The air was thick with the scent of smoke, sweat, and something foul that clung to the back alleys of the criminal market. Kaelen walked through the narrow streets, her eyes scanning every shadowed corner, every face that passed by. The market was a place of lawlessness and intrigue—a place where information was bought and sold like currency, and where people disappeared as quickly as they appeared. For Kaelen, it was the perfect place to find the answers she needed.
Marek's offer was still fresh in her mind, his promise of power and influence hanging like a weight around her neck. She had accepted his terms, but she was not foolish enough to place her trust in him completely.
There was a part of her, a cold, rational part, that knew she needed to gather more intelligence—information that could give her leverage, information that might help her navigate the dangerous paths ahead.
The criminal market, as infamous as it was, held more than just illicit goods. It held secrets. And those secrets, in the right hands, could change the course of Kaelen's life.
She pulled her hood up, hiding her face from the few wandering eyes that lingered on her. A mercenary didn't look out of place here. She could blend in with the thieves, the dealers, the smugglers. All she had to do was keep her head down, not draw attention, and find who she was looking for.
Her first stop was a small stall nestled between two dilapidated buildings, its proprietor a gnarled old man with crooked teeth and eyes that missed nothing. He had a reputation for dealing in rare, hard-to-find information. If anyone in this market knew anything about Marek's plans—or about his enemies—it was him.
Kaelen approached the stall with careful steps, her boots making barely a sound on the cracked stone pavement. The old man looked up, his yellowed eyes narrowing as he sized her up. His lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I don't sell to strangers," he rasped, his voice like gravel.
Kaelen's hand brushed against the hilt of the blade sheathed at her side, a subtle movement that made the old man's eyes flicker with caution.
He'd heard of her.
Everyone in this place had.
She was known for getting what she wanted—whether through negotiation or force.
"I'm not here to buy anything you can't afford to part with," she said, her tone cool and collected. "I need information. And I can make it worth your while."
The old man chuckled, a sound that was more wheeze than laugh. "Information's not cheap, girl. And it comes at a price. You sure you want to pay it?"
Kaelen leaned in slightly, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made the old man hesitate. "You wouldn't be the first person to regret a poor decision. So think carefully."
The old man scratched his chin, his gaze darting to the crowd around them. He seemed to weigh her words, then gave a grudging nod. "Fine. I've got what you want. But it's going to cost you."
Kaelen didn't flinch. "Name your price."
He hesitated for a moment, his beady eyes gleaming with something akin to amusement. "There's a merchant in the back alley. Deals in all sorts of things. He's connected to his operation. I've heard whispers, rumors… things you might want to know."
The mention of Marek made Kaelen's pulse quicken, but she kept her face impassive. Marek had made his offer. But how much of what he promised was true? How much of it was manipulation? If she could find the cracks in his empire, she could make sure he didn't think he could control her.
Not yet, at least.
"Where can I find him?" she asked, already stepping back.
The old man smirked. "No one just walks into that alley. You'll need to prove your worth. The merchant likes to test people before he talks."
Kaelen tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "Test me how?"
A glint of something dark flashed in the old man's eyes. "He deals in rare things. Powerful things. If you want to get his attention, you'll need to do something for him first. Something… unpleasant."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "I don't do favors for anyone."
The old man's smile widened, showing the yellowed teeth. "Then you won't get the information you want. It's your choice."
Kaelen stood still for a moment, considering her options. She had no time to waste. But if this merchant held the key to understanding Marek's world, then she would play his game, for now. She was done making empty threats. She was ready to get her hands dirty if it meant finding the leverage she needed.
"Fine," she said at last, her voice low and firm. "Tell me where to find him."
The old man leaned in, lowering his voice. "Back alley, third door on the right. You'll know which one. If you're lucky, he might be in a good mood."
Kaelen nodded once, turning on her heel and walking away without another word. As she moved deeper into the market, she felt the eyes of the criminal world on her, and for the first time, it didn't bother her. She was a part of it now, as much as she had ever been.
The alley was narrow, its walls covered in grime and peeling posters. The door was exactly where the old man had said it would be—unmarked, but somehow still standing out from the others. Kaelen knocked once, and the door creaked open just enough for a pair of bloodshot eyes to peer through the crack.
"What do you want?" the voice rasped.
Kaelen didn't waste time with pleasantries. "I'm here for the merchant. I need information."
The door opened wider, revealing a dimly lit room beyond. The air smelled of smoke and herbs, and the flickering light cast long shadows on the walls. Kaelen stepped inside, her eyes immediately locking onto the figure sitting in the far corner. He was an older man, dressed in dark, faded clothes, his hands twitching slightly as if he couldn't stay still.
"You've got a reputation," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "What makes you think you can walk into my space and ask for what you want?"
Kaelen didn't flinch. "I'm not here to make small talk. I need something specific. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get it."
The merchant's eyes flickered with interest. "We'll see about that."
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