As Melvin approached the front entrance, his steps slowed, his gaze drawn upward to the imposing worn out wooden gate. 'Hmm...' He thought, intrigued by an observation, 'This market, in essence, is like the city, just smaller, and closed on top.'
On either side of the wide path before him, vendors hawked their wares, their makeshift stalls overflowing with vibrant displays of vegetables, meat, rugs, live animals, and an array of clothing.
The ground beneath his feet was a patchwork of mud and dirt, trampled by countless feet, with scattered debris adding to the gritty texture. Despite the filth, the market thrummed with life and energy, each corner a hive of activity.
Among the throng of shoppers, individuals adorned in a mix of traditional and modern attire moved with purpose. Some wore intricately embroidered robes, their rich colors standing out against the drab backdrop of the market. Others donned more practical attire, their clothes worn and weathered from years of use.
Amidst the chaos, shop owners sat beside their merchandise, sipping steaming cups of hot tea as they engaged in idle conversation with one another. Their weary faces bore the marks of countless hardships, but more so, a lack of sleep Melvin reasoned from their listless expressions.
Melvin could feel a flutter of excitement swelling with his heart once again, and with a deep breath, savoring all of the random smells, he took his first step inside.
The first thing that grabbed his attention was a small shop that sold Pomegranate juice, and what was so captivating about it was the fact that the fruits were purple and huge. His mouth salivated when he looked at the unmistakable delicious juice dripping down a wooden device. He immediately approached the vendor and got himself a big cup with a wooden straw and he continued strolling around the market under the cat's envious gaze.
The market was huge, and just like a city, it had various winding twists and turns. From what Melvin observed it was also separated into different sections, all of which had a different specialization. Some were responsible solely for live animals, others had shops where meat, pelts, and body parts were sold. Others only had clothes, and others had a vast collection of dry fruits that he had never seen before.
There was also one in particular that sold miscellaneous items, and that's where Melvin bought another wooden mortar, gum, a quill, a parchment, water bottle, and candles. With everything in hand, he began making his way out of the sinuous paths of the market, 'I still need alcohol and a piece of metal.' He thought with a pondering look.
Fortunately, he was still in possession of the Firecaster Ring. The random satisfaction he got by playing with it proved to be helpful as he kept it in his pocket the whole time.
When he emerged from the market, he had a bag filled with ingredients in his left hand, and in his right hand, a dark brown rolled ember-leaves that emitted a dancing line of smoke into the air. Now that he considered himself a superhuman, at least relative to his body on Earth, he was planning to smoke until his last days, as numerous or few as they would be.
At the same time, this plant that was used in the creation of these rolls had a very refreshing after-effect, and he could feel his mind's movement becoming seamless resulting in a slight increase in clarity whenever he inhaled it.
However, for Melvin, the allure of smoking lay not only in the act itself but also in the ritual it offered.
With each inhalation, he savored the sensation of drawing the warm smoke deep into his lungs. As the smoke made its journey through his respiratory system, it mingled with his bloodstream, carrying its intoxicating payload up to his brain. There, he felt the unmistakable kick, a rush of sensation that momentarily transported him to another realm. And with a leisurely exhale, he watched as the tendrils of smoke danced gracefully before his eyes, a fleeting moment of serenity in a chaotic world. To him, that was what was so important, that little moment of simplistic joy.
With a wide smile on his face, Melvin left the market behind, his destination the place he fell in because that's what he considered the safest place now. He turned to his right and saw the cat still following, albeit in a begrudging manner.
"What's wrong?" He asked teasingly. But he was very much aware of why exactly. Throughout his small trip to the market, Melvin had eaten and drank all kinds of things, all of which the feline couldn't get. Thus, when he saw him enjoying himself with the smoke as well, his mood soured even further.
Melvin not wanting the guy to lose confidence and hate his feline body, comforted, "Don't worry when we'll get home I'll give you one of the cigarettes I bought."
