Merchant Borin scuttled toward them with a bright smile that didn't touch his eyes. "Ah, fine customers! Welcome to my humble curios!"
His voice carried the practiced enthusiasm of a man who'd memorized his pitch. "We have items from the East, the Far North, even the sand-drenched coasts of the Dusk Peninsula! What may I help you find today?"
Kael's grin was all teeth and sunshine. "Actually," he said, voice smooth as aged wine, "I was hoping for something far more… rare."
Borin blinked. "Rare?"
"Oh yes," Kael nodded, pretending to browse through a row of dagger hilts. "You see, I'm looking for something you can't exactly display on a shelf."
He lifted a beautifully carved flute with golden inlay, gave it a spin, and set it back down. "Something… personal."
Borin's smile flickered. "Sir, I assure you, we run a proper establishment. We don't deal in, ah, those kinds of rarities."
"Oh, no need to panic," Kael said cheerfully. "I'm not here for forbidden goods." He turned, smile fading into something colder.
"I just wanted to speak with you, Borin. About that very interesting little drama from earlier."
The color drained from Borin's cheeks faster than wine from a leaking cask. "I-I don't know what you mean."
Kael stepped closer, voice gentle, eyes sharp. "Oh, I think you do. And here's the curious thing, Borin." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"When those disciples dragged you out earlier, you were sweating like a piglet at a wolf's wedding. But afterward? You came back without a scratch."
Borin swallowed. Loudly.
"Not even a bruise," Kael continued. "In fact, you were furious at the crowd, not scared. That tells me one of two things, Borin."
He folded his arms casually. "Either you're stupidly brave, which I don't believe, or you knew you weren't in danger."
The merchant's lips quivered. "T-this is dangerous talk, traveler."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous for you, maybe. Not for me." His voice carried the confidence of someone who'd walked into far worse situations and talked his way out alive.
"I'm just a stranger with eyes and ears. And what I saw today doesn't line up with what your Sect friends want the world to believe."
The silence stretched, tense and brittle. Helga stood by the door like a statue made of muscle and murder, casually spinning a silver throwing axe between her fingers.
Borin's eyes flicked toward her, and sweat began to pool under his hairline.
"I'm not here to hurt you, Borin," Kael said softly. "In fact, I want to help." He paused, studying the merchant's face. "But I need to talk to someone a little higher up. Someone like… the village head."
Borin recoiled like he'd been slapped. "The Head doesn't meet with commoners."
"I'm not common," Kael said, voice dropping lower. "And I think you'll find he'd very much like to hear what I have to say."
He stepped closer, close enough that Borin could see the calculating gleam in his eyes. "Especially when it comes to preserving the narrative the Sect is building. Which is to your own best interest as well."
The merchant's hands began to shake slightly. Kael noticed and filed it away.
"You see, Borin, I'm not the kind of outsider who asks too many questions in public," Kael continued.
"But I know how stories work. I know that if word got out that the recovery of the Sunstone Token was staged, that it was just a ruse to protect their image while they hunt the real thief in silence…"
He let the sentence hang. "Well, that might cause a bit of a stir, wouldn't it? The sect… what might they do to you in their anger?"
Borin's hands twitched. His lips pressed into a tight line. "You… you don't know anything. You're just guessing."
Kael shrugged. "Sure. But I guess very well." He leaned against the counter, the picture of casual confidence. "And I saw you speaking to that man some days ago. Don't think you can deny anything anymore."
The merchant's face went pale. He had no idea Kael was lying through his teeth. In fact, even Helga almost believed him!
"How fast do you think this rumor can spread? Aren't you curious? How fast till 'they' come for you?"
Borin looked like someone had hit him in the stomach with a frozen ham. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. "I… I…"
Kael didn't let up. "See, Borin, they may think they have pulled the wool over this village's eyes. But I see the strings."
