by L. C. Mawson
Freya lifted her head from the shelf filled with comics to see a shop assistant. She was cute, standing at a little shorter than Freya, with golden brown skin, soft hazel eyes, and a short, bubblegum pink mohawk.
Freya blushed a little, pointing to the shelf in front of her.
“I was just looking. I’m usually a Marvel girl but... I don’t know, I thought I’d have a look and see if there was any DC stuff with... You know, with good female heroes.”
The girl smirked. “You mean, like, Wonder Woman?”
Freya’s blush deepened with embarrassment.
The girl’s smile became kinder. “Well, like any of the female heroes, it’s hit and miss, depending on the run. If you want, I could tell you my favourites.”
Before Freya could reply, the shop door opened once more.
“Freya?” she heard Amber ask, though this time it wasn’t Amber’s voice. It was her tone and inflection, but the voice belonged to Ms Pearson, the old, brain-dead woman Amber possessed in order to interact with Freya in public.
“Hey,” Freya greeted as Amber walked over, though she didn’t turn away from the girl in front of her.
“Is this your grandma?” the girl asked.
“Yeah,” Freya lied for simplicity. She figured “Woman who used to wield the power of the Ancients but disappeared to avoid the political crap within magic society, only allowing contact with my mother in order to train her because she was too powerful and potentially dangerous, but then dying before my mother finished training, which according to her set in motion the events which led to my mother’s death, so she allowed my mother to bind her to me, and therefore the mortal realm, to ensure that someone was there to watch over me when I came into my own power” was a bit of a mouthful.
“Are you ready to get going?” Amber asked her.
“Almost,” Freya said, taking her eyes off the girl in front of her to momentarily face Amber, before turning right back. “I think I’ll just be taking this,” Freya told her, indicating to the Ms Marvel book in her hands.
“Alright then,” the girl said, bringing Freya over to the till as Freya handed the book over for scanning.
“Here, I’ll get it for you,” Amber offered, pulling her purse out.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
The girl smiled at her as they left, undoing all of the fading her blush had managed.
“Yo-ou like her,” Amber sang as they left the shop.
“No I don’t,” Freya muttered. “Shut up.”
“Does this mean you’re finally over your crush on Damon?”
Freya sighed. “Look, the only reason I haven’t dated anyone since meeting him is that no opportunities have arrived. Not because I’m weirdly hung up on him or anything like that.”
“What about Dean? Didn’t he ask you out?”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Dean doesn’t count. I don’t like him like that. Good thing too. After I turned him down, he got all weird and stalk-y. He still sends me Facebook messages every couple of days. Imagine dating someone like that. Urgh.”
“Can you not block him?”
Freya shrugged. “Yeah, but then he’ll make a thing about it. He insists that he’s just being ‘friendly’. But then he takes every opportunity to try and touch me and won’t stop with comments like, ‘You know, if we were dating...’ I am so glad we’re taking separate A-Levels next year.” She paused for a minute, thinking, before asking, “I’m not that creepy around Damon, am I?”
Amber shook her head. “No, as far as I’ve observed, you keep your feelings to yourself and don’t do anything to make him feel pressured to date you. On the second matter, you’re right, but on the first... Do you realise that the boy has never actually rejected you?”
“And what happens if he does and then doesn’t feel comfortable being friends with me?”
Amber remained silent at that, answering her question. Freya had never been particularly good with people, with the exception of Damon. But Damon was Magic Sensitive, which meant that he didn’t have that subconscious, primal instinct most Humans had that identified her for what she was; a magical being, and a potential threat. Humans avoided her and so she had no friends. If Damon stopped hanging out with her, she would have no one.
“So... this market?” Freya asked, trying to figure out where they were going as she followed Amber’s lead.
“It’s the focal point for the magical community in the city.”