Firrol's eyebrows shot up, and his ears perked up, but he tried to play it cool by saying, "Why not."
Smiling, Melvin told him to pay attention in case he saw any thin metal plate or anything like it along the way, to which the cat nodded.
Melvin always liked it when people showed their actual emotions on their faces, just like the cat was doing. To him, in most cases, it represented that they were comfortable enough to be themselves and were direct about their wants, which was right up his alley.
The duo's path wasn't direct because Melvin didn't want to go through the main roads because they were always crawling with guards. Thus, they continued in a beeline from the North side where the market was to the south's streets. Reaching there, they continued moving east, that was where the dilapidated home was.
Suddenly, Melvin's nose twitched in a sniff and his steps halted. He looked at the curious cat beside him, and asked, "Have you robbed anyone before?"
Not understanding the abrupt and random question, Firrol still humored him and explained, "Just fish."
'Oh yeah, I forgot.' Melvin thought awkwardly, he then said, "It doesn't matter, now we will rob this guy that had just passed us by."
"Wait! No.." Firrol argued from behind, but by then Melvin had already pivoted toward the unsuspecting man.
"Hey there," Melvin, yelled menacingly from behind, "Stop!"
The following cat who was witnessing all of this had his mouth widen in shock, he then furiously looked in all directions, afraid someone might see them.
"Ee What?" Mumbled, the man after he turned around. A typical middle-aged man from the city, wearing a long dark blue shabby robe and had its hood on his face.
"Uncle," Melvin said seriously, trying to rob but remain polite, "Give me everything you got." He threatened with a dagger in his right hand that moved back and forth.
"I...I don't have anything.?" Said the man with a question, clearly very drunk as that was the smell Melvin had noticed.
"Cat, you scare him to give us his things." Melvin glanced at the petrified cat and ordered. Naturally, he wasn't just robbing people for the hell of it.
He had two goals in mind, first to steal the man's bottle of alcohol that he could see poking out from behind the attire. And, most importantly, he had to give this cat some guts, otherwise, he wouldn't even be able to do what he wanted him to.
Hearing the loud words, Firrol was shocked and began to glance at the windows in fear of someone waking up and calling the guards..
Observing that, Melvin finally found his opportunity. His voice raised a few octaves high, and he yelled, "Hey Cat, be quick, the guards will arrive!"
With a tail that had already stopped moving due to shock, Firrol audibly gulped as his ears began to twitch. "Oh no," He mumbled under his breath, he could hear the familiar hard boots of the guards against the pavement.
Gritting his teeth, his figure began to emerge with the darkness, and his eyes turned pitch black. His form seemed to stretch out beyond its previous limits, and he gazed at the man's eyes waking him up from his drunkness with a guttural unsettling yowl.
"AHH," The man yelled, petrified retreating into the wall, "I really don't have anything."
Noticing that his job was done, Melvin smiled reached into the man's clothes, and brought out a half-filled bottle of alcohol. The moment he did, he heard a distant, "Stop!" Turning around, he saw a group of guards running in their direction.
Thanks to his improved state after the meal and the calm walk down the market, the pain he was feeling had lessened to a big degree without him doing anything, and so with a bottle in hand, and a bag in the other, he bolted in the opposite direction loudly laughing along the way, with a scared cat following after him.
Although Melvin didn't know why Firrol was unreasonably scared for a strong stray cat, he was going to find out.
"That was uncalled for!" Yelled the cat from the side, "The poor old man peed himself."
"Well," Melvin said loudly amidst their run, "You can be pretty scary." Remembering what Firrol looked like previously, Melvin shivered in fright. It was such an unsettling sight that made people feel a primal terror.
Hearing that, Firrol clicked his tongue in annoyance.
After they ran away from the guards along the sinuous streets of now South East Nightmond, the duo resumed walking at a normal pace.
The feline's expression was a complicated one, and after a while, he solemnly said, "You will get yourself killed at this rate."
