined with sharpened hooks.
"I hate these," she said.
"Ugly?" Nathan asked.
"Cruel."
She stood and moved on.
The clerk approached quietly. He wore a charcoal apron over plain robes. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, arms inked with forge patterns. Not decorative. Tally marks. Heat scores. One burn scar across the forearm.
He looked first at rlin.
"You carry weight," he said.
"I'm not buying."
"Still. You might like the third case down. Left side."
rlin hesitated, then followed the direction.
The case was smaller than the others. No glass. Just a raised bed of black cloth. One blade. No sheath. Half-wrapped grip. Shorter than his current weapon. Straight. Functional.
It was not enchanted.
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