First Step in the new World

Ofelia's eyes fluttered open to the soft light of dawn filtering through the window. The room was quiet, save for the faint chirping of birds outside and the gentle rhythm of James's breathing beneath her. She blinked, her mind sluggishly piecing together her surroundings until a sudden realization made her freeze.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was draped over James's back, her arms loosely wrapped around his back, her cheek resting against the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders. During the night, she must have shifted closer to him in her sleep—closer than she had any right to. The warmth of his body under her own was both comforting and profoundly embarrassing.

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to assess the situation. James had rolled onto his stomach at some point, and she… she had followed, clinging to him like a child seeking comfort. The thought made her ears burn with shame.

She carefully raised her head, studying his face for any sign of wakefulness. His eyes were closed, his expression peaceful, and his breathing steady. Relief washed over her. He's still asleep. He didn't notice.

Still, the embarrassment lingered. She had no idea how she could have let this happen. She wasn't used to this kind of closeness, this level of comfort. Yet, despite the awkwardness, a small part of her felt at ease—safe, even. The thought startled her. She hadn't felt safe in so long that she had forgotten what it even meant.

Carefully, she shifted her weight, her movements slow and deliberate. Her slender fingers released their grip on him, and she eased herself back, her light frame making no sound against the creaking bed. Her heart pounded as she finally settled beside him, sitting up and adjusting the loose shirt her Master had given her.

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, a faint sense of wonder in her eyes. He looked so different like this, his face relaxed and free of worry. There was a softness to him she hadn't noticed before, a quiet strength in the way he carried himself even in rest.

Ofelia's thoughts wandered as she observed him. She noted the sharpness of his jawline, the unruly strands of hair that fell across his forehead, and the slight rise and fall of his back with each breath. He wasn't like anyone she'd known before. He wasn't cruel or demanding. He didn't look at her with disdain or indifference. Instead, he had treated her with kindness—something that still felt foreign to her.

Why? she wondered. Why had he bought her? Why had he shown her consideration when so many others would not?

Shaking her head, she forced the questions aside. This wasn't the time for such thoughts. She needed to move, to busy herself with something—anything—to shake off the vulnerability creeping into her chest.

Sliding off the bed as silently as possible, she tiptoed across the room, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. She reached for the small basin of water James had left by the bedside table the night before and splashed some onto her face. The coolness was refreshing, grounding her.

What she didn't realize, however, was that James had been awake for the past twenty minutes. He had felt her stir atop him, her small frame shifting as she hesitated. He had kept his eyes shut, feigning sleep, unwilling to cause her another moment of panic like the morning before.

As he lay there, listening to her move about the room, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He was beginning to understand her—a little more each day. Ofelia was like a bird that had been caged too long, her wings clipped by fear and pain. But here, in these quiet moments, he saw glimpses of her as she could be—graceful, gentle, and free.

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A few minutes passed in silence. Ofelia busied herself with tidying the small room, folding the spare blanket neatly and brushing off nonexistent specks of dust from the table. Her movements were light and deliberate, like a shadow flitting across the room, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful stillness.

Behind her, James stretched his arms slightly and let out a theatrical yawn, his voice breaking the quiet. "Good morning," he said, his tone warm and casual as he turned his head to look at her.

Ofelia froze for a fraction of a second, her fingers tightening on the edge of the folded blanket. He's awake. Forcing herself to remain calm, she turned toward him, her expression neutral, though her cheeks held a faint pink hue.

"Good morning, Master James," she replied softly, her voice low and formal, the tone of a servant addressing her superior.

James raised an eyebrow at her response but chose not to comment. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, trying to smooth the wild strands sticking up after a night of tossing and turning.

The question seemed to catch her off guard. She hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her shirt. "Y-yes, I did. Thank you," she replied, her eyes flickering downward to avoid his gaze.

James frowned slightly, noticing the return of her guarded demeanor. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to act like this around him, but he held back. He knew it wasn't something he could change with words alone. Trust took time.

"Good," he said simply, his voice calm. He swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm starving. Let's get ready and head downstairs for breakfast."

Ofelia nodded obediently, stepping aside as he moved to gather his belongings. She silently folded his spare shirt and set it on the edge of the bed, her movements precise and deferential. Meanwhile, James pulled on his boots and adjusted his belt, ensuring his sword was secured. He glanced at Ofelia, who was now waiting by the door, her posture straight and her hands clasped in front of her.

"You don't have to stand like that, you know," he said, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You're not a soldier waiting for orders."

She blinked, her cheeks flushing faintly. "I'm sorry," she murmured, automatically lowering her head.

James sighed inwardly but offered her a small smile. "No need to apologize. Let's just go eat."