Noticing the severity of the voice, Melvin mirrored his expression and asked, "Why is that?"
"I don't think you realize how dangerous the city is," He said, and then he looked at Melvin and commented, "Or how weak you are in the grand scheme of it."
"Oh?" Melvin murmured in surprise, "Do tell." He said.
Firrol then explained, "If a certain group of people with a moderate amount of power and influence in the city wanted to catch you, they would trust me." Shaking his head in disagreement he remarked, "Moreover, someone is trying to kill you and you're making such a big ruckus at night. That is stupid. Imagine there was a Captain among the guards that followed us earlier. You wouldn't even be dead right now as the fight wouldn't be dangerous, he would have long caught you and probably taken you to get executed."
Understanding his point, Melvin immediately agreed with him. He was carried away by trying to tackle Firrol's fear, and never even bothered if that fear was grounded in reality or not. In hindsight, it was a very arrogant move, for him who had just come to this world and didn't know anything to not trust the instinct of someone who lived here.
"Alright, I understand, I'll pay attention next time." Melvin agreed, his tone understanding and grateful.
The feline's eyebrows lifted imperceptibly, a subtle indication of his surprise, followed by a faint smile mumbling, "Good."
The duo quickly reached the dark alley once again and made their way into the even darker house.
Stepping foot inside, Melvin glanced at one of the dark rooms and said, "Alright I'll go work, don't bother me."
Firrol's lips pressed into a thin line, a scowl darkening his expression as he shot Melvin a withering look of annoyance, "Sure."
'This cat is so sensitive' Melvin thought amusingly, he then followed after the cat that went deep into the house, and said, "Wait."
When the two of them were in the wide hall under the lightwell, Melvin put down his bag and smiled at the cat. Without saying anything else, he reached into his bag and brought out a brown paper bag filled with stuff.
Smelling the contents of the bag, Firrol gulped as a greedy light flashed in his eyes, "Is this for me?" he asked with a hopeful tone.
As Melvin approached the front entrance, his steps slowed, his gaze drawn upward to the imposing worn out wooden gate. 'Hmm...' He thought, intrigued by an observation, 'This market, in essence, is like the city, just smaller, and closed on top.'
On either side of the wide path before him, vendors hawked their wares, their makeshift stalls overflowing with vibrant displays of vegetables, meat, rugs, live animals, and an array of clothing.
The ground beneath his feet was a patchwork of mud and dirt, trampled by countless feet, with scattered debris adding to the gritty texture. Despite the filth, the market thrummed with life and energy, each corner a hive of activity.
Among the throng of shoppers, individuals adorned in a mix of traditional and modern attire moved with purpose. Some wore intricately embroidered robes, their rich colors standing out against the drab backdrop of the market. Others donned more practical attire, their clothes worn and weathered from years of use.
Amidst the chaos, shop owners sat beside their merchandise, sipping steaming cups of hot tea as they engaged in idle conversation with one another. Their weary faces bore the marks of countless hardships, but more so, a lack of sleep Melvin reasoned from their listless expressions.
Melvin could feel a flutter of excitement swelling with his heart once again, and with a deep breath, savoring all of the random smells, he took his first step inside.
The first thing that grabbed his attention was a small shop that sold Pomegranate juice, and what was so captivating about it was the fact that the fruits were purple and huge. His mouth salivated when he looked at the unmistakable delicious juice dripping down a wooden device. He immediately approached the vendor and got himself a big cup with a wooden straw and he continued strolling around the market under the cat's envious gaze.
The market was huge, and just like a city, it had various winding twists and turns. From what Melvin observed it was also separated into different sections, all of which had a different specialization. Some were responsible solely for live animals, others had shops where meat, pelts, and body parts were sold. Others only had clothes, and others had a vast collection of dry fruits that he had never seen before.
