Page 24 of Unseen Eye
“This is the market district,” Leigh explains. “It’s where you’ll find everything you could possibly need. Many of the items here are crafted by the best artisans in the kingdom.”
“Is it like this every day?” I ask Leigh, overwhelmed by the sensory overload.
“Of course,” she replies, walking up to a nearby stall full of flowers. “It’s always this vibrant.”
The differences between the two places couldn’t be more stark. Providence is a land carved out of necessity, a place where every decision is driven by survival. In contrast, Astermiri is a world where excess is everywhere. Everything here is grand, extravagant, almost to the point of decadence—lush gardens that seem to stretch on forever, towering structures draped in gold, and streets that sparkle with the kind of luxury that feels over the top. It’s a place where beauty, pleasure, and indulgence are woven into the fabric of daily life, a world built not just to live, but to live in the most magnificent way possible. It’s a style, a way of life that feels excessive and alien to me.
We pass by a bakery, and the tantalizing smell of warm pastries makes my stomach rumble louder than a thunderstorm. Leigh notices and grins. “Would you like to try something? The pastries here are world renowned.”
My stomach already making its opinion known. I nod eagerly. We step inside, and the cozy interior of the bakery welcomes us with wooden shelves lined with an array of pastries. Leigh selects a few of her favorites—a flaky croissant, a fruit tart, and something intriguingly named a honey cake. We find a small table by the window and settle in.
As we eat, Leigh points out various landmarks visible through the window. “Over there is the apothecary,” she says, gesturing to a charming building with herbs hanging in the window. Thesight sends a pang through my chest, reminding me of Kendry. “And just down that street is the blacksmith. You can find some of the finest weapons and armor there.”
We finish our pastries, which I could probably eat every day if given the chance, and continue our tour. Leigh leads me to a nearby plaza, where a group of acrobats performs a breathtaking routine. They soar through the air with effortless precision, their bodies twisting and turning in a dazzling display of skill. Each leap and tumble is met with collective gasps from the crowd, their eyes wide and mouths open in awe.
As we watch, a fire-breather steps into the spotlight, adding a daring flair. With each deep breath, he exhales a torrent of flames that leap and swirl in patterns, casting an orange glow that dances across the awestruck faces of the audience. I have to grip my chair to keep my jaw from dropping; how can anything this extraordinary be real?
“This is one of my favorite places,” Leigh confides. “There’s always something happening here—performances, festivals, you name it.”
I smile, feeling the joy and vibrancy of the place seep into my bones. “It’s incredible,” I admit. “Everything feels so alive.”
Leigh nods, her eyes sparkling. “Astermiri has a spirit all its own. It’s a place where you can truly experience the richness of life.”
Children dart around the edges of the plaza, imitating the acrobats’ high-flying flips and pretending to wield fire with boundless enthusiasm. Vendors weave through the crowd, their carts brimming with colorful scarves and handcrafted jewelry, adding vibrant splashes to the already lively atmosphere.
Suddenly, one of the acrobats stumbles mid-flip, landing with a sickening twist; a gasp ripples through the crowd as he crumples to the ground, clutching his ankle, bent at an unnatural angle. Without hesitation, Leigh rushes forward,pushing through the gathered spectators. She kneels beside the injured man, her expression one of intense concentration.
“Hold still,” she murmurs, placing her hands gently on his injured ankle. As she begins to focus, her irises start to glow with a soft, aethereal light. What. The. Actual. Fuck? I blink several times, convinced I must be hallucinating.
The glow intensifies, and a faint warmth spreads from her hands to the injured ankle. Leigh’s eyes grow brighter, and the acrobat’s face, initially contorted in pain, gradually relaxes as the healing power takes effect. Within moments, he tentatively moves his ankle, a look of astonishment and relief crossing his face.
“Leigh,” I mutter, still in awe. “That was incredible.”
Slowly, her eyes fade back to their natural forest green. She stands up, brushing off her hands, and glances at me with a reassuring smile. “It’s just a part of who I am,” she says like it is no big deal.
As we walk away from the performance, my curiosity bubbles over. “How did you do that? And what was with your eyes?”
Leigh chuckles, her laughter warm and genuine. “When we use magic, our irises glow. It’s a reaction from the aether itself—the source of our magic. It’s like a conduit, channeling the energy we need to perform spells or heal, in this case.”
“Aether?” I repeat, the word feeling foreign on my tongue.
“Yes,” she says and nods, her expression thoughtful. “The glow you saw in my eyes is a visible manifestation of that connection. It happens to everyone who uses their power, though the intensity and color can vary. Lesser magic, like opening doors or turning on lights, barely uses any magic, so it’s unnoticeable.”
I ponder this new information, fascinated. “So, it’s not just healing?”
Leigh shakes her head. “No, there are many different types of magic—healing, elemental manipulation, enchantments, andlesser magic. Each person has their own unique affinity, something they’re naturally better at. My affinity is healing, but others can control air and nature. The possibilities are endless.”
Still smiling, Leigh grabs my hand. “There’s so much more to see. Come on, let’s keep exploring.”
We wander further, leaving behind the lively market district for streets that stretch wide and open. The buildings here rise with an imposing stature, their stone facades marked by grand arches and elaborate carvings that speak of authority. Leigh points out the town hall, a formidable structure with tall columns that seem to reach for the heavens. The sheer scale and grandeur of the building make it clear that this is a place of great importance. “This is where the council meets,” she explains. “My father also comes here from time to time to meet with the villagers.”
Leigh leads me to one final stop—the library. Even from the outside, it towers majestically over the town hall, its gleaming spires and endless halls stretching seamlessly into the adjoining palace. As we step through its grand doors, the world falls silent, as though we’ve crossed a threshold into something sacred.
It’s even more mesmerizing than I imagined.
Hundreds of lanterns drift overhead, their warm, flickering light spilling across the polished floor like liquid gold. One dips low, hovering close as if to inspect me, its glow pulsing faintly in what feels like a silent greeting. A scroll flutters past my face, opening midair just long enough to flash shimmering runes before zipping toward a distant shelf. In the distance, I catch sight of a book hovering, its pages flipping rapidly, as though impatiently searching for something.
“I thought you might appreciate this,” Leigh says with a knowing smile.
