The Isles of Zephyros — The Decennial Market.
Mira didn't even flinch when the merchant's hand touched her forehead.
For a moment nothing really happened. Then came the pale blue light erupting from the merchant's palm, pouring out like liquid fire down his face and across her chest. The fire wasn't hot per day but cold in a sense, the kind of cold that sinks into one's bones.
Her eyes rolled back as the bright light thickened, drawn from within her like threads of silk. Tobin stood there in awe and he could see it now. Strands of light, each rushing out faintly carrying fragments of something living.
The merchant's other hand traced patterns through the air, weaving the threads into a small glass vial. The light coiled within it, restless and trembling, before settling into a calm, steady glow.
Mira collapsed in one go but Tobin caught onto her before she hit the stone.
"Captain? Talk to me. " His voice was shallow.
Her eyes blinked slowly, gaze unfocused. "What… happened?"
"You tell me," Tobin said, shaking her gently. "You agreed to his trade."
She frowned, trying to sit up. "Trade?"
The merchant leaned forward, voice smooth and pleased. "A fair transaction. One memory for one ingot of star-metal. The contract is all but complete."
Tobin's heart pounded. "What memory did you take?"
"Your bond together is so nice. " The merchant tilted her head. "The one most connected to you, First Mate."
"Your reason for following her. I took the first day you two met."
Mira turned her face to Tobin, confusion written across her face. "..sorry, first mate?, I'm sorry, do I know you?"
For a moment, Tobin couldn't breathe. "You are my captain. " He managed to blurt out. "I've served on your ship for five years!. "
"Do you not remember me? "
Her eyes drew together. "Five years?" she looked down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. "I remember my ship. I remember the routes. The crew. But…" Her eyes met his but they were empty and so unfamiliar. "I do not remember you."
Something inside him twisted.
The merchant smiled. "A memory is a delicate thing, Captain Tessali. Remove one thread, and the pattern shifts. Loyalty, friendship, trust such things are so fickle, so easily woven from memory. When you take it away, there is… absence. "
"You stole her, " Tobin angrily hissed. "Give her back now! "
"I bought from her," the merchant corrected him. "A honest trade. She offered a moment, and I paid its worth. The contract binds us both. I would never cheat. "
The vial in her hand shimmered faintly. Within it, the blue light flickered in unison with Mira's heartbeat.
"Give it back. "
The merchant's smile didn't waver. "Impossible without exchange. The Market abides by balance. If you wish to restore what was taken, you must offer something equal in return."
"What do you want?" Tobin tried to bargain.
The merchant leaned closer. Her eyes, pale as frost, caught the light of the lanterns. "A fragment," she said softly. "Not a memory—something deeper. A piece of what makes you, Tobin. Just a small one. You won't even notice it's gone."
Tobin felt his throat go dry. "You're talking about my soul."
The merchant's grin widened. "Such a crude word. Think of it instead as essence. A fairer trade, don't you agree?"
Tobin stared at Mira. He had followed her through storms, mutinies, and airship skirmishes. She was the one who'd saved his life in Tempest Straits, who'd made him laugh on nights when laughter was impossible. He chose her ship over every other.
And now she looked at him like a stranger.
"No," he whispered. "Not like this."
He couldn't live like this again.
"Captain. " he said again, " I'll make you remember me again. "
He turned back to the merchant. "If I agree, you'll give it all back? Every piece of what you took?"
The merchant inclined her head. "Every fragment. She will remember the day you joined your crew. She will remember why he stayed. He will remember your love. "
"And the cost?"
The merchant raised the vial, blue light glinting through her fingers. "A portion equal in weight. A measure of the self. The Market does not steal Tobin Vane, it always balances. "
Tobin felt the tremor in her hands, he knew it was the making of a bad choice but he didn't care. The captain had taken him aboard when no one else would, who'd believed in him when even she had not.
He swallowed. "Take it," he said. "Whatever it is. Take what you need. Just give her back full."
The merchant's grin turned reverent. "As you wish."
The merchant stepped closer, her robes whispering like silk. Tobin expected pain, but when the cold hand pressed to his chest, there was none, he only felt an absence.
The sensation was wrong in every possible way, like something unspooling inside him, like light leaking through cracks in her ribs. A thread of pale blue light began to rise from his chest, connecting him to the merchant's palm. It pulsed once, twice, then flowed outward, drawn as though by gravity.
Tobin gasped. It wasn't agony, but it was worse. It was emptiness. The sudden sense that something fundamental was leaving... something he could never name fully, but would forever feel missing to him.
The merchant's eyes fluttered shut as she drank it in, her form flickering between flesh and shadow. The light from the stalls dimmed as if bowing to the act. When she spoke, her voice carried a dozen echoes.
"The binding is complete."
The thread snapped. Tobin staggered, catching on to the edge of the stalls.
His heartbeat felt lighter—wrongly so, as if it beat someone else. He looked at Mira, her gaze clearer now, her breathing and steadied, her confusion all but gone.
"Captain? " he said softly.
Recognition filled Mira eyes. "You look pale. Are you all right?"
Tobin tried to answer, but words refused to come out. Something inside him resisted speech, as though the part that knew how to feel had been taken away with the payment.
The merchant corked the vial and slipped it beneath her robes. "A fair trade," she said. "She remembers. You forget. "
"What… did I forget?" Tobin asked, his voice all but faint.
The merchant's smile was all teeth. "You'll never know. That's the beauty of it."
Around them, the Market's hum started to deepen even darker. The blue glow spread through the stalls like veins of grass.. The merchants lifted their heads in silent accord, their hollow eyes reflecting the light.
The air thickened, vibrating with invisible current. Somewhere deep below, the floating platform acted as if alive.
Mira reached instinctively for Tobin's arm—but where warmth should have been, she felt nothing. Her hand passed through the air just above his sleeve, skin prickling with the ghost of contact.
"The binding is complete," the voices of the Market whispered in unison.
Tobin looked down on his arms and saw faint threads of blue light still clinging to his fingertips, drifting away like smoke toward the heart of the bazaar.
He tried to call out, but the words stuck to his dry throat.
And then he felt it... part of him slipping free, flowing away into the depths of the Market.
End of Part II: The Price is Paid.