She followed him quietly as they left the room and descended the wooden staircase to the inn's common area. The warm scent of baked bread and sizzling meat filled the air, accompanied by the low hum of conversation from the few early risers already seated at the tables.

Marlin, the innkeeper, greeted them with a cheerful wave as they entered. "Morning, you two! Grab a seat, and I'll bring your usual."

James nodded in thanks and led Ofelia to an empty table near the window. The morning light spilled through the glass, casting a soft glow on the wooden surfaces. He gestured for her to sit, and she did so hesitantly, her hands resting on her lap as she kept her gaze lowered.

"Relax," James said, leaning back in his chair. "It's just breakfast."

Ofelia glanced at James, her lips pressing into a thin line before she nodded slightly. She was still adjusting to the way he treated her—not as a possession, but as a person. It was unsettling, yet strangely comforting.

A few minutes later, Marlin arrived with two plates piled high with eggs, smoked sausage, and thick slices of buttered bread. He set the plates down with a grin. "Eat up. You'll need the energy for whatever you're planning today."

"Thanks, Marlin," James said, smiling as he handed over 4 silver coins to cover their next night. The innkeeper nodded in appreciation, tucking the payment away with a practiced motion.

Satisfied, James reached for his fork. Ofelia hesitated, her hands hovering over her utensils as she glanced at James for permission. He caught her look and smiled. "Go ahead. You don't need to wait for me."

She nodded, her movements careful as she began eating. The food was warm and flavorful, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to enjoy it. James watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting the way her shoulders relaxed slightly with each bite.

The silence between them was comfortable, punctuated only by the clinking of utensils. For James, it felt like a small victory—a step forward in easing the tension that still lingered between them.

As they ate in silence, James's curiosity got the better of him. He set down his fork, leaned back slightly, and glanced at Ofelia, who was carefully nibbling on a piece of bread.

"Ofelia," he began, his tone casual but laced with interest. She immediately straightened in her chair, her hands lowering the bread to the plate as she turned her attention to him. "That magic stone I gave you yesterday… you still have it, right?"

Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded. "Yes, Master James," she replied softly. Reaching into the pocket of her shirt, she pulled out the stone—a small, faintly glowing crystal about the size of a walnut—and placed it carefully on the table between them.

James leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the object. The glow was dimmer than he remembered, and the once vibrant energy within seemed diminished. Intrigued, he activated his Appraisal skill, focusing on the stone.

A familiar glitchy interface appeared before him, the text flickering erratically as it displayed the stone's details:

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[Appraisal Activated]

N@me: B!a#ck Mana St%ne

Cond!tion: Good

Eff#ct: 1% Charged - Absorbs a small portion of mana from defeated monsters

Valu^e: 15 Copper Coins

Err%r: None Detected

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James's brows furrowed as he look at the stone . The stone had lost 2% of its charge overnight. He looked at Ofelia, who was watching him cautiously, her expression unreadable.

"You've been carrying this all night?" he asked, his tone curious rather than accusatory.

She nodded again, her fingers lightly brushing her lap. "Yes, Master James...as you say."

He tilted his head, studying her. "How do you feel? Any different than yesterday?"

She hesitated, her lips pressing together in thought. "I… I feel a little better," she admitted, almost shyly. "Less tired… it's easier to think."

James leaned back, folding his arms as he considered her words. The stone had lost 2% of its charge, and according to the interface, the energy had been absorbed by her body. Mana depletion and sickness, he remembered from the status he had appraised earlier. 

"That's fascinating," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "Your body really is drawing energy from the stone to heal itself."

Ofelia stiffened slightly at his words, her hands clasping tightly in her lap. Her voice trembling. "I can give it back if it's broken—"

"Hey, hey," James interrupted gently, holding up a hand to calm her. "It's not broken. It's doing exactly what it's supposed to do. You needed it more than the stone needed its charge."

She blinked at him, her expression wavering between confusion and relief. "You're… not angry?"

"Of course not," James said with a smile, reaching for the stone and holding it up to inspect it more closely. "If anything, this is good news. It means we can use items like this to help you recover. I just didn't realize it to deplete so quickly."

He set the stone back down on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge. "From now on, we'll keep an eye on how much energy the stone has left. If it gets too low, we'll have to figure out a way to recharge it. But for now, I want you to keep carrying it. Got it?"

Ofelia nodded hesitantly, her hands unclenching as some of the tension drained from her shoulders. "Yes, Master James."

"Good." He grinned and picked up his fork again, returning to his breakfast. "You're full of surprises, you know that?"

She didn't respond, her gaze dropping back to her plate. But there was a faint warmth in her chest—a quiet gratitude for his patience and understanding. As strange as her new life was, she felt a flicker of something unfamiliar: hope.

