The transition was always jarring. The weight of the domain fell away, the impossible sky vanished, and Astra's eyes opened. Awareness flooded in, color, sound, scent. His pupils contracted, focusing on the here and now.
Intelligence returned to his gaze. And with it, purpose.He had a side quest to undertake and coin did not gather itself.
He gazed around and saw the guards finally move, as he called upon the shadows around him, this was basic boosting, a rank one way to use the shadows called [shadows embrace] it made him decently faster and more hidden when he was in the shadows.
The violet twilight aurora made by the Tower of Dusk shimmered in the sky, the shadows danced from corner to corner, bright fireworks larger than the ones before continued to light up the sky and music hummed in the air, this made the bazaar which was littered with deep shadows his perfect hunting grounds.
Astra strolled through the gates leisurely and confidently as the shifting guards were busy and were not in some alert state.
He had finally entered the inner bazaar, normally nobles or rich individuals would show off their mage coins to enter in passing but this was hardly enforced.
Astra looked around for a second, He had only been here twice before.
At the heart of the bazaar, he saw towering banners of gold and crimson catch the fading light, their embroidered sigils shifting ever so slightly as though alive. The air is thick with the scent of exotic spices, enchanted incense, and mana. Sounds of soft laughter and lively conversation mingle with the chime of bells and the low hum of mana that pulses through the ground like a heartbeat.
There plenty of powerful Noblemen and women, draped in flowing robes of silk and velvet, strolling leisurely through the maze of stalls, their jewels glinting like stars, dressed in their festive Noble attires, some haggled with powerful sorcerers and adventurers, enchanted beasts, and magical artisans.
Their faces, though regal, are a mix of curiosity and wealth-fueled indulgence. They spoke clearly and tones that demanded respect, exchanging secrets of hidden relics and untold riches, their words barely louder than the rustle of cloth and the gentle clink of coins.
"Steady" Astra reminded himself, the last thing he needed was to stand out too much by not trying to stand out, getting arrested and beat would really ruin his year.
"It's really like a different world" he sighed as he saw the pure wealth accumulated here.
Stalls were overflowing with treasure, items beyond imagination. One merchant, a gnarled elf with eyes like liquid silver, offers crystalline vials that shimmer with strange, swirling mists, each containing a whisper of forgotten knowledge or a memory trapped in time.
Another vendor, a hulking half-orc clad in armor etched with runes, displays swords that hum with an ancient power—blades that seem to absorb the ambient light, their edges impossibly sharp. The swords pulse with a quiet menace, their hilts adorned with the bones of long-dead creatures and glinting with gemstones that glow faintly in the twilight. these items gave off the strong aura of rank two, some even coming very close to rank three. this showed just how powerful dusk full truly is, to have its bazaar littered with rank two artifacts.
Nearby, a curious vendor sells enchanted beasts, miniature rank two lower wyverns that coil around their owners' wrists like living bracelets, rank two and one feathered peacocks that stretch their wings as if remembering an ancient sky, and a rare rank three panther-like creatures with shifting fur that blends into their surroundings like shadows. The creatures seem both tame and wild, and their eyes flicker with an intelligence that unsettles some and delights others. contained by specialist rank two beast tamers and trapped in powerful mana cages.
"What if I just set them free here? would they run away or simply slaughter anyone weaker?" he lampooned
A pair of wizened, hooded figures sit beneath a golden canopy, their hands moving in intricate gestures as they weave illusions from nothing, crafting living scenes out of light and shadow—fey gardens, swirling storms, landscapes of distant lands. Their wares are not objects but experiences, memories, and dreams spun into tangible forms. many gathered to converse and share experiences, these figures gave off faint rank two auras, however their quality was that of the pinnacle of rank two, famed adventurers.
Astra steered clear of them.
Above the din, the faint sound of a haunting melody drifts through the air—a lone bard perched atop a stone balcony, playing a harp woven from ancient wood. The music lures passersby, offering them an escape from the market's endless bustle, wrapping them in a moment of quiet magic. Hoping to get some coin.
