The first thing that was apparent as they entered the market place was that Avalyn turned heads. He assumed that it was because of her strange beauty. Avalyn didn't seem to notice or care of the people's stares however, just regarded everything around her with caution.
"Why do you want these potions so badly? What do they do?"
He pretended not to hear her—not wanting to explain his desperate desire to grow facial hair. He just reasoned that he couldn't consider himself a man until he had a beard or other manner of whiskers growing on his chin.
Avalyn did not repeat her question, instead she stopped walking, and they caught a delicious smell.
Both the young lord and the girl with green eyes found the origin of the smell at a vendor's stand—and they looked upon a spread of baked goods.
"What will you have Dearies?" the lady behind the stand asked cheerfully.
"I want those tarts," Avalyn pointed at a row of about eight. They were dainty-looking pastries filled with what looked like raspberries or strawberries.
"They be a singsong a piece."
Jaythen was about to tell Avalyn, he could offer gold coin instead but Avalyn went ahead and opened her mouth and started to singsong a short folk lullaby that he recognized for his nursemaid had sung to him when he was younger. He wondered if she had lied to him about singing in front of people, or perhaps she was so desperate to eat that she didn't care anymore.
The lady hurriedly opened a jar and held it out near Avalyn's head, seeming to try and catch the singsong. Jaythen watched in a puzzled manner all the while. Avalyn sang seven more little nursery tales that were commonly heard and the lady opened seven more jars for each singsong.
"Those are a lovely quality, go ahead and take an extra for your pretty boy there!" The lady gathered up the ones Avalyn wasn't stuffing in her mouth and put them in a kerchief for her. Avalyn held one out for Jaythen, which he took quickly in fear she would eat it as soon as she was done chewing the one currently in her mouth. She must have not yet had the chance to hunt for herself since the night before and was growing ravenous.
He swallowed his own tart in one bite, since it was so small. They began to walk further through the market.
"I wonder what use or value the songs are to these traders?"
Avalyn shrugged between stuffing her mouth with tarts, "I have no idea but it is worlds easier to come by than gold."
Jaythen spotted the potion apothecary from before through the crowd and grabbed Avalyn's wrist, hurrying them over to see if the hair growth potion was still available.
"Sir! Sir! I have returned! Does your offer still stand? Is the product still here?" he asked eagerly.
The old man grinned, "Why yes, you're lucky—hair growth potion is a fast seller."
Avalyn stopped crunching on a tart, hearing those words and stared at Jaythen incredulously.
"Har grof pochin?" A tart was still in her mouth and obscured her speech; tiny bits fell out of her mouth as she spoke. He would have openly laughed at her if he weren't depending on her to sing.
"There are others," He avoided the subject and pointed at the rest of the set.
She rolled her eyes and swallowed, running her tongue over her teeth to rid them of sticky, berry filling, "You want me to sing for hair growth potion? You have hair Jaythen!"
"But I can't grow it on my face!"
"Why would you want that? It seems itchy, unruly, and hot."
"I just need this. You could never understand," He raised his brows in sheer pleading. The apothecary cackled out in amusement at their banter.
She wiped her hands together to rid them of crumbles and straightened up, "Very well, I do not understand your silly boyish obsession but nonetheless, you will owe me a favor in return."
He sighed in respite and she closed her eyes, starting a song. He enjoyed hearing her and noticed that many people stopped in awe at her sweet tone. The apothecary gave them looks that told them if they tried to steal her song, he would force-feed them the vilest of concoctions. When she was finished with the first she stopped.
"Oh, you can put them all in this one," the apothecary smiled pointing to the jar he was already holding. She shrugged and started another, and then a next one.
There was a considerable amount of market goers that had stopped around them to just hear Avalyn sing, not even taking out their own jars and trying to contain it.
"So, that's three songs. May I have the potions now?"
The apothecary brought the set forward, "These potions only have enough use for one person, and for the desired affect, one must drink every drop or else it won't do anything."
"They will work though, right?" The thought of credibility had just entered his head. He was buying magic potions from a market in Scharberlutes after all—quite a shaded affair to anyone inside the King's realm.
The apothecary twisted his lips in offense, "What kind of man do you take me to be? Of course my goods will work!"
Jaythen held out his hands to calm the man. He grabbed up the holder. Which folded into a sort of knapsack, conveniently. He dug through it, clinking the glass vials together before finding a blue colored potion with the 'hair growth' label tied to a string around the neck of it.
