Bling, Bling Money
As Loki and Zephyr navigated the throngs of people, their conversation flowed easily. The initial shock of encountering a playful goddess had subsided, replaced by a tentative camaraderie.
Suddenly, Loki's ruby eyes flickered towards Zephyr's side. A magnificent black stallion, muscles rippling beneath its sleek coat, followed them faithfully a few paces behind.
Noir, sensing her attention, let out a haughty puff of air, clearly displeased with the earlier lack of recognition.
Zephyr was lost in thought. 'How does she see when her eyes are always closed..? Strange...'
Loki's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "By the way," she asked, her voice laced with amusement, "what's your name?"
The question broke Zephyr out of his stupor. "Zephyr," he replied, his voice firm with confidence. "Zephyr Bladehart."
"Hmm, Zephyr Bladehart," the goddess hummed, a playful glint lingering in her eyes as she rolled his name on her tongue. "An interesting name for an interesting adventurer."
Her gaze then shifted to the magnificent stallion. "Well then, Zephyr," she continued, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, "care to explain what that thing is?"
Noir, clearly offended by her flippant remark, snorted and tossed his head, his dark mane rippling like a storm cloud.
Zephyr chuckled, relief washing over him as the conversation shifted. "His name is Noir," he replied, reaching out to pat the stallion's glossy mane. "He's my loyal steed, and a very important part of my journey."
Loki's gaze remained fixed on Noir, her playful demeanor masking a spark of curiosity. A stallion of such size and presence was certainly a rare sight in Orario.
"A loyal steed, you say?" she mused, her voice thoughtful. "Perhaps he'll prove to be a valuable asset to the Loki Familia as well. After all, we could always use a little extra muscle on our expeditions."
Zephyr chuckled "I don't think he would do well in the Dungeon, but yes. He could carry 10 carriages if he wanted to." [A/N: Noir will remember those words.]
The rhythmic clip-clop of Noir's hooves faded behind Zephyr as he reached the pawnshop door. He pushed it open, the shop bell announcing his arrival with a cheerful jingle.
Inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of aged leather and polished metal. Display cases crammed with an eclectic mix of trinkets and other miscellaneous items lined the walls, casting long, flickering shadows under the dim magic stone powered lamps.
Behind the counter stood a wizened old man, his beard like a tangled nest of white hair and his eyes magnified by a pair of thick spectacles perched precariously on his nose. He looked up from a ledger as the bell chimed, his gaze landing on Zephyr with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
"Oh, hello there young lad," the man rasped, his voice like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "Are you looking to buy or sell?"
"I'm here to sell," Zephyr replied, his voice firm despite the fluttering in his stomach. This was it – the moment of truth.
He reached into his satchel and retrieved the pouch containing his collection of gems. The weight of the pouch felt significant in his hand, a silent testament to his months of exploration. With a resolute nod, he placed it on the counter, the leather thudding softly against the worn wood.
The old man's eyes widened as the pouch landed, his curiosity piqued. He leaned forward, his spectacles slipping precariously down his nose, and untied the drawstring with nimble, gnarled fingers.
A gasp escaped his lips as the contents spilled out onto the counter. A cascade of semi-precious stones tumbled forth, each one a testament to Zephyr's journey – a fiery opal, a deep amethyst, an emerald the color of a spring forest.
But it was the final stone that truly stole the show. Nestled amidst the other gems lay the magnificent diamond, its brilliance cutting through the dim light of the shop. It shimmered like a captured star, dwarfing the other stones with its size and purity.
The old man's breath hitched. He stared at the diamond, his eyes wide with awe and surprised.
The old man, his glasses dangling precariously from one ear, gaped at the diamond. His weathered face, usually etched with a cynical smile, was now a mask of stunned awe.
"Five million valis," he finally croaked, his voice hoarse with emotion. "For the diamond. Not a single vali less."
Zephyr blinked, his initial confidence replaced by a surge of surprise. Five million valis? That was a sum greater than he'd ever imagined his little collection could fetch. It was enough to secure him a decent place to live, gear himself up for the Dungeon, and maybe even start saving for some serious training.
"Huh?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Five million? Are you sure?"
The old man, as if jolted from a trance, snapped back to his usual demeanor. He cleared his throat, his gaze hardening.