Astra was excited to see such a area, he had barely any access to such exclusive upper class centers and seeing the new marvels brought from all of the realms for the festival was really entertaining, yet he felt something off. It was really subtle. Almost as if its not all is as it seems. He had heard rumors the rumors.
Hidden in the deeper corners of the bazaar, shadowed by towering stalls, one can find darker things—enchanted items that carry a price greater than mere legacy coin, ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge, and cursed relics that whisper promises of untold power. Beneath the layers of opulence, there is a sense of danger, a knowledge that in such a place, even the nobility might not be what they seem. or so the rumors say, Astra however felt the subtle aura of malice and dark humor in the air, there was without a doubt darkness here.
Its natural for one to see some jesters here and there after all, it wasn't illegal to be one per say but it was definitely frowned upon and they were ridiculed, but alas what's mere rank ones and twos going to do to a full on rank three, most Jesters were adventures and mercenaries of dark organizations and groups. They hid themselves and desires when in city centers to not attract unnecessary attention.
He sighed hoping not to find himself under some powerful jesters gaze.
The sky above deepens as the twilight had become even more powerful for some reason.
Astra even felt a subtle premonition. Something was to happen this night.
He shrugged it off. "I need to relax" Astra laughed. His paranoia had been getting worse.
The bazaar took on an even more ethereal glow now, as the magic in the air intensified. It was truly a place of wonder, wealth, and power, where bargains are struck between those with real power.
Astra was still glued to the shadows as he was without a doubt one of the weakest beings in the bazaar, he was a mere rank one with zero real training and no titles to claim. Meanwhile the average rank here was two and three and they all were wealthy.
He couldn't help but sigh
Astra reached a darker less populated part of the bazaar and hid from shadow-to-shadow, he went behind empty stalls and into empty houses looking through chests, most the people who inhabited such a place were out enjoying the festivities and he wasn't dumb enough to try pickpocketing literal rank twos,
"Not bad" he muttered as he counted five major legacy coins, they had the emblem of dusk and were grayish black he also managed to snag some valuable low rank mana stones.
Standards were the form of currency in the realms as metals such as gold and silver were abundant in fact some mages even wielded them, Standards carried a special mint from the ruling house of the land thus giving it value and at the highest standards could replenish ones mana and in the right hands they can even be used as catalysis in crafting rare items. The coins came in five forms or standards as they were called, the lowest standard being the copper standard, silver standard, gold standard, diamond standard and finally magic standard, the copper and silver were being classified as minor where the gold diamond and magic standards being classified as major coins, for simple transactions such as food and simple clothing minor coins were mostly used and for large transactions such as armor housing and other large and expensive items the major coins were used.
1 Magic standard which was the highest standard a coin could reach was worth 100 diamond standards, 1 diamond was worth 100 gold and 1 gold was worth 100 silver, 1 silver was worth 100 coppers.
From what Astra knew of the current wealth to standard ratio.
A Magic Standard was the type of Standard Governments, Houses, Churches, Divinity dealt with, possessing such wealth as a mortal was not only dangerous it was wasteful. A magic standard could buy an army.
A diamond standard could buy an estate in today's market, a thousand could perhaps buy a castle.
A 100 gold standards could buy a small middle class house.
A loaf of bread was worth 5 coppers, meat 10, wine and alcohols depended but ranged around 3-5 for coppers, average housing rent was 3-5 silvers in the worst areas, low quality armor of rank one was worth 50 silvers, a low quality sword of rank was around 25 silvers, anything rank two was in golds value. Astra himself had a sword but it broke long ago leaving him to knives and daggers which all were the lowest and cheapest possible quality.
Astra had five silver standard coins, 15 coppers and five golds which he had just stoked. Before tonight he was broke to the point where he couldn't afford to buy food.
Gods I'm so broke he laughed. Five gold coins will last him for a nice while however but he will spend them on materials to help further himself in power.
as his eyes eventually found a fat and old drunken noble who was on the verge of blacking out, the noble was quite literally in a dark corner sitting away from the festivities, Astra looked around and lowered himself as he simply took a bag of coins, from the unsuspecting Noble who was drunk out of his mind. the Noble gave off rank two aura, but he could not even function properly, if Astra really wanted to he could easily kill him and no one would even know.