"I'm hungry," Avalyn sighed.
"You just ate though," He pointed out.
"Eight tarts are nothing close to a full deer," her tone was annoyed, which he became nervous at.
He put the vial back into the knapsack and took her arm, "Alright, let's find you something more fulfilling then. They say this is a market you can find anything in." He threw the sack over his shoulder and led her through the crowd, looking for food. They must have been in a weapons section of the market for all the tables were filled with bows, arrows, knives, swords and other manners of objects used to hunt or kill.
Avalyn stumbled into him suddenly. He looked to her and she was holding her head as if it ached.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know. There is something in the air that irritates my senses—but I don't know what."
He let her arm go, "I'll find you something to eat. Stay here and don't move around too much."
He wandered away but only got as far as one of the sword vendors, distracted at the fine weapons. He had been taught to sword fight while in the imperial City—although he didn't own a sword of his own.
"Ya take an interest in weapons laddie?"
"I'm admiring your swords—" He brushed his fingers over a matte steel short sword.
"What are ye planning to kill exactly?"
"Nothing really. I don't find pleasure in killing things—only out of need to protect myself."
"A sword like that won't protect you from everything," the vendor nodded to the sword Jaythen was touching. Jaythen knotted his eyebrows in confusion and turned his stare to the man.
"I'm sure if it is handled right—"
"The fey creatures don't fear a paltry steel weapon, boy—you need something of iron to protect yourself from the likes of them." The man leaned forward and said with a hint of warning.
"Why iron?"
"Iron poisons fey."
"Still, I doubt I will have any quarrels with a creature of fey—they are not to be seen anymore."
"Oh they are around, mark me. They could be in this very market. They be a slippery bunch and if you kill one, you can retire from life for each part of their body is drenched in magic and every witch, apothecary, and merchant in this area and in the realm would pay an exorbitant amount of wealth to get their hands on a piece."
Jaythen considered the man's words, not having known so much about fey or their value. He nodded politely and took leave without a sword—he couldn't afford one any way. He turned around to see Avalyn and saw she was talking with someone, their back was toward him.
He backtracked a few steps to see what was happening. Talking to a stranger in Scharberlutes was probably not a good idea.
"You have the loveliest singing voice I have ever heard at this market."
The speaker was a man, older—probably about Halden's age or some more. He had his arms crossed so that his back full of muscle was evident to those looking.
"That's very kind of you," Avalyn smiled politely, but still held her head in her hands from irritation.
"You also, are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen at this market," he reached up and dared stroke the side of her face. She tensed and Jaythen inwardly gagged at this fellow's attempt to flirt. Avalyn quickly caught his hand in a fast grip, apparently not taking well to his touch.
"Thank you. Those are kind words as well, Sir. Now if you will excuse me I shall continue on my way." She brushed past him and Jaythen took her arm once more.
"Food?" She raised a brow; and upon seeing he had none became annoyed that he had not gotten any for her.
The fellow scoffed at once, seeing her leave with the young lord, "You deny me for this whelp? Such a lass as you deserves a real man."
Jaythen whirled around angrily, "You think me not a man? How dare you!"
Avalyn held his arm tightly, to keep him from making a mistake.
The fellow only grinned, "Aye, me and my men could chop you into little bits before you had time to grow a proper beard."
Jaythen's rage smoldered, knowing he was right in buying that hair growth potion, but he heeded the comment and he glanced down at the fellow's feet.
Black boots.
Avalyn saw Jaythen's concern and pulled him away. They left the fellow in a run, and they dodged through the crowd of market-goers to get away. He called for his men though, a shrill whistle heard above the heads of everyone. Avalyn kept her attention ahead and Jaythen watched the feet of those they were running through. He saw black boots and a pair of rough hands caught him by the straps in his vest. He shouted, as Avalyn's grip slid away but she turned quickly, threw back her arm in a fist and punched the man holding the young lord, in the side of his face. She was hungry, she was annoyed, and she was in the mood to be violent. The man staggered and she took hold of Jaythen's arm once more, "Hurry up!"
The bandits with black boots must have been numerous in the market because many were pursuing them, but always out of reach for the thick crowd delayed their advances.
Avalyn dug her feet into the ground to stop herself from being grabbed, for there was a bandit just in front of her. Jaythen pulled her then, into another direction for there was a bandit just behind him. It seemed they were closing in.
