Run: 2026-02-22-01KJ3381X4M3AT0H4MRQYWSZ3K

The market square buzzed with the sound of a hundred voices. Elena pushed through the crowd, her satchel clutched against her chest. She knew the merchant would not wait — he never waited for anyone, least of all a girl from the outer ring. "You're late," Gregor muttered, not lifting his gaze from the ledger. A thick finger traced down a column of numbers; his brow creased. Elena dropped the package onto the counter. "The bridge was out. I had to take the long way around." "Not my problem." He peeled back the cloth and raised the crystal to the light. It caught the sun, scattering tiny rainbows across the stall’s canvas roof. Gregor’s frown deepened. "This isn’t what I ordered." She had expected this. The old man always found something to grumble about, whether the goods were perfect or not. Elena folded her arms and held her ground. "It's exactly what you ordered," she insisted. "Blue quartz, uncut, from the northern mines. I watched them pull it from the rock myself." Gregor turned the crystal slowly, studying each facet. He brought it close to one eye, then extended his arm to view it from a distance. To Elena, he looked like a jeweler appraising a diamond, though Gregor dealt in stranger things than jewelry. With a sigh, he set the crystal down. "Fine. But next time, wrap it properly. The edges are exposed." He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small leather pouch. Coins clinked faintly as he pushed it across the wood toward her. Elena snatched up the pouch and tested its weight in her palm. Too light. She tugged the drawstring open and counted: eight silver crowns. They had agreed on ten. "We agreed on ten," she stated, voice flat. "That was before the bridge fee went up." Gregor offered a smile — thin, practiced, never touching his eyes. "Take it or leave it." She pocketed it. She always did. The outer ring didn’t offer many choices, and Gregor knew that as well as she did. Elena stepped out of the market and into the narrow lanes beyond. The sun hung low over the rooftops, stretching long shadows across the cobblestones. She slipped the pouch into her satchel and picked up her pace. If she hurried, she would reach the bridge before dark.