Freya frowned. She had only ever encountered Dark Creatures who were trying to kill her, or at least kill a Human she was trying to protect. Well, except for Evelyn. She was just a Dark Creature who... Had sort of helped her out once? Freya had no idea how meeting other magical beings was going to go. She had tried to ask Amber about there being a magical community in the city before, but Amber had just brushed her questions aside, telling her that she wasn’t ready and that it was best to keep her head down. Freya wondered why she’d changed her mind now.
“So, what can I expect?”
Amber sighed. “In all honesty, I’m not sure. It’s been over twenty years, remember? Just... keep your head down and your guard up. I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“My safety?” Freya asked with a raised eyebrow. “You anticipate a market being dangerous?”
“Just have your guard up.”
Freya nodded as she followed Amber down the street and along into an alley. Freya rarely ventured into this part of town, usually staying in the main shopping area. This part was filled with older, Georgian buildings, a lot of which obviously hadn’t been properly looked after. Many of the shop fronts were empty and the ones which weren’t were occupied by knock-off fast-food chains and bookies.
“Where exactly is this market?” Freya asked.
“Here,” Amber said, indicating to a large, boarded up building. Freya vaguely remembered one of her classmate’s getting nostalgic about it once. It had been a large, indoor market, which had been around for hundreds of years. It had mostly been filled with butchers and haberdasheries and sweet shops. The building had been shut down in the mid-2000s, thanks to it falling into a state of disrepair, though there had been a huge refurbishment project planned by the government. And then the recession hit. After that, the project had been abandoned, and the building had been left to rot.
“In here?” Freya asked, pointing to the hazard warnings posted over the boards.
“Yes. We’ve re-purposed the inside of the building. The signs are just an illusion.”
“So, how do I get in?”
“Disrupt the illusion.”
Freya nodded, sensing the magic in front of her and, much like pulling at a stray thread, she weakened the spell enough to let her step through without resistance.
As she entered, she had to quickly step to the side to avoid a large, hulking beast, wearing a large trench-coat which did nothing to hide its scaly skin.
“Watch it,” it growled at her as it passed, leaving through the entrance she had just used.
“Don’t mind him,” Amber told her. “Wyverns tend to be funny about their personal space.”
Freya wasn’t listening. She was too enraptured by the sight in front of her. She was standing at the end of a long hallway with a high ceiling, a variety of small shops on either side. Some were completely open, with their shelves of stock expanding into the walkway. Others were little more than a single counter, with all of the stock on shelves behind. The shops on the corners seemed to actually have doors and be properly walled off from the rest of the market.
Freya looked over to the next row and could see that there was an open cafe in the middle of the market, filled with a variety of creatures she couldn’t even begin to name. Most were humanoid, though she definitely saw one Centaur among the crowds.
“All of these people live in the city?” Freya asked, disbelieving. She’d encountered enough Demons to know that there was a significant magical element in the city, but
this was far more than she had previously imagined.
Amber shrugged. “Probably not all of them. This is the largest market in the area, so a decent number will just be here to shop. But, yes, the majority will live in the city.”
Freya couldn’t help but stare as they passed a shop which seemed to sell potion ingredients. It seemed like an odd mix between a vegan health-food shop and a butcher. Exotic herbs were sitting next to a jar of eyes. Freya hoped they weren’t Human, but they looked suspiciously so.
“Where are we going, then?” Freya asked, indicating to her backpack. She had charmed it to enlarge the inside in order to fit all of her things. She referred to it as the Mary Poppins charm, mostly because doing so annoyed Amber.
“Myrcella’s Goods. She’s always had good prices.”
Freya nodded, following Amber to one of the larger, corner shops. There was a sound of a wind chime when they entered, alerting the elderly woman behind the counter that they had entered, though she was too busy yelling at the lithe man in front of her to notice.
“For the last time, no,” she said, clearly struggling to maintain a professional demeanour.
“Myrcella, please, this is a ridiculous rule,” the man protested with an accent Freya couldn’t place. She noted he had long, white blond hair, pulled away from his large and pointed ears in a ponytail. She wondered if he was an Elf.
