The beggar's eyes lit up seeing Evan halt before him. "Milord! Milord! Please, spare some coin!"
"Here." Evan reached into his tunic, pulling out all the gold coins he carried for the Riding Lizard – roughly thirty – and poured them into the boy's outstretched hands.
The beggar stared, momentarily stunned. He saw only the profound innocence in Evan's deep black eyes. Something deep within him stirred briefly, but the gleam of gold quickly extinguished it.
"Th-thank you! Thank you, milord!" His hands trembled violently as he stuffed the coins into his rags with frantic speed, startling Evan with his sudden dexterity.
"Please, stand up. The ground is cold." Evan spoke gently, ignoring the grime on the boy's hands. He reached out, pulling the beggar to his feet. He noticed the boy's hands were surprisingly small but slender and delicate. As the beggar stood quickly, their bodies brushed momentarily. In that brief contact, while Evan steadied him with a firm grip, the beggar's nimble fingers performed a lightning-fast, concealed movement.
Evan smiled, a gentle warmth spreading through him. Helping others felt unexpectedly good. "Goodbye." He waved and walked into the slave market.
The beggar watched Evan disappear, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he darted in the opposite direction, vanishing into the crowded streets.
The slave market sprawled across seven sections. The outermost area traded low-grade commoner slaves – a healthy human might fetch fifty gold. The next section sold low-level Beasts. The remaining five sections, growing increasingly exclusive and expensive, housed more valuable goods. Only major cities boasted truly precious items, like Riding Drakes or Elven concubines.
Evan's first impression inside was overwhelming noise. Shouts, bartering, and animal cries assaulted his ears. The market was vast, chaotic. Where could he find Riding Lizards? Spotting a middle-aged man passing by, Evan approached him. "Sir, excuse me. Where can I buy a Riding Lizard?"
The man looked about forty. He wore finely crafted black leather armor adorned with a crest on his left chest: a sword and shield crossed, entwined by thorny vines. He was tall and powerfully built, nearly matching Zander's stature. A massive two-handed greatsword rested on his back.
"You want a Riding Lizard? I'm heading that way myself. I'll take you." The man offered readily, his voice hearty.
"Wonderful! Thank you, sir!" Evan replied politely. Years immersed in music had cultivated an innate elegance that, combined with his striking looks, made him instantly likable.
The man introduced himself as Garth as they walked deeper into the market. "What's your name, lad? Where are you from?"
"Evan Young. From Arcadia."
"Strange name. Ah, here we are!" Garth pointed towards a large, covered enclosure ahead.
Entering the Lizard pens, Evan recoiled at the pungent odor of dung and animal musk. Accustomed to the Emerald Canopy's pristine air, the foul stench was deeply unpleasant. Inside, dozens of Riding Lizards were corralled. Handlers haggled with potential buyers.
Garth seemed familiar with this environment. "Roll City's market isn't much. Bigger cities have huge stables, hundreds of lizards to choose from." He gestured towards a handler he recognized. "Hart! Garth here! Got a mission? Need twenty sturdy lizards. Pick one for this lad too."
Hart, the handler, grinned and swiftly selected twenty-one lizards. Garth, clearly a regular customer, didn't inspect them closely. He pulled a coin pouch from his tunic. "Usual rate: five gold for two. That's fifty." He tossed the pouch to Hart.
Hart pocketed it without counting. "No need! Trust the Thorn Iron Mercenary Band! Roll City's finest!" He gestured towards the lizards.
Garth chuckled ruefully, "Finest? Wish we could afford a bigger city. No strength, no foothold. Right, lad?" He turned to Evan. "Hart here gives me a good price. For your sake, he'll charge just two gold. Pick one you like from this lot. Hart's lizards might not be top-tier, but their stamina is reliable."
Evan, realizing Garth had negotiated a discount, felt a pang of embarrassment. His gold was gone. Instinctively, he reached mentally towards his Spatial Ring to retrieve coins. His hands came up empty. Only the indentation on his ring finger remained.
"My Spatial Ring! It's gone!" Panic surged through Evan, colder and sharper than any he'd felt before. The Spatial Ring itself was valuable, but infinitely more precious were the five legendary zithers inside! Along with Quentin's letter of introduction and his remaining funds – all gone!
"Lad, what's wrong?" Garth asked, startled by Evan's sudden distress.
Evan didn't answer. A cold glint flashed in his deep black eyes. He closed them. A faint crimson aura emanated from his brow, forming a dim red magic hexagram before him.