In Eragon as a Mage

The market buzzed with life, a cacophony of voices rising and falling in a constant rhythm. Merchants called out to passersby, urging them to buy freshly baked bread, shining trinkets, or sturdy tools. The smell of roasted meat and sweet honey lingered in the air, making Leo's stomach growl faintly. But he wasn't hungry; his thoughts were elsewhere.

His coin pouch rested at his side, a small fortune earned from the hard work of the past year. As he wandered through the market, his eyes lingered on a stall offering arrowheads and tools before moving to another with finely woven leather. He was debating whether to buy a knife when a familiar, faint whisper brushed against his mind.

"Go. Look. Find it."

Leo froze. The whisper came again, sharper this time. "You must go. Quickly."

The Compendium rarely spoke to him unless it deemed something important. Adjusting his satchel, he let the unseen tug guide him through the crowded market. He moved past stalls brimming with dried herbs, bolts of cloth, and polished trinkets, weaving through the throng of people until he reached the far edge of the market.

There, tucked away beneath the shadow of an overhanging tree, sat a crooked cart. Its merchant, an old man with wiry gray hair and a sly glint in his eye, lounged lazily against the side of his wares. The stall looked unimpressive at first glance, its contents a haphazard collection of tarnished tools, chipped pottery, and worn leather straps.

But Leo's eyes were drawn to a necklace lying among the clutter. The pendant, dark and oddly shaped, seemed to shimmer faintly as if alive. Its etchings were intricate and almost hypnotic, twisting in ways that defied logic. At its center was a small, blood-red stone that glimmered faintly, catching the fading light of the day.

The Compendium's whisper became frantic. "That is it. You must have it."

Leo's breath hitched. He stepped forward, trying to appear calm. "How much for this necklace?" he asked, pointing at the pendant.

The merchant glanced at the necklace and shrugged. "That old thing? Found it in a chest years ago. Don't know what it's worth—might just be junk. I'll let it go for… six silver."

Leo frowned. Six silver was steep, even for something unusual like this. "Six silver? For a rusty old trinket?" he said, feigning disinterest.

The merchant smirked. "Rusty, maybe, but it's still unique. You won't find another like it."

Leo shook his head, his instincts as a hunter kicking in. He knew better than to take the first price. "Unique doesn't mean valuable. Look at it—it's worn and scratched. I'll give you two silver."

The merchant let out a bark of laughter. "Two silver? For this craftsmanship? You insult me, boy. Five silver, and I'm being generous."

Leo crossed his arms, holding his ground. "Four. I'll give you four silver, and that's only because I'm curious about it."

The old man squinted at him, clearly weighing his options. After a moment, he sighed. "Fine. Four silver, but you're robbing me blind."

Leo handed over the coins, careful to keep his excitement hidden. The merchant handed him the necklace, and as soon as it touched his fingers, a strange warmth spread through him. The whispers from the Compendium immediately fell silent, leaving an eerie stillness in his mind.

"Pleasure doing business," the merchant said, already turning his attention to another customer.

Leo slipped the necklace into his satchel alongside the Compendium, its weight pressing against his side like a secret. As he walked back toward his father's stall, questions swirled in his mind. What was this necklace? Why had the Compendium been so desperate for him to have it?

He resolved to find out later, once they were back home. For now, he had to focus on the rest of the day's work—and act as though nothing had changed.

The sun hung low in the sky as Leo made his way back through the bustling market. His satchel bumped against his side with every step, the newly acquired necklace resting heavily within. Its weight felt disproportionate to its size, as though it carried more than just metal and stone. But that was a mystery for another time.

As he approached his father's stall, the familiar sight of neatly stacked pelts and furs greeted him. His father stood behind the wooden counter, deep in conversation with a customer over a thick wolf pelt.

"Three silvers for a pelt this fine?" his father said, raising an eyebrow. "I'd be robbing myself blind."

The customer chuckled. "You've always driven a hard bargain, Arlen. Four silvers, and you've got a deal."

"Done," his father replied, shaking the man's hand before tucking the coins into a pouch at his side. As the customer walked away with his purchase, Arlen noticed Leo approaching and waved him over.

"There you are, boy," his father said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Find anything worthwhile in the market?"

Leo hesitated, his hand brushing against the satchel. He considered telling his father about the necklace, but something held him back. Perhaps it was the Compendium's earlier silence, or perhaps he simply didn't know how to explain why he'd bought it. Instead, he shrugged.

"Just some odds and ends. Nothing too exciting," Leo said, keeping his tone casual.

Arlen raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, we've had a good day so far. If things keep up, we might finish early tomorrow."

Before Leo could respond, a familiar voice called out from nearby.

"Leo!"

Turning, he saw Eragon jogging toward him, a wide grin on his face. The younger boy was carrying a crude bow, its string looking barely strong enough to hold an arrow.

"Eragon," Leo greeted, a smile tugging at his lips. "What are you up to?"

"Just wandering the market," Eragon said, stopping to catch his breath. "Roran's helping Garrow with repairs back at the farm, so I thought I'd come see what was happening in town."

Leo glanced at the bow in Eragon's hands and smirked. "Still using that thing?"

Eragon flushed slightly, holding up the bow defensively. "It works well enough."

"For now," Leo said, crossing his arms. "But you'll want something sturdier if you're serious about hunting. You should talk to Horst. He might have some better materials for you."

Eragon grinned sheepishly. "Maybe I will—when I've got more coin."

Arlen cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Leo, you've got customers," he said, nodding toward a couple examining a stack of furs.

"Right," Leo said. He turned back to Eragon. "Meet me later. I'll show you a few tricks to make that bow of yours a little more reliable."

Eragon's face lit up. "Really?"

"Of course," Leo said with a shrug. "You'll need all the help you can get."

Eragon laughed and waved as he walked off, disappearing back into the crowd.

Leo returned to his father's side, helping him answer questions and negotiate prices with the occasional customer. All the while, his mind kept drifting back to the necklace in his satchel and the Compendium's earlier whispers.

Whatever secrets the necklace held, he had a feeling they wouldn't stay hidden for long.