Within an open stretch of land inside the Territory of Flame, voices overlapped together to form a low but persistent hum. Like a murmur of a distant creek - an intonation, brimming with energy. Only, those who cast it were not mages but hawk-eyed merchants instead.
Their avaricious eyes gleamed, appraising the busy throng. Light snow fell in the background, a thin fog covering the market, the result of countless exhalations.
The traders called out and haggled, hoping to entice whoever entered the trading grounds to a satisfactory trade. They were a skilled and ruthless bunch, the frenzied intensity of their efforts reminding Alden of a pack of rabid beasts, intimidating anyone who did not wish to struggle or vie with them in vain.
He saw merchants openly manipulating their customers, charging prices that were almost obscene, and as volatile as quickly shifting sand. Their words, phrases and demeanour differed with each interaction, as fickle as one who only sought more coin.
But it was an art form in and of itself, requiring a lot of finesse.
'…Would have been more impressive if they weren't so shameless.'
In this den of thieves, Alden felt like he was utterly out of place. Yes, he was cunning, and yes there were occasions where he could be a little dishonest, but that was only to get out of troublesome situations he did not want to be in.
These merchants, however, openly swindled, uncaring for how their actions seemed, or how it affected their customers afterwards - the destitute mundane really struggled against these traders.
They could only accept the outrageous price, now one step closer towards financial ruin.
Of course, not every trader was so under-handed. Some dealt honestly, charging a fixed sum, regardless of the buyer's age, gender or status. However, as a whole, it seemed the invasion against the Sanctuary had made these merchants more determined, reminding them their existences were not set in stone.
It was better to amass as much wealth as possible before they inevitably passed, or so it seemed.
Alden sighed. His paranoia spiked like crazy, on overdrive, his body constantly on edge. The raucous cacophony of the bustling market did not help either, overwhelming him with the hum of countless voices fusing together to form a loud litany.
Usually, Alden ignored these merchants, finding them to be incredibly obnoxious.
Unfortunately, today he couldn't.
Because he couldn't avoid the marketplace - he had nowhere else to sell his cores.
Sure, there were stores in the Sanctuary more than happy to purchase his purified cores, but they would charge a broker fee to cover their costs, which Alden felt was a very unnecessary expense. He could also use his father's connections to find someone who would be willing to trade, but again Alden did not want to rely on others too much.
He wanted to work hard, and let the fruits of his labour pay off naturally.
He was quite stubborn, that way.
So, the only other option was to set up a stall in the marketplace, and try to fight off the intense competition there.
Granted, he had a little advantage.
The fact that she had purified these cores would be a big boon, allowing him to sell already cleansed cores, instead of the impure and corrupted others usually sold. For them, the return on investment from purging and selling was not worth it, at least that's what Alden assumed.
Either way, he was a special case.
The advantage given to him by Ignia would be a major component in his strategy to stand out against competitors, and one in which he would be relying heavily upon as a means of attracting customers.
Well, that, and another thing.
In any case, here under the tarp, the section where mystical and more valuable items were traded, things weren't so bad. There was no obvious scamming - no one was foolish enough to con a fellow warrior - and the presence of a few Ember Clan members ensured that people would need to think twice before starting any conflict.
Alden was situated at the very edge, away from where the most valuable items were traded, and away from where the most reputable of mystical merchants stood. Of course, the items they sold weren't too valuable, such that they would make an Expert or even Master drool. Stuff like that could only be found in Guild Treasuries, coffers of prominent organisations, and dimensional bracelets of powerhouses able to hold their own.
Still, they were precious enough that one or two would doubtless be tempted.
Alden was fine with his position at the edge. Where he currently stood, he had a good view of what was happening in his section, and the mundane trading area as well, so he would not be caught unaware if an individual suddenly decided to lay their grubby hands on his merchandise without permission.
That was Alden's greatest worry. In the chaos, it wasn't hard to miss a flick of a wrist, or a subtle movement, barely noticeable within this sea of human activity, so he had to remain sharp.
Inhaling a frigid breath, Alden focused.
He tried to signal people towards his stall, but a large majority of the foot traffic were not interested. At most, they would send a cursory glance his way and then raise a skeptical eyebrow, wondering what in the Asterons he must have consumed to be willing to give away purified cores .
Alden even had a sign on display, showcasing that in big, bold letters.
A few rare customers were attracted by his offer and stopped at the stall, only to leave shortly after, noticing the lack of variation among his cores. They were mostly remains of Ice Wyrms, a rare Snow Tiger or two, and a Snow Wolf.
Alden was surprised to find that not many had pined for the cores of the Dark Brood. Sure, there was some interest, but after clarifying what Rank the abomination had been in before death, quite a few were unwilling to take the risk. Perhaps they wanted a core of a higher rank.
Or perhaps they were simply suspicious. Alden would be distrustful too, if he was in their shoes.
Just when he feared the day would end in failure, a youth, perhaps a year or two his juniour caught his eye. Dressed elegantly in a fur coat and snow-white gloves, the boy's dark, almost glossy hair, and brilliant amethyst eyes shone subtly, glimmering like jewels as they caught the light.
The young boy had the fairest looking skin Alden had ever seen, as if it was incapable of being blemished.
But that was not what caught Alden's attention the most.
Instead, it was a tiny, almost imperceptible detail - the handsome youth furtively glancing over his shoulder.
Was he being followed?
Seeing his chance, Alden motioned towards the striking youth, tilting his chin ever so slightly towards his sign. The dark-haired youth blinked, before understanding gradually dawned on his features.
His amethyst gaze flashed.