“Most of my customers are Light magic users. They can’t risk buying tainted goods. So I will not buy armour made of flesh. Go try Edgar’s hole.”
“His prices aren’t as good.”
“Because he’s not as discerning.”
Freya examined the shop’s stock, trying not to look as if she was listening in on the argument. There was a variety of swords and shields, but nothing more impressive than she already had.
No, her gaze was drawn by something else altogether. A set of bright white, light armour, with a beautiful, intricate, gold design across it. Freya was so used to her hodgepodge armour that seeing a full set was a thing of beauty.
“There’s no way I can afford that, is there?”
“Hmm? What?” Amber asked. Freya turned to see that she was staring at the Elf, though she was doing her best to look as if she wasn’t.
“You know him?” Freya asked.
Amber sighed. “Once. A lifetime ago.”
Freya didn’t have a response to that, so she went back to admiring the armour in front of her. It looked nothing like the armour the Demons wore, and she supposed it was fashioned for Creatures of Light. It seemed far more fitting for her to wear armour like this set, rather than the Demonic stock she currently settled for.
“There’s no convincing you, is there?” the Elf finally said, folding his arms.
“Sorry, Zed. I can’t make exceptions. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have customers.”
Amber moved over at that and Freya followed, keeping behind her mentor. As excited as she was to encounter new and friendly magical creatures, she wasn’t all that eager to draw attention to herself.
“Now there’s a presence I haven’t felt in, what? Fifty years?” Myrcella commented. “Amber, is that you?”
Amber smiled. “In the flesh. Well, not mine, but you know what I mean.”
Mrycella harrumphed. “To my knowledge, the Power of the Ancients doesn’t make you a shape-changer. And didn’t I hear you had died? Or was it that you had moved to another realm? I can’t remember...”
“It’s a long story,” Amber said simply.
“It had better be, for me to not recognise you,” Zed told her, cutting into the conversation. “And for you to have disappeared like that.”
Amber shrugged. “The timeline changed.”
“Ah, my love, you wound me.”
Freya tried not to make gagging noises as Amber blushed.
Myrcella seemed to have no such restraint when it came to breaking up the two lovebirds. “Okay, this isn’t a social space. This is a shop. Trade or get out.”
Amber cleared her throat in an embarrassed manner as she indicated to Freya. “Well, yes. My student here has some things to trade.”
Myrcella nodded, accepting the backpack and pulling a breastplate from it. “Hmm,” she said as she examined it carefully. “Has it had any Demon wearers?”
“The one before me,” Freya said before glancing at Amber. She didn’t know whether or not to mention her own Demon blood. Not that there was a significant amount of it, but she did draw on Dark energy from time to time. She didn’t like to think about it, but if she was being honest with herself, it came a bit more easily to her than Light energy did.
Amber didn’t add any commentary, so Freya assumed that it was fine.
“None of this appears to be made from Dark materials. I’ll have to cleanse them before I sell them on, so the price’ll take a hit, but I can take the whole lot off your hands. It’ll take me a while to sift through and decide on a price, though.”
Freya nodded as Amber indicated to the suit of armour. “She was admiring that set. Any chance it’ll cover it?”
Myrcella huffed, blowing her silver, bob-length hair from her face. “That’s huntin’ armour. It’s only worth getting if you’re anticipating trouble. And I mean real trouble. It’s Dwarven made, with Elven runes. It was fashioned much like the set the Geni wore during the Elven Revolts back before the construction of Altiva.”
“That’s a ‘no’ then?”
Before Myrcella could reply, there was a shout from beyond the door.
“‘Cella! I thought you said you were going to widen this thing!”
“Excuse me for two minutes,” Myrcella said to them, before hurrying over to the door. “Yeah, Abigail came by yesterday. She said that it would be structurally unsafe and there’s already too much magic keeping this place held up.”
