Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8WKX0DBBAHSXRGSD9TEFY2

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 grunted, without looking up from his ledger, a thick finger running down a column of numbers while a frown creased his brow. Elena rested the package on the counter. "The bridge was out. I had to take the long way around." "Not my problem." He pulled away the cloth and lifted the crystal to the sunlight. Tiny rainbows danced across the stall's canvas roof. His brow tightened once more. "This isn't what I ordered." She had expected this; the old man always found something to complain about, goods perfect or flawed. With arms folded, Elena 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 rotated the crystal inch by inch, studying each facet until he leaned in close, then held it at arm's length. He looked for all the world like a jeweler inspecting a diamond, though he traded in far stranger wares. The crystal clinked as he returned it to the counter with a sigh. "Fine. But next time, wrap it properly. The edges are exposed." His hand vanished beneath the boards and emerged holding a small leather pouch. Coins shifted inside with a soft clink as it slid toward her. Elena scooped up the pouch and tested its weight across her palm. Too light. She drew the string open and counted aloud: eight silver crowns. They had settled on ten. "We agreed on ten," she repeated, flat. "That was before the bridge fee went up." Gregor's mouth stretched into a thin, rehearsed smile that stayed in his lips alone. "Take it or leave it." She took it. She always took it. The outer ring offered few alternatives, and Gregor understood that fact as clearly as anyone. Elena stepped from the market into the winding lanes. Sunlight hung low over the rooftops, shadows lengthening across the stones beneath her feet. She tucked the pouch away in her satchel and lengthened her stride. If she hastened now, she would just reach the bridge before dark fell.