The underground market had revealed far more than they expected. Lyra, Jhaeros, and Nara had descended into its depths out of curiosity, but what they found was a tangled web of secretive dealings and morally questionable trades. This was no ordinary market; it was a hub for forbidden magic, rare creatures, and materials that were not only dangerous but, in some cases, illegal to handle without specialized expertise.
The trio walked silently, taking in the dimly lit, chaotic sprawl. Stalls filled the narrow corridors, each manned by merchants whose faces were obscured by hoods or masks. Strange objects gleamed under the dim light—crystals that hummed with suppressed power, vials of iridescent liquid, and cages rattling with restless, magical creatures.
Jhaeros' sharp eyes caught movement at one stall, and his steps faltered. There, behind a makeshift counter, a merchant gestured animatedly at a potential buyer. His wares were not goods, but creatures—caged and clearly distressed. Among them, Jhaeros spotted something that made his breath catch.
It was a small, wiry creature with fur that shimmered like leaves caught in the sunlight, its green eyes glowing faintly as it pressed itself against the bars of its cage.
"That's a Verdant Prowler," Jhaeros muttered, his voice tight.
"A what?" Lyra asked, peering at the cage.
"They're sacred in my tribe's lands," Jhaeros explained, his tone low and tense. "They're guardians of our forests, and this one's just a pup."
The merchant noticed Jhaeros' interest and smiled slyly. "Ah, you've got a good eye, Ilvaar. Rare creature, isn't it? Worth a fortune to the right buyer."
Jhaeros' hands clenched into fists as he stepped closer. "It's not for sale. Release it."
The merchant's smile faltered for a moment but quickly returned. "Not for sale? Everything's for sale here, my friend. Unless, of course, you're willing to pay a premium for its freedom."
That was the final straw. In one fluid motion, Jhaeros lunged forward, grabbing the merchant by the collar and pulling him close. His claws extended, their sharp edges gleaming under the flickering light.
"This creature isn't a commodity," Jhaeros growled, his voice dangerously low. "Do you have any idea what you've done by taking it from its home?"
The merchant sputtered, his bravado quickly evaporating. "Easy now, friend," he stammered. "There's no need for violence."
"Jhaeros!" Lyra said sharply, stepping forward. "Let him go!"
Jhaeros didn't respond, his golden eyes locked onto the merchant's face. The Verdant Prowler let out a weak, pitiful cry, and his grip tightened.
"Jhaeros," Lyra said again, more urgently. "We're not going to help that creature by starting a fight here."
Nara stepped in as well, placing a firm hand on Jhaeros' shoulder. "She's right. As much as I'd love to see you rip his face off, we can't take on the entire market. Let's be smart about this."
For a moment, it seemed as though Jhaeros might ignore them. His breathing was heavy, his claws trembling with barely contained rage. But then, with a growl of frustration, he released the merchant, who stumbled back, clutching his throat and glaring at them.
"You'll regret that," the merchant spat, his voice shaking. "No one threatens me and walks away unscathed."
The tension hung thick in the air as they made their way back to the surface. The oppressive atmosphere of the underground market gave way to the cool night air, but none of them felt any relief.
Nara broke the silence first. "Well, that was fun. Let's never do that again."
Lyra shot her a look. "Fun? Are you serious? We just narrowly avoided starting a fight with an entire network of shady dealers."
"Exactly," Nara said with a grin. "And we made it out alive. That's a win in my book."
Jhaeros, still simmering with anger, didn't respond. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the sight of the caged Verdant Prowler over and over.
Lyra glanced at him, her expression softening. "Are you okay?"
"No," Jhaeros said bluntly, his voice quiet but firm. "That creature… it shouldn't have been there. It's not just about my tribe. Creatures like that are connected to the land. They protect it. Without them…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening.
Lyra hesitated, then placed a hand on his arm. "We'll find a way to help, Jhaeros. But we can't do it recklessly. You know that."
He nodded reluctantly. "I know."
As they walked through the quieter streets of the city, something caught Lyra's attention. A figure in a dark cloak emerged from an alleyway up ahead, moving quickly and clutching a burlap sack over their shoulder.
Lyra squinted, her eyes narrowing. "Is that… Kalem?"
Jhaeros and Nara followed her gaze. The figure turned slightly, and for a brief moment, they caught a glimpse of his face beneath the hood. It did look like Kalem—or at least, someone who could easily pass for him.
Before they could call out, the figure froze, as if sensing their attention. Then, without warning, he bolted, disappearing into another alley.
"What the hell?" Nara said, already moving to chase after him.
"Wait!" Lyra called, running after her. "What is he doing here?"
Jhaeros followed, his sharp reflexes keeping him close behind. The trio weaved through the narrow streets, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls. The cloaked figure was fast, darting around corners with practiced ease, but they were determined not to lose him.
The chase led them to a small, dimly lit plaza. The figure was gone, leaving nothing but silence and shadows.
Nara, panting slightly, scanned the area with a scowl. "I swear, if that was him, he's getting an earful."
Lyra frowned, her mind racing. "Why would Kalem be here? And what was in that sack?"
Jhaeros crouched near the edge of the plaza, his sharp eyes scanning the ground. "Tracks," he muttered. "He was here, but he's gone now."
Lyra crossed her arms, worry evident in her expression. "This doesn't make sense. Kalem's not the type to sneak around like this."
"Unless he's hiding something," Nara said bluntly.
Jhaeros stood, brushing off his hands. "We'll ask him directly. If he's involved in this underground mess, we need to know."
Lyra nodded, though unease churned in her stomach. Kalem had always been straightforward, meticulous, and honest. But now, questions loomed large: What was he doing in the underground market? And why did he run when he saw them?