“Yes, but has she considered that this is actually illegal?” the voice, which appeared to belong to a young woman, though Freya couldn’t be certain, replied, sounding tired and exasperated.
Myrcella shrugged. “If you want to try taking Abigail to court, I’d love to see you explain to the Human justice system the presence of a magical marketplace inside an abandoned building in the middle of town. You’d be lucky if the Council of Light only killed you.”
“And Abigail will be lucky if I don’t hex her,” came the mumbled reply, so low that Freya had to enhance her hearing to pick it up.
“If you give me your shopping list, I can get everything together myself.”
“No, no. I could probably use the stretch.” The voice finally revealed themselves as a girl limped into the shop. She had dark scales instead of skin. They were almost black, though they had a slight aqua hue. Her hair was a long, dark blue and tied up in a ponytail, away from her jet black eyes. She was wearing a RWBY hoodie and a denim skirt. She turned back to the door, pulling a wand from her handbag and casting a shrinking charm. She stepped back out before returning with what looked like a wheelchair for a Barbie.
Myrcella walked back over to the counter. “Sorry about that,” she said to Amber and Freya as the other girl limped over to the shelves, having put her chair into her handbag.
“As I was saying, in all honesty, I would love to sell you the suit. All the interest I’ve had so far has been from collectors and it would be a shame for it to end up on display somewhere. A suit like that is meant to be worn. To be bathed in the blood of your enemies, not locked up and kept pristine. But I run a business. I would sell it to you for a discount, but it would still be about five k.”
“Five thousand pounds?” Freya asked.
Amber nodded. “That is a hefty discount,” she reasoned. “Assuming my inflation estimations are on point.”
Freya didn’t really have a response to that. She got a £10 a week allowance, which had to cover her bus fare, any games or movies or books she wanted to buy, going out with Damon, and any clothes she needed, excluding her uniform. She had to wait two months to save up enough for a new video game.
&
nbsp; “And the stuff here won’t cover it?” Amber asked.
Myrcella shook her head. “Some of it’s good stuff, but most is pretty common. Mass produced for lower Demons. I can’t imagine the whole lot being more than three thousand.”
Freya’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. Three thousand pounds? Sure, it might not be enough for the shiny suit of armour, but it was more than enough for a shiny new gaming computer.
“Oh well,” Amber said, shrugging. “Maybe you’ll find something else. Perhaps a potion making kit? It’s more than time for you to graduate to more complex ones than you make with the pans in your house.”
Freya nodded in agreement, though she was less excited at that prospect than using all of the money for a new computer. Potion making was time consuming and required finer hand-eye coordination than she was capable of for all of the careful steps.
The girl from before walked up to the counter as Freya and Amber stepped away, her arms filled with various items, from flasks to runes.
“So, how come you’re doing the shopping this week, Mel?” Myrcella asked her. “Usually it’s Allison.”
“Yeah, well, Ally’s ill. She tried to force herself up, but I told her to stay put. Also, I needed a break from her covering everything in snot.”
“Oh dear. You know, I think Brandon might have something for that.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m headed there next.”
Mel spotted Freya’s backpack on the counter and smiled, a little shyly, at the Rooster Teeth logo, pointing at her hoodie as she said “Snap.”
Freya grinned back at her. “Yeah,” she said, a little lost for words beyond that. She’d never met anyone who recognised her backpack before.
Luckily, before it became awkward, Mel was distracted by Myrcella, who was inspecting a dagger from the bag.
“Oh, hey, where’d you get that knife?” Mel asked.
“I took it from a Demon maybe... three months ago?”
“Why?” Myrcella asked Mel.
“See that insignia?” Mel said, pointing at the pommel. “That’s the Cult of Eden. They’ve been causing a fuss in the city for the past couple of years. They’re convinced that we should all be warring with each other and ignore the Humans. They’re first-class, premium dicks. The Demons put a bounty out on them as a sign of good faith to the rest of the magical community.”