There was also one in particular that sold miscellaneous items, and that's where Melvin bought another wooden mortar, gum, a quill, a parchment, water bottle, and candles. With everything in hand, he began making his way out of the sinuous paths of the market, 'I still need alcohol and a piece of metal.' He thought with a pondering look.
Fortunately, he was still in possession of the Firecaster Ring. The random satisfaction he got by playing with it proved to be helpful as he kept it in his pocket the whole time.
When he emerged from the market, he had a bag filled with ingredients in his left hand, and in his right hand, a dark brown rolled ember-leaves that emitted a dancing line of smoke into the air. Now that he considered himself a superhuman, at least relative to his body on Earth, he was planning to smoke until his last days, as numerous or few as they would be.
At the same time, this plant that was used in the creation of these rolls had a very refreshing after-effect, and he could feel his mind's movement becoming seamless resulting in a slight increase in clarity whenever he inhaled it.
However, for Melvin, the allure of smoking lay not only in the act itself but also in the ritual it offered.
With each inhalation, he savored the sensation of drawing the warm smoke deep into his lungs. As the smoke made its journey through his respiratory system, it mingled with his bloodstream, carrying its intoxicating payload up to his brain. There, he felt the unmistakable kick, a rush of sensation that momentarily transported him to another realm. And with a leisurely exhale, he watched as the tendrils of smoke danced gracefully before his eyes, a fleeting moment of serenity in a chaotic world. To him, that was what was so important, that little moment of simplistic joy.
With a wide smile on his face, Melvin left the market behind, his destination the place he fell in because that's what he considered the safest place now. He turned to his right and saw the cat still following, albeit in a begrudging manner.
"What's wrong?" He asked teasingly. But he was very much aware of why exactly. Throughout his small trip to the market, Melvin had eaten and drank all kinds of things, all of which the feline couldn't get. Thus, when he saw him enjoying himself with the smoke as well, his mood soured even further.
Melvin not wanting the guy to lose confidence and hate his feline body, comforted, "Don't worry when we'll get home I'll give you one of the cigarettes I bought."
Firrol's eyebrows shot up, and his ears perked up, but he tried to play it cool by saying, "Why not."
Smiling, Melvin told him to pay attention in case he saw any thin metal plate or anything like it along the way, to which the cat nodded.
Melvin always liked it when people showed their actual emotions on their faces, just like the cat was doing. To him, in most cases, it represented that they were comfortable enough to be themselves and were direct about their wants, which was right up his alley.
The duo's path wasn't direct because Melvin didn't want to go through the main roads because they were always crawling with guards. Thus, they continued in a beeline from the North side where the market was to the south's streets. Reaching there, they continued moving east, that was where the dilapidated home was.
Suddenly, Melvin's nose twitched in a sniff and his steps halted. He looked at the curious cat beside him, and asked, "Have you robbed anyone before?"
Not understanding the abrupt and random question, Firrol still humored him and explained, "Just fish."
'Oh yeah, I forgot.' Melvin thought awkwardly, he then said, "It doesn't matter, now we will rob this guy that had just passed us by."
"Wait! No.." Firrol argued from behind, but by then Melvin had already pivoted toward the unsuspecting man.
"Hey there," Melvin, yelled menacingly from behind, "Stop!"
The following cat who was witnessing all of this had his mouth widen in shock, he then furiously looked in all directions, afraid someone might see them.
"Ee What?" Mumbled, the man after he turned around. A typical middle-aged man from the city, wearing a long dark blue shabby robe and had its hood on his face.
"Uncle," Melvin said seriously, trying to rob but remain polite, "Give me everything you got." He threatened with a dagger in his right hand that moved back and forth.
"I...I don't have anything.?" Said the man with a question, clearly very drunk as that was the smell Melvin had noticed.
"Cat, you scare him to give us his things." Melvin glanced at the petrified cat and ordered. Naturally, he wasn't just robbing people for the hell of it.
