Run: 2026-02-22-01KJ37GK1101FMSPWNSZ8Q4ETZ

The market square bustled with the chatter of a hundred people. Mirabel navigated the sea of bodies, her bag held tightly to her torso. She was aware that the trader would not linger for her — he never lingered, especially not for a girl from the outskirts of the city. "You're tardy," Aldric grumbled, eyes unwavering from his record book. He dragged his bulbous digit down a row of figures and scowled. Mirabel laid the bundle on the table. "I detoured; the bridge was out." "That's not my concern." He unwrapped the fabric and held the gem to the sunlight. It danced with rainbow reflections off the sunbeams, illuminating the canvas stall covering. Aldric's furrow deepened. "This isn't the item I requested." She wasn't surprised by this declaration. The elderly man perpetually found fault, regardless of the items' condition. Mirabel defiantly crossed her arms. "It matches your order precisely," she asserted. "Raw lapis lazuli from the northern mines. I witnessed its extraction." Aldric methodically rotated the crystal, inspecting every angle. He brought it close to scrutinise it before setting it down. Mirabel thought he resembled a gemologist assessing a precious stone, though Aldric's trade delved into peculiar realms beyond jewellery. He exhaled and acquiesced, "Alright, but next time, ensure it's properly wrapped. The edges are unprotected." He delved beneath the counter, producing a diminutive leather purse, the coins within clinking as he pushed it towards her. Mirabel grabbed the pouch, its lightness palpable in her grip. She untied the cord and counted: eight silver pieces. Ten had been the agreed-upon price. "Ten was the agreement," she stated flatly. "Well," Aldric replied with a feigned smile that didn't touch his eyes, "the toll has risen since we last spoke. You can accept or refuse." She accepted. She always did. Where she lived, choices were scarce, a fact Aldric understood as well as she did. Mirabel departed the market, striding into the cramped alleyways beyond. The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets. She nestled the pouch into her satchel and hastened her steps. If she hurried, she would traverse the bridge before nightfall.