Even after creatures attacked the populace during the eclipse, the marketplace was as lively as ever. From the looks of things, nobody was harmed, at least not here. Well, it was that or the City Watch Officers were the world's fastest cleaning crew.

Aleister perused the streets and the stalls, looking for a quality bag. Specifically, one of the messenger kind. It was just more convenient for his needs, even if had less storage space. A rucksack would be fine too, if it held enough appeal for him. Alas, his task held a much greater difficulty than anticipated. He left the marketplace and wandered through the streets. He stopped and asked several passersby if they knew of any good leatherworkers. The answers were so all over the place; it surprised him he didn't ask a leatherworker themself.

He eventually stumbled upon a raggedy-looking place named Sticks and Stones. Age weathered and chipped the exterior stone pattern throughout the years. The wooden door banged up. Honestly, the fact this place still existed was a miracle. Maybe their goods were just that good. But he had seen no one enter or exit the place. He finished the rest of his fried banana and threw the wooden stick into a trash can.

A green cloud blossomed as he opened the door. The rank smell of must invaded his nose. Aleister let out a dry cough as he covered his face with his shirt, waving his hand to clear the air in front of him. The shop's wooden interior was empty. Which told him all he needed to know.

He turned around and grabbed the door handle. It wouldn't twist open.

"Leaving so soon? How sad." The grave and rough voice reverberated through the room. Aleister jumped up and spun around.

"I'm just a poor boy, no need for your sympathy."

"Wealth is irrelevant in this place."

"Yeah," Aleister looked around at the space, "I kind of noticed."

"Material possessions are but mere insignificant mortal instruments that halt the true progress we should pursue," the gangly human man said. The tip of his hooked nose was round. A strange sight to behold. White robes and golden ornaments covered his body.

"Quite hypocritical of you, wouldn't you say?"

"A necessary evil."

Aleister looked at his decadent accessories with a raised eyebrow. "Necessary might be a little of a stretch."

The man flexed his right hand and cracked each finger's joint, one by one. He continued the action with his left hand. "You've been to the Atheneum."

"Have I?"

"Yes."

"Have I, really though?"

The man crunched his hand into a fist—and then released it open. A black smoke levitated in the middle of his palm. It solidified and transformed into a thin and black rectangle. A bookmark. "Its existence inscribed itself all over your body. You would know and have been able to mask it, if you were a Weaver. Which—you aren't. Yet—you entered. That is why I was curious enough to invite you."

"Ok, but I came in to look for a bag, not because you invited me."

The man stared at him with a blank face.

"Can I leave now?"

"No."

"When can I leave?"

"After you have answered my question."

"You haven't asked one. You only made a statement."

The man wriggled his fingers around. "Do you feel no fear?"

"I fear a lot of things."

"Do you not," the man let out a warm breath, "Fear me?" A gleam of fire permeated the already dry room.

Aleister felt his throat dry up. He swallowed his built up saliva. "Did me rushing to leave not clue you in? Also, was that your question? Wasted opportunity of one if you ask me, but whatever. This means I can leave now, right?"

The blank expression on the man's face expanded into a wide grin. "I'll let you leave. Just tell me how you entered?"

He explained how he arrived at the Atheneum, including how the librarian told him to leave, but excluded any mentions of Syn. Speaking of which, why was she always gone when he needed her?

The gangly man took a step back and waved the black bookmark away. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Young for an elf."

"Half-elf."

"Human for your other half, I assume?" The gangly man sat down on a wooden rocking chair. Aleister didn't even know where it came from. "I see it now, but on first glance you could pass for a pure elf."

"Thanks—I think?"

"You wish to know the significance of the golden ornaments I wear, correct?"

"No..." Aleister bit back his words. He wanted to leave, but cooperating would most likely make that outcome a reality instead of just making cheap snarky remarks. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I would like to know." He placed a heavy emphasis on that word, even taking a momentary pause after before continuing. "Know more about not only the ornaments but also who are you and what is this place?"

"Who am I?" The man stood up, defeating the purpose of the chair. "That's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes, but I also asked because I'm being in a constant state of fear for my life and want confirmation that you won't turn me into a puddle of blood and bone."

"Kill you? Why would I kill you? I have no reason. I just wished to learn about how you managed to enter the Atheneum," the man said. "And while you didn't give me a concrete answer, I gathered enough information from your responses and actions to fill me in. Besides, the law classifies murder as a major crime in the entire Lillium Empire."

"Only if you get caught."

"The City Watch are very good at what they do."

Aleister forced a smile and said nothing.

"Unfortunately, violence is usually done in a mindless state. Where emotions dictate reason." The man snarled and grew a look of utter disgust. "Preventing conversations, how vile. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Completely." Although, violence was necessary to portray certain ideas. He wasn't going to mention that thought though.