Marrok rested his head on the oak table. The candles beside him sputtered. Even behind the thick oak door, he could hear Rumple and Calith shouting at each other. With an annoyed sigh, Marrok ran a finger along Ella’s soft pink ribbon. It was a plain strip of cloth. It even frayed around the edges and yet he felt a strong desire to keep it close. With a sigh, he tied in to the inside of his shirt.
Marrok’s eyes wandered around the shop before stopping at the book shelves that were inlaid into the furthest stone walls. Taking the candle, he held it up to the titles of the leather bound volumes. Faded gold engravings barely stood out against the polished leather. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer, trying to read a few. Many of them bore symbols he couldn’t recognize so he picked the one that seemed the least aged.
Pushing the trinkets aside on the nearby table, he flopped the book down. The pages were creased and worn around the edges but the text was sharp and clear. His fingers traced around the circular symbols and they reminded him of the patterned etchings in the lamp Ella had given them several days before. The symbols weaved into each other endlessly and Marrok moved in closer almost believing that he would be able to read it if he stared at it for long enough.
Marrok stopped as he looked at the image of a lantern. It had to be the same one. Distracted from the book by the thoughts of the lantern, Marrok took his uncle’s bag and rifled through it. His hand brushed along the cool metal and glass before pulling it out. He blinked, unsure if it was the same lantern from before. Instead of the black glass and gold runes the metal framework was pure silver. The glass was clear as water and the now silver runes glowed, lighting up the dim room until it felt like shone like the sun on a harvesting day. Shaking his head, he stuck his hand back inside the bag to try and find the black lantern but his hand found nothing but clothing and old bread crumbs.
Marrok turned the lantern over in his hands. It responded to his touch. The glow burned, forcing him to look away. He watched as the light spread as if it were a living being driving out the shadows.
“Having fun?”
Marrok jumped at the voice. The lantern slipped from his hands. It fell onto the stone floor with a soft thunk. He cringed at the sound, scooping it up to survey the damage. There was none. No cracks or dents or scrapes. The light dimmed to a jovial glow as Rose approached.
“Do you approve? Father wanted to send the gold sword as a gift but I thought it would attract too much unwanted attention.”
“It’s,” Marrok trailed off, looking for the right word, “interesting.”
Rose took it from him, running her fingers along the symbols. “Would you like to know what it says?” she gestured to the opened page.
Marrok nodded, “Please.”
“It turns black when your enemies are nearby.” She sat down and tugged him over to sit beside her, “It helps to hide you. Silver means you’re safe.” She pointed to a specific line in the book, though it could’ve said anything, “The lantern will help shield you from unwanted eyes,” she laughed, “supposedly, anyways.”
Enemies. The woman in the red cloak with golden hair. A woman he had never known or harmed. Crimson Order. The two words rang in his head like the bell toll summoning the dead. How far would he have to run before he was free of them?
“Is everything here like this?” Marrok asked. A man made of wood, a sword that could slice through stone and now a magic lamp. “I mean, what is it that you do up here?”
“My father’s training me to take his place as an alchemist. The things that you see here,” Rose said, gesturing around to the numerous shelves and tables. “are just part of his private collection.”
Marrok blinked. “You make gold?” Traveling entertainers would often pass through his village, claiming to have magical abilities but their secrets were always mere tricks in the end.
“My father does,” Rose looked away, seeming bothered by the question, “but not very often.”
“Then why stay up here?” His thoughts began to drift back to the life of luxury he had once envisioned for himself. With women. Lots of women. His attention was called back when her slender fingers ran along a gold chain around her neck. A red stone dangled at the end. The light of the lantern didn’t reflect like it would with a ruby. If anything, the rock seemed to be dimming everything else around it as though taking in the light itself. Marrok wet his lips as he moved closer to the stone. A strong desire to take it boiled up within him.
“We like our privacy.” Rose said. She stared at him before tucking the strange necklace down her shirt and shifting away. “Don’t you?”
“Not really.” Marrok grinned. The desire broke as suddenly as it had come, “If I had an endless fortune, I’d be far, far away from here.”
She rolled her eyes and glanced back to the other room where the two were still arguing like old widows who each declared their grandchild to be the best. Marrok couldn’t make out the words but the frustrated tone set his teeth on edge.
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