Borin finally collapsed onto a stool behind the counter. "You… you don't understand how dangerous this is. If they find out…"
Kael held himself back from frowning in suspicion. It appeared he was onto something larger than he expected…
"They won't," he said calmly. "Unless someone talks." He straightened, his tone becoming businesslike.
"But if someone were to quietly arrange a meeting between me and the village head… perhaps in the alley behind his manor, tonight… well, no one needs to know anything ever happened."
Borin buried his face in his hands. For several long seconds, he just breathed, like a man trapped underwater.
Then, voice barely above a whisper: "I'll send a message. He'll meet you." He looked up, eyes haunted. "But just for five minutes. That's all I can promise."
Kael smiled like a fox. "Five minutes is all I need."
Helga finally stopped spinning the axe and tucked it back into her belt. Kael gave Borin a light pat on the shoulder, the way one might pat a dog that had just learned a new trick.
"You're doing the right thing," Kael said. "I'm not here to burn anyone. Just to… illuminate a few shadows and then leave. I'm just a humble traveler."
As they stepped back out into the sun, Kael took a deep breath and looked around the village square.
The sun was falling fast, painting the cobbled roads and wooden rooftops in soft gold. Children played in the distance, the clatter of a food cart rang nearby, and the air smelled like fried dough and secrets.
Helga glanced sideways. "You sure that worked?"
Kael nodded. "Oh, he'll set up the meeting. He's too tangled up to refuse. He is the softest, weakest willed man I have ever seen."
He watched a merchant haggling over vegetables in the distance. "He's been dancing on thin ice since the moment he agreed to help the Sect stage that recovery. He just didn't expect someone else to start watching the ripples."
Helga grunted. "And what if the village head tries to kill you?"
Kael grinned. "Then I'll do what I always do."
"Which is?"
He spread his arms. "Find a way to survive. And steal their wallet on the way out."
…..
A few hours later…
The night was sharp with silence.
A low mist had crept over the ground like a secret too scared to rise, curling between the stone paths and clinging to the lantern poles like it hoped to overhear something scandalous.
The stars above Riverdale glittered coldly, but the true game of lights and shadows was happening below.
In an alley that shouldn't have been accessible, behind a manor no commoner was allowed to approach, let alone stroll through.
Yet here Kael stood, leaning casually against a gnarled, old tree whose branches drooped like they were too tired of listening to merchant's lies.
Helga remained hidden behind another tree, arms crossed, silent as death.
Kael had told her not to intervene unless the village head tried something truly suicidal, like pulling out a hidden blade or summoning guards.
A rustling from the path. Footsteps measured, deliberate, and just loud enough to be dramatic without seeming desperate.
The sort of steps someone took when they wanted their entrance to sound accidental but still impressive.
The village head emerged from the mist like a politician summoned by dramatic lighting.
Robes of dark silk, hair tied back with golden thread, and a face carved from stone, lined with stress, pride, and that special kind of paranoia born from a lifetime of backroom dealings.
"Stranger," the man said without preamble, voice smooth but sharp, like a dagger dipped in oil. "I don't appreciate being summoned like a common servant."
Kael offered an easy smile. "Would've sent a scented invitation, but the local courier system seems a bit biased toward people who already own a manor."
The head's brow twitched.
"I should have you arrested for this arrogance," he said, stepping closer. "Do you know who I am?"
Kael nodded. "Oh yes. You're the man pretending to serve the people of Riverdale while secretly engaging in a far grander scheme."
His tone remained conversational, almost friendly. "The man who just helped stage the 'recovery' of a stolen relic to save face for a group of entitled seekers."
The village head's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
"But you don't do this out of loyalty, do you?" Kael continued, studying the man's face in the moonlight.
"No… you're a bit too clever for that. You serve because you're hiding something even bigger."
The silence that followed was like a vacuum, total and dangerous. For a heartbeat, Kael thought the head might lunge at him.
The man's jaw clenched, his fists briefly curling at his sides. But then restraint. A breath. A small, calculated nod.
"And what exactly do you think you know, stranger?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, casually inspecting a blooming weed nearby.