"How is he a noble" Astra sighed as he shook his head slightly amused.
Perhaps he had a guard, astra looked around again now far away from the blacked out noblemen.
The old fat guy seemed to have one guard, and that said guard was busy flirting with an elvish servant.
Astra had to say that servant was extremely pretty even for elven standards. She looks uncomfortable, gods I really feel for her, He would know how annoying it is to gave someone in power try and take advantage of you. Astra secretly prayed to the gods that she ends up fine as he knew exactly how it felt to be pressured by those in power, as a certain Noble woman came up to mind again. he couldn't help but shudder.
Hmm house palm tree, a minor house in Shadows domain, they once were a medium tier house but they had fell from what Astra remembered, it was kind of sad to see.
Astra lowered his gaze as he walked away from the scene and hid in the shadows behind a building, He was elated at the 5 gold standards! The most he's had was one at 50 silvers ! And that was a result of him swindling an old Noble lady who wanted to use his body! He shivered at the thought. "I really don't wanna remember why do I keep remembering ugh..."
Nothing good comes from greed he repeated, this was a value instilled to him through countless harsh failures and lessons, he planned on leaving instantly.
He had made up his mind to leave the Bazaar. Astra had made his score, clean, simple, profitable. his stomach grumbled with the thought of food. The stalls behind him hummed with the fading chatter of merchants and revelers, the air still thick with incense and smoke. He slipped along the darker edges of the street, his instinct guiding him as much as habit.
A glint caught his eye.
A crate of fireworks stacked beside barrels of blasting powder, likely prepared for the festivities later that night. He allowed himself a small smirk. Duskfall loved its noise.
He looked up. The sky was a deep violet, streaked with silver clouds and bursts of crimson light. Fireworks flared above the city's spires and skyscrapers, their flashes mirrored faintly in the glassy rooftops. The erratic rhythm of the explosions filled the air—some distant, some near—and for a fleeting moment, Astra felt... wistful. The chaos almost looked beautiful from below.
Then—something shifted.
A chill crawled across his spine. The air thickened, heavy and sour. Astra froze, every nerve tightening as an unseen weight pressed against him. It wasn't just a gaze—it was presence. Something vast and ancient was looking back.
The hairs on his neck rose. His body began to tremble uncontrollably.
That feeling... what is this?
It wasn't simple killing intent. It was deeper—older. A scrutiny that smelled of rot and growth, decay and renewal, like something primal had turned its attention toward him.
"What the hell…" he whispered, his throat dry.
He knew instinctively he had a heartbeat—maybe less—before he was found, consumed, or worse.
His instincts screamed.
Mana surged through him in a reflexive storm. Shadows poured from his fingertips, flooding the narrow alley, forming a rotating dome of darkness around him. A crude defense, barely stable, but it cloaked him from most mortal eyes.
And yet—he felt that gaze still cutting through, dissecting him.
Panic sharpened his focus. He turned toward the fireworks crate and ignited a weak flame with a flick of his wrist. Sparks leapt. Paper hissed. Then—fire bloomed.
He clenched his jaw and drew upon what little mana he had left, calling water into form. It roared out of the air around him, shaping into a rough, spiraling tower that rose beside the fireworks—barely a story high. The strain made his knees buckle, his vision blur.
The fireworks ignited.
The tower's flowing surface caught the light, refracting it in wild, unpredictable bursts—an explosion magnified a hundredfold. The alley erupted into chaos. Light flared like the birth of a star, heat and smoke blasting outward.
Astra seized the moment. He reached for the light, the faint connection he'd once ignored, as he infused his mana with all of his will. He whispered a single command:
"Shine."
The brilliance intensified, swallowing everything. His shadow dome collapsed, dissolving into tendrils that fled from the illumination.
The upper bazaar roared in confusion.
