Run: 2026-02-22-01KJ36PTZ2SSB2MXAE9WFQFPZE

*This passage is already present tense!* Elena walks through the square, her satchel held tightly to her chest. Her eyes search the crowd, looking for Gregor's cramped stall. She knows the merchant won't wait — he never waits for anyone, least of all a girl from the outer ring. The market square buzzes with noise. Hundreds of voices intermingle as people shout to each other from stall to stall, haggling over goods. merchants, dozens of them, call out prices, supplicate customers, yet never compromise on the true value of an item. Pushing through, Elena spots the familiar shape of her client and heads toward him. Twitching slightly, Gregor remains utterly focused on his ledger. He runs a finger down the long columns of numbers, frequently frowning. This time, Elena believes the task from him involves a blue crystal, untouched by human hands, with no pungent oder. Her customers, they Ottoman International traders, value purity - but only in specific rocks. Elena sets the wrapped package on the wooden counter. "The bridge was out. I had to take the long way around." "Not my problem," Gregor says curtly. "I don't pay for extra distance." He unwraps the cloth bundle and lifts out a sparkling crystal specimen as big as her fist. It glints in the sunlight streaming through gaps in the tent's canvas roof. "This isn't the cut," Gregor says incredulously. "It's exactly what you ordered - ]" Elena starts, stopping as he holds up a hand to silence her. He turns the quartz slowly, inspecting its flaws and edges. "My cut must be larger than before, since the other angle is only a small circle," Gregor states. Elena stares at him, unsure how to respond to such a peculiar lie. He holds the quartz at arm's length, peering at it through one eye like a jeweler examining a defect. "Look, Gregor," she says calmly, "this is what I bought from [the northern mine] trader for the right price. I guarantee the rock wasn't cut elsewhere. Trust me, this is Blue Quartz." Gregor sighs. "Well then, wrap it better next time." Retrieving a small leather pouch, he slides it toward her. The pouch clinks when she opens it. Elena picks up the pouch and weighs it in her hand. Several coins clink together inside. She looks into the bag - only two silver crowns. "Gregor," she says sternly, "our agreement stated ten coins." "The bridge cost went up. Take it or leave it," he says flatly. Elena frowns. She feels anger at his insult to call it a "tolerable price" for the quartz. Still, not wanting to upset the feast table family by returning so soon, she reluctantly takes what Gregor offers. Elena walks out of the concourse and heads toward her shop. The sun nods off, and long shadows cover half the street. She slips the leather pouch into her satchel and hurries, hoping to reach ground zero before sunset. How sad, this daily cycle — interacting with unsympathetic men who act, yet never accept - always complaining, even when giving an impossible task. Like Gregor and his greedy Ottoman merchants. But still, Elena has an alternative. Her Uncle utilizes amazing technology that allows her to travel to a remote Cathedral. The trailer ends with a voice questioning her decision. "Should I go?"