After finishing their breakfast, James and Ofelia left the inn and made their way to the Merchant's Quarter. The streets were already bustling with activity, the clatter of carts and the murmur of early deals filling the air. James walked confidently, his steps purposeful, while Ofelia followed a step behind him, her gaze lowered and her hands clasped in front of her.

As they approached the auction house, the familiar sight of the modest yet well-maintained building came into view. The wooden sign above the door, depicting a gavel and a coin purse, swayed gently in the breeze. The place exuded an air of quiet importance, its entrance busy with merchants, traders, and auction enthusiasts discussing their business in hushed tones.

James pushed open the heavy wooden door, stepping inside and holding it briefly for Ofelia. She slipped in silently behind him, her movements careful and unassuming. The interior was just as he remembered—polished wooden floors, rows of simple but sturdy benches, and a raised platform at the far end where items were displayed for bidding.

James approach a clerk, a bespectacled man with sharp eyes and a calculating air, who was stationed at the front desk. His attention flickered briefly to Ofelia before settling on James.

"Ah, good morning," the clerk said with a polite nod. "Mr. Mason as told you would come, you're here about the bronze pendant, I presume?"

James returned the nod. "That's right. The auction's over, I take it?"

"It concluded yesterday evening," the clerk replied, reaching beneath the counter to retrieve a small ledger. He flipped through the pages briskly before stopping and running his finger down a column of numbers. "The highest bid was one gold coin and twenty-four silver."

James raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. "Better than I expected," he said with a grin. "Who was the buyer?"

"That information is confidential," the clerk replied smoothly, closing the ledger with a faint smile. "But rest assured, it was a reputable bidder. Your payment will be processed shortly. Please wait here for a moment."

The clerk disappeared through a side door, leaving James and Ofelia standing in the quiet hum of the auction house. Ofelia remained close by, her posture submissive as her gaze flickered briefly around the room. James glanced at her, respecting her silence.

The clerk returned with the pouch of coins, setting it neatly on the counter. "After deducting the commission of two silver, here is your payment—one gold and twenty-two silver coins."

James took the pouch, feeling its weight with a satisfied smile. "Thanks. This was easier than expected."

As he secured the coins in his bag, an idea struck him. He glanced at Ofelia, who stood quietly nearby, then turned his attention back to the clerk. With a nod of acknowledgment, he prepared to leave.

As he stepped away from the counter, the familiar figure of Mason, the auction house's merchant specialist, approached him with his characteristic enthusiasm. Mason's sharp eyes lit up as he greeted James with a friendly nod.

"Back already, Mr. James?" Mason said, his voice carrying a touch of amusement. "I trust the pendant sold well?"

James smirked. "One gold and twenty-four silver. Not bad for a bronze trinket."

Mason chuckled, clearly pleased. "Not bad at all. I'm glad our transaction went so smoothly, and I'd appreciate it if you'd think of me should you come across any more treasures to tempt the bidders," he said, smiling and offering a slight bow.

"As a matter of fact," James replied smiling , "I've got three items I'd like to put up for auction."

Mason's eyes gleamed with interest. "Excellent. Let's not discuss them here." He gestured toward a discreet door at the side of the main hall. "Follow me. We'll examine them in private."

James nodded and motioned for Ofelia to follow. She obeyed silently, keeping her gaze lowered and her steps measured. Mason held the door open for them, leading the way into a small, well-lit room furnished with a sturdy table and several chairs. The walls were lined with shelves holding various tools and instruments for appraising items.

Once the door was closed, Mason turned to James with a grin. "All right, let's see what you've brought this time."

James activate his Item Box from inside the bag, as he retrieved the items. One by one, he placed them on the table: a Earthly Shard, a Copper Earring, and a Bronze Brooch. Each item glimmered faintly under the light, their enchantments giving them an otherworldly aura.

Mason's gaze sharpened as he examined the items. He picked up the Earthly Shard first, his fingers brushing over the smooth, crystalline surface. "A Earthly Shard," he murmured, clearly impressed. "Enhances earth-based spells or abilities. This is a prime ingredient for Magic Blacksmiths. They'll be scrambling over each other to get their hands on this. Estimated value… 40 to 50 silver coins at minimum. But with the right buyers, it could go much higher."

He set the shard down gently and reached for the Copper Earring. Turning it over in his hand, he smiled knowingly. "Endurance Boost, hmm? Perfect for combat classes—and let's not forget the nobles." He chuckled. "I know a few who would pay a fortune to 'perform better' in more personal… endeavors. Estimated value: 75 silver coins, but it might fetch more with the right audience."

Finally, Mason picked up the Bronze Brooch, his expression shifting to one of genuine delight. "Ah, a Boost to Intellect," he said, almost reverently. "This will have the mages and nobles reaching deep into their pockets. A standard value of 1.5 gold coins, but I wouldn't be surprised if it multiplies tenfold during bidding. Mages are always willing to pay through the nose for anything that makes their spells hit harder or last longer. Also noble who want their child to become mage, really loved those."

