7. Aria

7

ARIA

I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling of my dormitory room, feeling utterly drained. Kieran's "remedial lessons" have left me a hollow shell, the surge of power I experienced now nothing but a fading memory. My body aches, and my mind feels stretched beyond its limits, snapping back into a shape that doesn't quite fit my head anymore.

The horrors of my studies linger at the edges of my consciousness. Every time I close my eyes, I see flashes of that endless, putrid swamp, feel the tendrils of muck trying to drag me under. The faces beneath the surface, contorted in agony or malicious glee haunting me. I force my eyes open, fighting against the exhaustion that threatens to pull me back into those dark memories.

But mixed with the terror is something else. A sense of... accomplishment? Pride? I survived. More than that, I overcame. I faced my deepest fears and emerged victorious. The memory of that surge of power, of bending reality itself to my will, is intoxicating.

And terrifying.

What am I becoming? The girl who stepped through that portal into Ravencrest feels like a stranger now. I flex my fingers, half expecting to see shadows dance across my skin. Nothing happens, of course. Whatever power I tapped into during Kieran's test seems to have retreated, leaving me feeling more vulnerable than ever.

My brooding is by a sharp rap at the door. Before either of us can respond, it swings open, revealing one of Kieran's shadow servants. Its form ripples and shifts, never quite settling on a definite shape.

"Miss Aria," it says in a voice like rustling leaves, "Lord Kieran requests your presence. You are to accompany him to Nightmarket. Prepare yourself and meet him at the gates in one hour."

With that, it dissolves into wisps of shadow.

"Nightmarket?" I whisper, a mix of fear and excitement bubbling up in my chest.

As I prepare, my mind races with possibilities. Why is Kieran taking me there? Is this a reward for surviving his test, or just another, more elaborate trial? And why do I feel equal parts terrified and thrilled at the prospect?

An hour later, I stand at the gates of Ravencrest, my heart pounding. I've done my best to make myself presentable, but I still feel disheveled and out of place. When Kieran appears, gliding out of the shadows as if born from them, I have to resist the urge to shrink back.

"Ah, Aria," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "Ready for a little excursion?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. With a wave of his hand, the gates swing open, revealing a path I've never seen before. It winds down the mountain, disappearing into a bank of swirling mist.

As we descend, the mist parts, revealing our destination. My breath catches in my throat.

Nightmarket sprawls before us, a twisted fairytale come to life. Impossible architecture stretches towards the star-studded sky – spires that spiral in defiance of gravity, buildings that seem to breathe, streets that shift and change as I watch. Lights of every color imaginable dance through the air, some following discernible paths, others moving with chaotic abandon.

The sounds and smells hit me next – a cacophony of music and voices in languages I've never heard, scents that range from mouth-wateringly delicious to stomach-churningly foul.

"Welcome," Kieran says, a note of pride in his voice, "to Nightmarket."

As we step into the town proper, I'm overwhelmed by the sheer sensory overload. Creatures of every description throng the streets – beautiful and terrible, mundane and utterly alien. A group of pixies, their wings glittering like stained glass, flit past us giggling. A lumbering ogre haggles with a merchant whose body seems to be made entirely of clockwork.

I stick close to Kieran, acutely aware of the looks we're attracting. Some are curious, others hostile, and more than a few predatory.

"Stay close," Kieran murmurs, placing a hand on the small of my back. The touch sends a shiver through me – fear or excitement, I'm not sure which. Maybe both.

As we make our way deeper into Nightmarket, I'm torn between the urge to flee back to the relative safety of Ravencrest and the desire to explore every nook and cranny of this fascinating, terrifying place.

"Where are we going?" I manage to ask, my voice barely audible over the bustling market sounds.

Kieran's smile is enigmatic, with just a hint of fang. "To reward you, my dear. You've earned it."

As we turn down a darker, quieter alley, anticipation and dread war within me. What kind of reward does a being like Kieran consider appropriate? And more importantly, what will be the price?

"Well, well, well," a voice chimes, making me jump. "What have we here? A little mortal and Sir Gravewood! How delightful!"

From behind a tower of precariously stacked books emerges the strangest being I've ever seen. She appears to be a fae or changeling, with an otherworldly beauty that's both alluring and unsettling.

Her skin shimmers with an iridescent sheen, shifting colors like oil on water. Her hair is a wild mane of what seems to be living smoke, curling and twisting of its own accord. She moves with an ethereal grace, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground.