"Not enough?! Then what about 6.5 million!" he barked, his voice surprisingly strong for his frail frame. He leaned forward, his face thrust inches from Zephyr's, the magnified lenses of his spectacles creating a comical effect.
"No, no, five million is fine!" Zephyr stammered back, surprised by the man's sudden aggression.
"Still not enough?!" the old man roared, his voice cracking with a bizarre mix of excitement and desperation. He leaned even closer, his breath carrying the faint scent of pipe tobacco.
"Like I said—" Zephyr began, but before he could finish his sentence, the old man cut him off once again.
"10 million!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the cluttered shop. "10 million valis, and it's a deal!"
Zephyr felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. The man's erratic behavior was starting to unnerve him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the old man was on a roll.
"Fifteen million valis!" he shrieked, his voice bordering on hysterical. "Final offer!"
He reached out a gnarled hand, his fingers trembling with anticipation, as if waiting for Zephyr to slam it down and seal the deal.
Zephyr, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, held up a hand, halting the old man's frantic movements. "Wait, wait!" he exclaimed, his voice firm despite the pounding in his chest. "Five million was more than enou-!
——————
Zephyr stared at the bulging bag of valis thrust into his hand, the leather cool against his skin. Fifteen million valis. The weight of the bag wasn't just from the coins; it was the weight of disbelief settling into his gut.
The old man's frantic offer, the sudden dismissal – it all played back in his mind like a scene from a dream. He glanced down at the pouch of semi-precious stones abandoned on the doorstep, a silent testament to the pawnbroker's sudden shift in focus.
"What the hell just happened...?" His voice, barely a whisper, echoed in the empty street.
A part of him wanted to run back in, to demand answers, to understand why the man had thrown a fortune at him. But another, more cautious part, held him back.
Fifteen million valis. It was life-changing money, enough to buy a house in Orario, enough to equip himself with some fine gear, enough to…
He stopped the spiral of possibilities. Something about the entire encounter felt…off. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd stumbled into something bigger than a simple pawn shop transaction.
Looking down at the bag of coins again, a flicker of worry replaced the initial shock. This kind of wealth could attract unwanted attention. He needed to get away, to find Loki and figure out his next move.
With a deep breath, Zephyr tucked the bag of valis securely inside his cloak. A quick glance around the deserted street confirmed he was alone. He cast a final, lingering look at the closed door of the pawn shop, the silence holding the weight of unanswered questions.
Then, with a newfound urgency in his stride, he turned and headed back towards the bustling marketplace, towards Loki and Noir.
As Zephyr hurried alongside Loki and Noir, his steps grew heavier with each passing moment. He clutched the bag of valis beneath his cloak, the weight a constant reminder of the bizarre encounter at the pawn shop. He stole glances around them, making sure nobody was close to them.
"So, how much did you get from the magic-less trinkets?" Loki's voice, laced with amusement, sliced through his worry.
Zephyr flinched, his head snapping towards her. Her ruby eyes behind her always closed eye lids twinkled with curiosity, clearly picking up on his nervous energy. He cast another furtive look around, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned closer.
"Fifteen million valis," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.
The effect was instantaneous. Loki's playful grin faltered, replaced by a look of wide-eyed surprise. Her crimson eyes widened, comically large for a fleeting moment, before a glint of something akin to avarice flickered within them.
"Fifteen million?!" she hissed back, her voice barely above a whisper. 'He only sold precious gems!'
Zephyr winced. Perhaps revealing the sum had been a mistake. He watched in trepidation as Loki's eyes darted around, her gaze lingering for a moment on the bulging pouch beneath his cloak. For a heart-stopping second, he thought she might snatch it herself.
But then, as quickly as it appeared, the avarice vanished. A sly smile played on her lips, and she leaned in conspiratorially.
"Hide that," she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of cunningness. "Not everyone in Orario is as trustworthy as the great Loki."
Zephyr gazed at her with a skeptical look. Surely she wouldn't secretly use his money for something useless like alcohol, right..?
Noir, watched the Human, Goddess duo as if they were an unusual bunch, the steed was weirded out from their interaction.
The Trio quickened their pace, with Loki in the front. They wanted to get to their destination with swiftness.
Onward, to The Twilight Manor. The Loki Familia's base, and Zephyr's soon to be home.
———[Chapter End]———
A/N: I don't see any fanfic author going for the Sword Oratoria route in their Danmachi fics, so I'm going to add it into mine.