The Valley’s marketplace was a tightly-regulated, strongly-patrolled area. Guardians were present at every street corner, their Crystal blades hanging intimidatingly at their hip. The markets were nominally under the control of the Ministry, but Cassiel knew from Prianne and her time in the Weathered Page that the only merchants that got permits to open here were the ones who kowtowed to the wishes of the Houses.

Most of the shops here had been around as long as Cassiel could remember, so she was familiar with their storefronts. The broad, glass-paned front filled with shoes was the cobbler, the elaborately designed double doors belonged to the carpenter, and the plain, simply-signposted shop was the butcher’s.

More stalls and temporary merchant posts were less common - the Valley prided itself on a certain isolationist bent, and the Houses rarely suffered the more foolish merchants who tried quick and dirty street trading.

That being said, the thoroughfare bustled with life, as the non-Implanted citizenry went about their daily life. There was to be an announcement outside the Ministry tonight, presumably to do with promoting the Tournament - fortunately, Cassiel doubted anyone would be surprised if she wasn’t in attendance.

Danion’s note hadn’t told her exactly where the merchant caravan the Valley delegation would be taking was. Thankfully there was little mistaking the grand procession of wagons and caravans, each pulled by a pair of horses or mules, and piled high with specialist Valley goods.

The Houses would not permit loose Crystals to be transported to the Inner Cities, obviously - they were the backbone of the Valley’s military strength, and they couldn’t even spare a single Ward prospect another attempt at the growing Crystal Implants. That being said, there were a lot of plants nearby that adapted to the presence of the Sunlight Aurora - fruits could be produced all year around, and a lot of the vegetation provided a certain vigorous energy to those who consumed it.

Those plants were often provided freely during Academy mealtime, stewed or fried and accompanying the pork that was common to the area.

Other than that, the specialty goods they were providing were mostly luxury crafts. Blacksmiths in the Valley rarely needed to produce weapons - except for those rare times when the Ministry deemed it necessary to raise a militia - so weapons were uncommon exports.

Cassiel kept her distance while the Guardians checked over the goods to make sure there were no Crystals hidden among them, accidentally-placed or otherwise. Danion had suggested a food caravan to sneak into as a way of keeping herself from going hungry on the way to the Inner Cities, but she didn’t know how feasible that was. The food was being transported in unprepared forms and wouldn’t necessarily be suitable for eating.

She had prepared a package of food that would keep for a long time - salted meats and jerkies, some grain cakes and cheese. Her priority was survivability, and she didn’t know if the delegation would be willing to feed her on the course of the journey. She had to be prepared for anything.

The journey would take around a week and a half, supposedly - the Ministry had been putting out occasional notices on the Tournament to drum up support from the Valley, mainly focusing on how it could bring glory and riches to the Valley.

That said, it had had some interesting nuggets of information in there - like the names of some of the more famous participants.

Famous might have been an overstatement - Cassiel had never heard of them, nor apparently had Prianne or any of the Weathered Page’s other customers.

Prianne was both chatty and fairly loud, and Cassiel wasn’t above eavesdropping.

That said, Juediel and some of the other Elites had been talking after the Academy had let out, and she had heard tension in their voices - apparently one of them was dreading facing ‘the Bellringer,’ whoever that was.

Not that that was necessarily applicable to Cassiel herself - she would be participating in the under-eighteen bracket, which hopefully meant there were no ‘big names.’

She shifted her pack on her shoulder, glancing around as she did so. It was progressing towards evening - Illumina was just peeking over the horizon, and the shadows in the marketplace were noticeably longer. She pressed herself further into the shadowed overhang of the cobbler’s, glad for once that she only had half the glow of the typical Implanted.

It was unlikely that people would pay that much attention to her - unlike the other Implanted, Cassiel drew no awed stares or envious fascination. The Guardians treated her with disdain, the Elites with derision, and the regular citizens seemed awkward and unsure of her - she had the one wing, but she was a social outcast because she didn’t have the second. Either way, they either ignored her or gave her pitying looks.

Some days she thought the pity was worse than the derision.

On the other side of the marketplace, a town crier announced the beginning of a speech from the Valley Minister. Coincidentally, he was the head of one of the Valley’s foremost Houses.

Cassiel was sure there was no link there.

As attention turned away from individual tasks and people began to drift towards the town hall, Cassiel surreptitiously dodged back, behind the cobbler’s. She took another quick glance around - there were no prying eyes around, for now at least - and crouched, then pushed off with both legs and her one wing.

It only provided enough lift for her to just barely reach one hand over the lip of the building, but with a surge of suffusion through her arm that was enough to lever her torso upwards, get her other arm over, and clamber fully onto the top of the one-story building. She crept over to the other side of the building and peeked out over the edge.

Most everyone had gathered outside the town hall, now, where several Ministry officials had exited in preparation for the Minister’s speech. Even most of the Guardians posted in this area had turned their heads, at least.

Which meant for the moment, at least, no-one was watching the sky.

It was a more common occurrence in the Valley than the rare visitor seemed to assume - with Elites and Guardians more or less constantly in flight overhead, turning one’s gaze upwards was a decent way to guess at whether there was any upheaval or controversy in the Valley.

With people gathered for the announcement, however, it meant that Cassiel was free to leap from the cobbler’s flare her wing to its full extent, and glide over towards the caravan, before landing gently atop the largest wagon.

She pulled the tarp to one side, to look at the neatly packaged barrels of something-or-other - wine, by the smell? - and chewed at her lip. Would there be enough space in there for her to sleep? Or would she be constantly jostled by the movement of the barrels enough to give her a way?

With a muttered curse, she pulled the tarp back over the wagon and jump-glided to the next vehicle in the line.

This one was a little more haphazardly stacked, enough that she could carve out enough room for herself to brace a small sleeping spot- but also contained packages that looked like luggage. If they were regularly looked at by the merchants, or the delegation, then she would be discovered far too quickly.

She continued moving down the line of wagons and caravans, shifting tarps and trying to find decent hiding spots. Always, she found a reason not to risk it - but she was running out of options.

The second to last caravan was a full room on wheels, and when she opened the door she found it piled high with rugs, linens, and bedding. She had to bite her lip from laughing at her good fortune - of course they would be selling woven blankets and silk! She should have been looking for this carriage from the start.

She slipped fully inside the caravan, and dug her way into a secluded corner, partially unrolling one plush rug and covering herself with another.

This way, she was largely hidden, but still comfortable, and presumably the merchants would have no reason to check on this unit until arrival - though Cassiel would probably reveal herself before then.

Bedding chosen and hiding place secure, Cassiel settled into a balled-up position, and did her best to fall asleep.

Anxiety and excitement kept her heart pounding through the distant sound of the Minister’s speech, but as the light through the door’s cracks faded and the sound subsided, she found she was eventually able to drift into a fitful, restless sleep.