Most striking are her eyes - they're large and almond-shaped, their color constantly shifting between every hue imaginable. When she looks at me, I feel as if she's peering straight into my soul.

She's dressed in a gown that seems to be woven from moonlight and shadows, adorned with strange symbols that hurt my eyes if I look at them too long. Around her neck hangs an assortment of charms and talismans, each one stranger than the last.

"Zyx," Kieran says, nodding in greeting. "We're here for-"

"Oh, I know why you're here, you old scoundrel," Zyx interrupts, her voice a melodious blend of wind chimes and rustling leaves. She turns her mesmerizing gaze on me, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. "You must be Aria. My, my, aren't you an interesting one? Hexeblood, is it? With a dash of... ooh, now that is intriguing."

I glance at Kieran, unsure how to respond. He gives me a slight nod, so I clear my throat and say, "Um, yes. I'm Aria. It's... nice to meet you?"

Zyx lets out a peal of laughter that sounds like a spring breeze through crystal chimes. "Oh, she's adorable! Kieran, where did you find this one? No, don't tell me, let me guess. Plucked from the mortal realm, thrust into our world of twilight and wonder. How positively cliché of you, darling."

Kieran's expression darkens slightly. "Zyx, we're here for-"

"Yes, yes, a gift for the little hexeblood," Zyx says, her eyes swirling with mischief. "Well, dearie, what catches your fancy? A grimoire bound in the whispers of forgotten dreams? A wand carved from the heartwood of the World Tree? Ooh, how about a nice set of enchanted tarot cards? They only predict the most delightfully twisted fates!"

My head spins as I try to process the options. "I... I'm not sure. What would you recommend?"

Zyx's grin widens, revealing teeth that seem just a bit too sharp. "Ooh, dangerous question, that. My recommendations tend to be a bit... unpredictable. How about this?"

She reaches into what seems to be a fold in reality itself and pulls out a small, ornate box. "A music box that plays the song of your heart's deepest desire. Warning: listening too long may drive you to madness or ecstasy. Sometimes both!"

I reach for it, fascinated, but Kieran clears his throat. "Perhaps something more... practical, Zyx."

"Spoilsport," Zyx pouts, her lower lip quivering in a way that defies physics. "Fine, fine. Let's see... Ah! Perfect for a budding dreamweaver."

She produces a set of crystal vials filled with swirling, iridescent liquid. "Distilled essence of nightmares and dreams. Excellent for practice or for, shall we say, influencing others. Use responsibly! Or don't. I'm not your fairy godmother."

The vials are beautiful and terrifying. I can almost hear whispers coming from them, promises and threats intertwined. "They're amazing," I breathe.

"An excellent choice," Kieran says, approval in his voice.

"Wonderful!" Zyx claps her hands together, sparks of magic dancing between her fingers. "Now, as for payment-"

"Put it on my account," Kieran interrupts smoothly.

Zyx's eyes narrow, swirling with dark colors. "Oh no, no, no. You know the rules, Kieran. The recipient must pay the price."

My heart races. "What... What kind of price?"

Zyx's grin turns predatory, reminding me that for all her whimsy, she's a dangerous creature of Faerie. "Nothing too steep, dearie. Just a little memory. Your first kiss, perhaps? Or maybe the last time you felt truly safe in your old world?"

I hesitate, the weight of the decision heavy on my shoulders. Is it worth it? To give up a piece of myself for this power?

"Choose wisely, Aria," Kieran murmurs. "But remember, power always comes at a cost."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "My first kiss," I say firmly. "That's my offer."

"Done!" Zyx exclaims gleefully. She reaches out with a hand that seems to shimmer in and out of reality, touching my forehead lightly. For a moment, I feel a strange tugging sensation in my mind. Then... nothing. I know I've lost something, but I can't quite remember what.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Zyx says, handing me the vials. Her voice carries an undercurrent of satisfaction, like a cat that's gotten the cream. "Do come again. It's not often I get such interesting customers."

As we leave the shop, the vials cool against my palm, I can't shake the feeling that I've just crossed a line I can never uncross. Kieran's hand on my shoulder is both reassuring and unsettling.

"You did well," he says softly. "Now, shall we see what other wonders Nightmarket has to offer?"

I nod, my voice failing me. As we step back into the bustling streets, I clutch my new acquisition close, wondering what other prices I'll have to pay before this night is through.