"Move! Move out of the way!" Jaythen shouted in desperation. The people in front of him tried their best but it was clearly too dense to be caught up in a chase at the market. In desperation, Jaythen grabbed a sword out of its holder next to a vendor, in order to protect them. He spun, and in that motion threw the girl with green eyes behind him and pointed the sharp sword at anyone trying to advance. It was the fellow who came upon them, and after a moment of surprise drew his own sword and began to clash it against Jaythen's. After a few moments of fight, the fellow bested Jaythen, clattered his sword heavily over the young lord's and kept it down. He was very ready to strike the lad dead.
"Stop!" Avalyn shouted, stepping forward. Jaythen withdrew his sword, in fear of accidentally striking her. The bandit kept his drawn and it was dangerously pointed under her jaw, just like Jaythen's dagger the first moment he had met her. Her eyes were unwavering, burning in frustration as she stared at the bandit, "Lower your sword, Sir."
"You dare order me? I am the great-great-great-great grandson of Scharber Lutes, the great grandson of Rebbis Lutes—founder of the bandits who wear black boots. I am Schar Lutes—" He tightened his grip on his sword's handle, "No one gives me orders."
His group of bandits had reached them and surrounded them. There was no way they were going to get through alive. Avalyn's stone face twitched into an unexpected smile, which surprised both men on either side of her.
She reached up and unclasped her necklace, throwing it to Jaythen who caught it with a look of puzzlement. She turned around, indicating the fellow should untie the laces of her bodice. He looked as if he were mistaken but then acquired a sly smile and happily obliged. She stared at Jaythen while her garment became loose under the fellow's fingers. Jaythen shook his head in bewilderment at her, but she told him nothing, not even with her eyes. A moment ago the bandit was going to kill them and now she was letting him undress her!
Now, more than ever before, Jaythen did not understand her.
She pulled away from the fellow, unwrapping herself from her garment slowly, twisting out of the dress—which she also threw to Jaythen when she was free of it. He knew then that if she did have modesty then she would not have been standing bare in front of so many men. She was puzzling and yet gorgeous, hard to look away from. He shook his head, inwardly chiding himself for doing so though. In order to not be further distracted he looked at anywhere but at her.
All the men around him had their attentions very preoccupied with her though; all their weapons were lowered and their mouths were slack with dumbstruck smiles. He sighed and shoved her dress into the knapsack, wondering why she was giving the bandits who wore black boots such a good show before death—unless the one to die was just he. Perhaps she was saving herself from being killed—they could use her—although the thought of all those men with her made him feel nauseous, and overwhelmingly angry.
He felt something small hit him and protested before looking at his feet where he saw her ring. He picked it up and brushed it off—was this it? Was she leaving and letting him to perish at the hands of the treacherous bandits? Had he annoyed her so much that she didn't care either way?
Suddenly there was a change in the vicinity—a heart stopping noise followed by a rush of wind, which could have only been one thing.
She turned dragon, he looked up just in time to see a talon engulf him. He clutched the sword to his chest and the ring in his palm and he was lifted and there were hundreds of terrified screams below. Avalyn beat her wings heavily, getting the most out of the air—pushing away from the market in fast flight.
After letting his heart settle, and praying in thanks to still being alive, he looked up at the golden dragon and couldn't help but to laugh silently, well-done, sly girl. Your distraction saved us both.
---
Evening started to bleed into the light of the sky, drenching it in darker hues of pink, purple, blue, and black. He started to feel moisture droplets hit him from above—it was starting to rain. Avalyn lowered into a wooded area, where she let him off to steady ground. She did not transform, instead her long dragon body curled up around him. One of her wings unfolded and covered over his head, so the rain hit it and slid off, keeping him dry—it was like being inside a large tent.
He figured she meant for them to stay like that until it finished raining. He had grown quite tired and he was starving—only having eaten a tart so far since the dinner the night before. He sunk to the ground that was dry, only because of her overhead wing, and lay against the dragon's side. She was surprisingly warm. He always thought such a hide on a creature looked cold and uninviting. He adjusted his cloak so it was in front of him—covering him in a makeshift blanket. He could hear her heart beating through her scaled body. It was steady and it eased his troubled mind. She had saved him again, and for that he was grateful. He blinked a couple times before nodding off to sleep, listening to the rhythm of great creature's heartbeat.