Silver Star City's morning mist always carried a strange, sickly sweet odor, a volatile mix of machine oil and Aetheric ozone. Within the haze, massive Brass Pipes stretched like a distorted metallic network. Intermittent bursts of steam condensed on the cobblestones, forming puddles of iridescent runoff—the oily residue of condensation mixed with leaked energy from the Aetheric Lamps. These lamps, suspended over market stalls, glowed with a pale, insect-like luminescence, their glass filled with floating Motes of Light. This unnatural glare cast a pallid, sickly sheen over the stacks of mechanical parts, withered herbs, and rust-caked instruments. In the distance, the deep, resonant drone of a Cogwork Train on the high rail mingled with a low, scraping whisper rising from the Aetheric Conduits below—a sound like metal on silk, suggesting something unspeakable was using a non-human tongue to lick the subterranean pipe walls.
Kaelan Blackwood walked ahead, the skirt of his silver-trimmed, deep-blue uniform sweeping over the cobblestone slush. Water droplets splashed onto his boot heels, only to be instantly vaporized by the heat radiating from the street pipes. He turned, offering his characteristic mild smile, his left hand casually resting near his cuff—the concealed trigger point for an instant Aetheric Shield.
"The first month of basic studies is over. It's necessary to familiarize you with the daily wards of Silver Star City, and to acquire some fundamental Aetheric Consumables," he stated, his voice smooth and authoritative. "Remaining exclusively within the Seventh Tower leads to detachment. It is not beneficial for maintaining the Soother guise."
Elara Thorne followed, her hands hanging loosely, knuckles white with suppressed tension. She possessed no currency; Kaelan had not offered pocket money, and she had not asked. But standing at the edge of the market, the stark reality of being penniless was a sharp, physical discomfort, amplified by the Dissonant Power in her core.
The stalls near the street corner were the most desperate. An old woman, bundled in a multi-patched canvas cloak, tremulously counted out five worn Black Iron Coppers—cast iron coins tainted with furnace ash, their edges smoothed into meaningless oblivion—to the vendor. In exchange, the vendor tossed her a piece of moldy black bread. The crumbs hit the gutter by the woman's bare feet, immediately snatched by three skeletal rats. Nearby, a man covered in soot desperately clung to the hand of a small girl whose Aetheric Sensing Crystal hung around her neck, dull as common quartz.
"Three Steam Silver Crowns! She can help clean the Aetheric Conduits and perform basic Filament Stabilization…" the man pleaded, his voice a low, desperate whine. "I beg you, consider it charity…" The vendor spat, the sparks from his brass pipe falling onto the ground. "The Frostborne workshops only pay two Steam Silver Crowns for an apprentice! Do you take me for the Royal House's charity ward?"
Elara's gaze swept over the vendor's price board: half an ounce of Shadow Lichen was one Steam Silver Crown; a bundle of Starlit Moss was five Black Iron Coppers. She calculated silently: one Steam Silver Crown equaled twenty Black Iron Coppers—three Steam Silver Crowns was sixty Coppers, enough to buy the begging woman twelve loaves of moldy bread. And she, the hidden Witch, possessed zero Coppers. The Rotting Earth Codex pressed against her heart, reminding her that every one of its forbidden alchemical recipes required substantial currency or an illegal network to acquire. Old Ash's warning in Cogwork Alley, "Silver Star City's shadows are deeper," resonated clearly now. The surface market ran on Steam Silver Crowns and Black Iron Coppers; the forbidden items she required circulated only in the Underground Market.
"What holds your attention?" Kaelan's voice pulled her back. He followed her gaze to the desperate man, his brow slightly furrowed, his Aetheric Pulse carrying a barely perceptible edge of cold distaste. "These matters are not your concern. We are going to the Aetheric Consumables shop up ahead." He detached a small leather pouch from his watch chain and handed her two Steam Silver Crowns—silver coins engraved with a crossed gear and wand, their edges faintly glowing with Aetheric Luster. "Take these. Buy the necessary Filament Stabilizers. You may use the remainder for fresh bread."
Elara accepted the silver, the metal cold against her fingertips. She was about to head toward the designated stall when a shadow abruptly fell across her path.
"Well, well. If it isn't Senior Kaelan's 'Cinder Town scullion'?" Lionel's voice carried an amplified, cruel mockery. He was flanked by two Frostborne attendants. Their boots deliberately ground against the stall's edge, kicking over a cloth sack of Starlit Moss. Brown powder dusted Elara's gray uniform trousers. "What's this? Senior Kaelan actually gave you money for cheap consumables? I thought you were only fit for Cinder Town garbage."
The stall owner, a limping old man, immediately retreated behind his counter, clutching his apron, too terrified to breathe—the Frostborne Family's icy crest on Lionel's collar was an absolute decree to the common folk. Lionel bent down and used the toe of his boot to grind the spilled Starlit Moss powder into the stones, splattering some onto Elara's shoe. "Heard you got 'lucky' with a solidified salve in alchemy class? Don't think that just because Senior Kaelan is shielding you, you can forget your origins…"
Elara's hands unconsciously clenched the Steam Silver Crowns in her pocket, her knuckles white. She had no Concealment Dust ready. There were too many people, and exposing any Witch anomaly here would be catastrophic. Just as Lionel reached out to shove her shoulder, a sudden, crushing force of Aether seized his wrist like an invisible hand.
Kaelan had moved silently behind them. His silver-trimmed uniform shimmered with cold light in the mist. The mild warmth was gone from his eyes, replaced by an icy, razor-sharp focus. "Lionel, where is your hand trying to go?"
"S-Senior Kaelan…" Lionel's wrist trembled under the invisible Aetheric pressure, his face instantly pale. "I was just… joking with Thorne."
"Joking?" Kaelan stepped closer, his Aetheric Pulse spiking sharply. The two Frostborne attendants behind Lionel immediately stumbled and fell into the gutter water. "Is what is mine, yours to 'joke' with?" He raised his hand, and the Aether crawled up Lionel's arm, forcing the boy into a deep, agonizing bow. "Apologize to her."
"I-I'm sorry, Thorne…" Lionel's voice was choked with terror, his forehead nearly touching the filthy street water. "I won't dare to do it again…"
Kaelan withdrew his Aether, his tone regaining a frigid semblance of calm. "Take your people and leave. Next time I see you within three meters of her, an apology will be the least of your concerns."
Lionel scrambled away with his flunkies, leaving a trail of chaos. Kaelan produced another Steam Silver Crown and handed it to the shaking stall owner. "Compensation for your loss." He turned to Elara, his fingertips gently brushing the spilled powder from her trousers, his movements delicate, as if she were fragile porcelain. "Frightened? I told you, with me here, no one will dare to harm you."
Elara lowered her eyes, masking the complexity within them. This protection was a gilded cage—warm, yet completely airtight. Her gaze unintentionally swept past the stall's corner to a service door, half-hidden by vines. Etched into the lintel was a small, unmistakable bronze Cogwheel Symbol—the exact mark Old Ash had described for the Underground Market. The Rotting Earth Codex, pressed against her heart, reminded her that forbidden knowledge required resources, and the two Steam Silver CrownsKaelan had given her wouldn't even purchase a substantial amount of basic Shadow Lichen.
Kaelan turned toward the official Aetheric Consumables shop, the filtered sunlight glinting off his uniform. Elara quickly followed, her resolve hardening—tonight, she would find the shadows behind that hidden door. Silver Star City's light was bright, but it could never penetrate the darkness below, and that was where her true power and freedom lay.