He carefully placed the brooch back on the table and clasped his hands together, beaming at James. "You've brought me a treasure trove, Mr. James. These items will draw a lot of attention, no doubt about it."

James nodded, pleased with Mason's assessment. "How soon can they go up for auction?"

"Tonight evening," Mason replied. "We'll ensure these are displayed prominently. With items like these, the bidding wars will be fierce."

"Good," James said, leaning back slightly. "As for the commission... since I want to see good results, let's go with 10% of the total price as a commission to you. That way, the more bids there are, the more we both profit, right? And I'll trust you to keep things professional."

"Of course," Mason replied, bowing slightly. "I'll personally oversee the process. You'll receive updates as soon as the auctions close."

Satisfied, James stood and nodded toward Ofelia, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange. "Let's get moving. Thanks, Mason."

"My pleasure, Mr. James. I look forward to seeing the results."

With that, James and Ofelia exited the room, stepping back into the bustling activity of the auction house. James glanced at Ofelia, who walked silently beside him, her posture as subdued as ever. He made a mental note to ensure she understood that she didn't need to act so reserved around him—not just yet, but eventually.

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As James and Ofelia exited the auction house, Mason lingered in the private room, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the table where James's items had been displayed in boxs lined with velour. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Three items of this quality, and 10% of commission" he mused aloud, his mind already racing with ideas. "This evening's auction is going to be interesting. Very interesting."

Mason wasn't one to let such an opportunity slip by. High-quality items like the Earthly Shard, Copper Earring with Endurance Boost, and especially the Bronze Brooch with Boost to Intellect were rare finds, and he knew exactly how to draw the right crowd to make the bids soar.

He stood abruptly, calling for an assistant. A young clerk entered the room, bowing slightly. "Yes, sir?"

"Prepare the messengers," Mason instructed, his tone brisk and confident. "I want word of this evening's auction delivered to specific individuals. Start with the usual contacts—every Magic Blacksmiths on our list, prominent nobles, and contact the Mages guild to make an announcement on their board in the next hour. I'll provide you with other specific names."

The clerk nodded and hurried off as Mason reached for a ledger filled with client details. He quickly jotted down names and addresses, his handwriting neat and precise. Each name was chosen with care: a renowned Magic Blacksmith who had been searching for a Earthly Shard to complete a commission, a wealthy baron notorious for his interest in enchanted jewelry, a high-ranking mage with a reputation for bidding extravagantly on anything that boosted intellect, etc.

Once the list was complete, Mason handed it to another assistant. "Ensure these messages are delivered immediately. Time is of the essence."

But Mason didn't stop there. He knew that whispers of exclusivity and high-quality goods could spark even greater interest among the merchant community. Heading into the main hall of the auction house, he sought out his fellow merchants, those with influence and a penchant for gossip.

Spotting a group of traders gathered near the entrance, he approached with an air of nonchalance, a sly grin on his face. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying just enough intrigue to catch their attention, "I hear tonight's auction will feature some rather exceptional items."

One of the merchants, a burly man with a thick beard, raised an eyebrow. "Exceptional, you say? What sort of items?"

"Oh, just a few things," Mason replied, his tone teasingly vague. "A Earthly Shard with a perfect Earth Magic Boost, for instance. Ideal for our friends in the Magic Blacksmiths' Guild. And then there's a Copper Earring that boosts endurance—practical for warriors, certainly, but I imagine some of the nobles might find… alternative uses for it." He winked, eliciting a few chuckles.

"And lastly, a Bronze Brooch that enhances intellect," Mason continued, lowering his voice slightly as if sharing a secret. "Perfect for any mage looking to outshine their rivals. I wouldn't be surprised if the bidding for that one becomes… spirited."

The merchants exchanged glances, their interest clearly piqued. "You're saying all this will be up for auction tonight? Here?" one of them asked.

"Indeed," Mason replied, clapping his hands together. "And I'd recommend spreading the word. It's not every day items like these come through our little auction house."

Satisfied that the rumor mill was already spinning, Mason spent the rest of the morning ensuring that the auction house's preparations were flawless. He instructed the staff to display the items prominently, with detailed descriptions highlighting their effects and potential uses. By the afternoon, word of the evening's auction had spread through the Merchant's Quarter like wildfire.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, Mason surveyed the growing crowd outside the auction house. Nobles in fine robes, mages in ornate cloaks, and craftsmen with calloused hands mingled with the usual bidders, their conversations buzzing with anticipation. Mason allowed himself a small smile.

"Let the show begin," he muttered under his breath, ready to oversee what promised to be a record-breaking auction.