Its stalks were pale blue, softly glowing in the dark. A rare breed, like truths in this village.
"I don't know anything," he said lightly. "I just observe. That's all I am." He looked up from the flower. "An observer. A traveler with eyes a little too sharp for his own good, and a brain that refuses to turn off. And of course, with potent measures to ensure my survival."
Another step. Now Kael was directly facing the village head, who had drawn up to his full height and was trying to glare him into submission. It might have worked on someone dumber.
"You're not afraid of the Sky Sword Sect because they're powerful," Kael said softly. "You're afraid because if they dig too deep… they might find the thing you're actually trying to protect."
He paused, letting that sink in. "And right now, you're doing damage control, spinning a pretty story to keep them satisfied long enough to avoid the real mess."
Kael grinned.
"So… what if someone like me could help you with that?"
That gave the village head pause. His face didn't change, but his eyes, the real storytellers, narrowed with interest.
"I'm listening," he said finally.
Kael gave a mock bow. "Gracious. Here's the pitch: You've got nosy seekers running around, sniffing at shadows."
He began pacing slowly, hands clasped behind his back. "You can't make them go away, and you can't reveal too much without risking everything. But me? I'm harmless. A nobody."
The village head watched him pace, calculating.
"Just a smart outsider," Kael continued. "If someone like me were to help shape the story you're feeding them, maybe throw in a scapegoat or two, create a few red herrings, it buys you time."
He stopped pacing and faced the man directly. "It keeps their attention focused where you want it. All while your actual secret stays buried."
The village head studied him for a long moment. "And what would you get in return?"
Kael spread his arms. "Travel is expensive. I need resources. Food. Maps." He shrugged casually.
"Maybe a few rare tools here and there. That's all. I'm not here to rule this village. I don't want to blackmail you."
A long silence followed.
"You expect me to trust you?" the head asked, voice low.
"No," Kael replied immediately. "I expect you to find me useful. There's a difference."
And that was the perfect answer. The village head exhaled slowly, the way someone does when they realize they've just been checkmated by a chess piece they didn't know was on the board.
His hands relaxed, and the steel in his gaze shifted, just slightly, from confrontation to cautious calculation.
"You're dangerous," he said.
Kael nodded. "Only if I'm hungry. Or bored."
The village head was quiet for another moment, then something shifted in his expression. A flicker of something almost like relief.
"You know, it's funny," he said, his voice taking on a more conversational tone. "Most people who come through here asking questions, they're usually looking for something specific. But you…"
He studied Kael's face. "You seem to understand that sometimes the best way to protect what matters is to give people something else to chase."
Kael felt a small warning bell in his mind. There was something in the man's tone, a casualness that seemed almost too practiced.
"I'll tell you this," the village head continued, "the Sky Sword Sect isn't the only group that's been sniffing around lately. There have been others. Quiet ones.
The kind that don't announce themselves with flashy robes and loud proclamations." He paused, watching Kael's reaction carefully.
"Sometimes I wonder if what we're really dealing with here isn't just a simple theft gone wrong, but something much more… complicated."
The words hung in the air like a challenge. Kael's mind raced. The casual way the village head had dropped that information, the slight emphasis on 'complicated', the way he was watching for a reaction. This wasn't just conversation. This was a test.
"Complicated," Kael repeated slowly, his own voice carefully neutral. "That's an interesting word to use."
The village head nodded. "Isn't it? Makes you wonder who else might be playing this game. And what they're really after."
For the first time that night, Kael felt truly uncertain. The village head's words suggested layers to this situation that went far beyond what he'd initially calculated.
If there were other players, other agendas at work, then his neat little plan of manipulation might not be as foolproof as he'd thought.
The village head was indeed more cunning than he presented. He was gauging anf testing Kael on multiple levels with just this simple information!
He was a schemer!
"Fine," Kael said finally, his smile returning but with a sharper edge. "You have a deal. Let's do this."