He had two goals in mind, first to steal the man's bottle of alcohol that he could see poking out from behind the attire. And, most importantly, he had to give this cat some guts, otherwise, he wouldn't even be able to do what he wanted him to.
Hearing the loud words, Firrol was shocked and began to glance at the windows in fear of someone waking up and calling the guards..
Observing that, Melvin finally found his opportunity. His voice raised a few octaves high, and he yelled, "Hey Cat, be quick, the guards will arrive!"
With a tail that had already stopped moving due to shock, Firrol audibly gulped as his ears began to twitch. "Oh no," He mumbled under his breath, he could hear the familiar hard boots of the guards against the pavement.
Gritting his teeth, his figure began to emerge with the darkness, and his eyes turned pitch black. His form seemed to stretch out beyond its previous limits, and he gazed at the man's eyes waking him up from his drunkness with a guttural unsettling yowl.
"AHH," The man yelled, petrified retreating into the wall, "I really don't have anything."
Noticing that his job was done, Melvin smiled reached into the man's clothes, and brought out a half-filled bottle of alcohol. The moment he did, he heard a distant, "Stop!" Turning around, he saw a group of guards running in their direction.
Thanks to his improved state after the meal and the calm walk down the market, the pain he was feeling had lessened to a big degree without him doing anything, and so with a bottle in hand, and a bag in the other, he bolted in the opposite direction loudly laughing along the way, with a scared cat following after him.
Although Melvin didn't know why Firrol was unreasonably scared for a strong stray cat, he was going to find out.
"That was uncalled for!" Yelled the cat from the side, "The poor old man peed himself."
"Well," Melvin said loudly amidst their run, "You can be pretty scary." Remembering what Firrol looked like previously, Melvin shivered in fright. It was such an unsettling sight that made people feel a primal terror.
Hearing that, Firrol clicked his tongue in annoyance.
After they ran away from the guards along the sinuous streets of now South East Nightmond, the duo resumed walking at a normal pace.
The feline's expression was a complicated one, and after a while, he solemnly said, "You will get yourself killed at this rate."
Noticing the severity of the voice, Melvin mirrored his expression and asked, "Why is that?"
"I don't think you realize how dangerous the city is," He said, and then he looked at Melvin and commented, "Or how weak you are in the grand scheme of it."
"Oh?" Melvin murmured in surprise, "Do tell." He said.
Firrol then explained, "If a certain group of people with a moderate amount of power and influence in the city wanted to catch you, they would trust me." Shaking his head in disagreement he remarked, "Moreover, someone is trying to kill you and you're making such a big ruckus at night. That is stupid. Imagine there was a Captain among the guards that followed us earlier. You wouldn't even be dead right now as the fight wouldn't be dangerous, he would have long caught you and probably taken you to get executed."
Understanding his point, Melvin immediately agreed with him. He was carried away by trying to tackle Firrol's fear, and never even bothered if that fear was grounded in reality or not. In hindsight, it was a very arrogant move, for him who had just come to this world and didn't know anything to not trust the instinct of someone who lived here.
"Alright, I understand, I'll pay attention next time." Melvin agreed, his tone understanding and grateful.
The feline's eyebrows lifted imperceptibly, a subtle indication of his surprise, followed by a faint smile mumbling, "Good."
The duo quickly reached the dark alley once again and made their way into the even darker house.
Stepping foot inside, Melvin glanced at one of the dark rooms and said, "Alright I'll go work, don't bother me."
Firrol's lips pressed into a thin line, a scowl darkening his expression as he shot Melvin a withering look of annoyance, "Sure."
'This cat is so sensitive' Melvin thought amusingly, he then followed after the cat that went deep into the house, and said, "Wait."
When the two of them were in the wide hall under the lightwell, Melvin put down his bag and smiled at the cat. Without saying anything else, he reached into his bag and brought out a brown paper bag filled with stuff.
Smelling the contents of the bag, Firrol gulped as a greedy light flashed in his eyes, "Is this for me?" he asked with a hopeful tone.
