Run: 2026-05-27-01KSMF3XF5VRVF3RNZESPCM2PH

I push through the crowd, my satchel clutched tightly against my chest as I weave through the bustling market square. A hundred voices buzz and murmur around me, but I barely hear them. My mind isfixed on getting to Gregor's stall in time. He won't wait, not for anyone, especially not for a girl from the outer ring. "You're late," Gregor says as I approach, not bothering to glance up from his ledger. A thick finger runs down a column of numbers, and his brow furrows. I set the package on the counter. "The bridge was out. I had to take the long way around." "Should have planned better," he grunts. Gregor unwraps the cloth and holds the crystal up, catching the sunlight. It sparkles and sends little rainbows dancing across the canvas roof of his stall. He turns it over, examining each facet. Double-checking, like I knew he would. "What's the issue?" I ask. I know there's going to be one, even though I made sure to follow his instructions to a T. "This isn't what I ordered," he says flatly. "It is," I insist, not backing down, "Blue quartz, uncut, straight from the northern mines. I watched them pull it from the rock myself." He twists the crystal back and forth, holding it up to his eye before stretching it out at arm's length. He looks like a jeweler appraising a diamond, which he isn't, lest anyone forget. Gregor's in plenty of other things. Sighing, he sets it down. "Fine. But next time, wrap it better. The edges need to be covered." He reaches under the counter, pulls out a small leather pouch, and slides it my way. The coins inside jingle as it lands. I scoop it up and weigh it in my palm. Feels light. Loosening the drawstring, I count: eight silver crowns. We'd agreed on ten. "We agreed on ten," I point out. "That was before the bridge fee went up." Gregor smiles — a thin, practiced thing that never touches his eyes. "Take it or leave it." I take it, like always. The outer ring doesn't offer much in the way of choices, and Gregor knows that as well as I do. I walk out of the market and into the narrow lanes beyond, leaving the cheerful chatter of the square behind. The sun hangs low over the rooftops, and the shadows stretch long across the cobblestones. I slip the pouch into my satchel and pick up my pace. If I hurry, I should reach the bridge before dark.