Spectators turned toward the explosion, shouting. Duskguards surged forward. Even the stationed Dusknights and their aloof stations cast their cold gazes in the direction of the disturbance. They clearly saw Astra running through the back alleys but decided to not do anything. After all why should they care about an accident from a mere vagrant rank one?
Back to the scene Astra was already gone.
He slipped through the chaos, boots pounding against cobblestone, weaving through the maze of backstreets. The weight of that gaze still lingered—until, slowly, it began to falter.
Did I lose it? he wondered, not daring to look back.
He ducked into a narrow stairwell leading downward—a forgotten artery into the lower city. The steps descended steeply, spiraling into gloom. With each step, the light of the bazaar dimmed, replaced by the cool embrace of shadow.
Down here, the air was damp, metallic, and silent.
Astra took a long breath and let his mana settle. The shadows responded, gathering around him once more, soft and familiar. They curled against his skin like old friends.
Only then did he allow himself to whisper, barely audible in the dark—
"What was that?"
And the silence that answered him was almost worse than the gaze itself.
...….
Upper Bazaar
"What the fuck—ugh, that hurt!"
An elven woman hissed, clutching her eyes as though a dagger of light had been driven into them. Her voice cut through the hum of the bazaar, sharp enough to draw gasps from the crowd. Even her anger couldn't dim her beauty; it only made it more arresting, dangerous.
"My princess," her companion murmured, his tone low and faintly reproachful. "Please, your tongue."
Both wore cloaks of dark green that rippled like water in the lamplight, embroidered with a silver sigil—an ancient bow, sleek and severe. The mark alone sent a tremor through the gathered onlookers. These were not common elves.
The princess stood out as if the world itself was painted to frame her. Her hair caught every flicker of firelight, strands of pale gold shining like silk beneath the violet sky. Her skin was moonlit porcelain, unblemished and cold. One eye was a sharp sapphire streaked with threads of gold, the other a deep violet marbled faintly with crimson. Beauty was abundant in Duskfall, but the presence she carried made the air bend around her. People looked at her, then quickly looked away, as if they had seen something forbidden.
Behind her stood her mentor, tall and broad-shouldered, with hair the color of sunlight that had begun to silver at the edges. His eyes were a measured green, patient and keen, and though his robe was simpler than hers, authority radiated from him with quiet weight. The crowd parted instinctively in his presence, without knowing why.
"What an interesting child," he said at last, voice calm but laced with curiosity. His eyes stayed fixed on the alley's fading shimmer.
"Interesting?" the princess scoffed. "He's a clever little thief, nothing more. A rat with tricks. What in the hell did he even do?"
Her mentor traced the air with two fingers, reading the faint currents of mana that still lingered there. "A fusion of shadow, water, and light. Intentional, not desperate. He cloaked himself in shadows, then shaped a tower of water dense enough to refract the explosion from the fireworks and amplify the light within it. Ingenious, crude, but effective."
He smiled faintly. "Did you see how the light bent? The shadows obeyed even as it intensified. That rotation alone would qualify for B-rank quality of work, with water affinity clearly present."
The princess frowned, her irritation giving way to intrigue. "B-rank? From that?"
"And light," he replied. "The layering, the precision—it wasn't improvised. He has natural instinct, and… shadow, as well. Really high affinity at that. He felt me watching him before the spell broke. He even felt you. Most wouldn't notice until their mana had already begun to unravel."
She went still for a moment, though her pride held firm. "A street rat with unique variants of water, light, and shadow affinities? Ridiculous. What a lucky bastard." She hesitated. "Still… when I pressed harder, he panicked. Not like someone who knows fear. It was deeper, almost primal. Perhaps he's carrying a sealed bloodline. A remnant of something that should have died out."
Her mentor's gaze softened, an amused light touching his expression. "Then that makes him a very interesting pawn."
She clicked her tongue, flicking her golden hair aside with a sharp motion. "I was bored, and nearly blinded for it. What a waste of time. Gadriel, go inform that simpering Palm scion he's been robbed."
"As you command, my princess."
"And stop calling me that."
"…Yes, Princess."