Page 12 of Sanctuary and Spices

Jani moved to the edge, her gaze fixed on the layers of the station sliding past. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Her wonder caught me off guard. I found myself watching her instead of the view. “The Veil’s unique. Built into an ancient structure. The founders worked with what they found instead of fighting it.”

“Is that why everything feels so...” She gestured vaguely, her fingers brushing the Flo-Lift’s railing. “Alive?”

“The station runs on Leyline energy. Everything’s connected.” I wasn’t looking at her. Definitely not noticing how the soft glow of the lift highlighted her features.

The Bazaar hummed with activity even at this early hour. Merchants called out in a mix of languages, arranging wares beneath the soft rainbow light cast by crystalline arches. A Pel’ax vendor carefully placed living goods on display, while a Krythari juggled glowing fruit for a growing crowd.

“Stay close,” I said, more aware of her proximity than I wanted to admit. “The market can be... overwhelming.”

She fell into step beside me, her attention shifting between stalls and people. At Mai’s spice stand, the Krythari merchant greeted us with all four arms in motion, sorting jars and preparing bags.

“Ronhar!” Mai’s faceted eyes glimmered. “And the café’s new chef?”

“Word travels fast,” Jani replied, her confidence growing with each interaction. She studied the display of spices with interest. “This is incredible.”

“How are you finding the Veil?” Mai asked, handing over our usual order.

“Different. But good different.” Jani’s hands moved as she spoke, describing flavor combinations with an animation that drew Mai’s full attention.

I should’ve been checking the rest of our suppliers, but I found myself lingering. The way she engaged with Mai—her curiosity, her ease—was... distracting.

Mai laughed, her mandibles clicking. “Come back anytime. Always good to talk spices with someone who knows their craft.”

As we moved on, Jani’s presence shifted the energy of every stop. Vendors lit up at her questions, their enthusiasm matching hers. Even the living goods at the herb stalls seemed to turn toward her, their stems bending slightly as if in greeting.

“Interesting,” our Pel’ax herb supplier murmured as his plants reacted. “Very interesting.”

“Just the usual order,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Plus extra nutrients for the Jhyra,” Jani added. “They’ve been growing faster than expected.”

The Pel’ax’s antlers quivered. “Are they now? Fascinating.”

Before he could elaborate, a glint of metallic skin caught my eye. I turned sharply, instincts flaring.

Lyrian.

The Aurenai mercenary moved through the crowd with the liquid grace of his kind. His golden-bronze skin reflected the Bazaar’s light as our eyes met across the distance. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

I shifted closer to Jani, my hand brushing her arm as if by accident. “Stay close.”

She didn’t pull away, her gaze following mine to Lyrian. “Who is that?”

“An old acquaintance.” My tone was flat, but my tension must have been obvious.

Lyrian’s voice carried above the noise, smooth and edged with amusement. “What an interesting morning this has become.”

JANI

Ronhar shifted closer to me, one foot sliding subtly to center his weight, ready to move. His green markings glowed against his skin, strobing in a pattern I already recognized as agitation. His presence, steady and calm, felt like a shield against the market’s noise.

“Lyrian. The Solace Pact’s right hand himself graces us with his presence.” Ronhar’s tone was dry but not hostile, his stance relaxed but alert—the practiced ease of someone who always knows where they stand.

“Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

The stranger’s voice was smooth, almost melodic, as he stepped into view. His golden-bronze skin shimmered in the market’s light, catching and refracting it like liquid mercury—dazzling, yet intimidating. Glowing golden eyes locked onto Ronhar with a piercing, predatory intensity.

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