9. Aria

9

ARIA

M y heart is still racing from the assassin attack as Kieran leads me deeper into Nightmarket. We have the aforementioned shadow-infused tea, and I can't help but to feel like I'm further and further past the point of no return.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins makes everything seem sharper, more vivid.

Or maybe it's the dark magic I've been exposed to.

Either way, I feel... alive. Terrifyingly so.

"Where to next?" I ask, surprised by the eagerness in my voice.

Kieran's smile is both thrilling and unnerving. "I believe it's time to outfit you properly, my dear. Follow me."

We approach a shop that seems to be made entirely of living shadow. The sign above the door shifts and writhes, eventually settling into the words "Shadowsmith's Forge."

Inside, the air is cool and thick, laden with the scent of night-blooming flowers and ancient magic. The proprietor, a tall and lithe fae with skin like polished obsidian and eyes that glitter like starlight, greets us with a graceful bow.

"My lord," he says in a voice that sounds like wind whispering through autumn leaves. "How may we serve you on this fine twilight?"

Kieran gestures to me. "My apprentice requires proper attire. Something... versatile."

The shadowsmith's eyes light up, quite literally, small constellations dancing in their depths. He glides away with otherworldly grace, his long fingers trailing wisps of shadow. He returns moments later, cradling what appears to be a cloak made of pure darkness.

"Try it on," Kieran urges, a hint of anticipation in his voice.

As I fasten the cloak around my shoulders, I gasp. It's like being embraced by the night itself, cool and comforting. I can feel it responding to my thoughts, shifting and changing as if alive.

"Think of blending in," Kieran instructs, his eyes gleaming with interest.

I concentrate, and suddenly, I can barely see myself. The cloak has transformed, seeming to bend light around me, turning me into a living shadow.

"Excellent," Kieran purrs, satisfaction evident in his tone. "This will serve you well in your... adventures."

The shadowsmith nods approvingly, his form seeming to flicker at the edges. "A fine choice, my lord. The cloak is woven from twilight shadows and midnight dreams. It will adapt to its wearer's needs and grow in power as she does."

I marvel at the cloak, running my hands over its impossible texture. It feels like liquid night, cool and endless.

"Thank you," I manage to say, still in awe of this magical garment.

The shadowsmith bows again, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "It is our pleasure to clothe the apprentice of the Demon King. May it serve you well in the shadows between worlds."

As we prepare to leave, I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror of black ice. For a moment, I hardly recognize the figure staring back at me - draped in living shadow, eyes glinting with newfound power. I'm becoming something new, something dangerous.

Our next stop is a place called "Fear Eater's Den." The scent of a thousand emotions hits me as we enter – joy, sorrow, rage, and things I can't even name.

"Welcome to the most exquisite collection of distilled emotions in all the realms," a smooth voice announces. The speaker is a tall, elegant fae with kaleidoscope eyes. "What's your poison?"

Kieran turns to me. "Why don't you choose, Aria? Trust your instincts."

I scan the shelves, drawn to a vial of swirling midnight blue liquid. "What's this one?" I ask.

The proprietor's smile widens. "Ah, excellent choice. That's pure, distilled terror. One drop will let you experience the most exquisite fear imaginable."

I hesitate for just a moment before nodding. "I'll try it."

Kieran raises an eyebrow but says nothing as the Fear Eater administers a single drop to my tongue.

The effect is immediate and overwhelming. My heart races, my palms sweat, and I'm gripped by a primal, all-consuming terror. But underneath it all is a strange exhilaration. When it passes, I'm left breathless and... hungry for more.

"Fascinating," Kieran murmurs. "Most first-timers can't handle pure terror. You continue to surprise me, Aria."

We sample a few more emotions – liquid courage, distilled sorrow, and even a drop of pure ecstasy. Each one leaves me feeling more alive, more connected to the dark energies around me. A small part of me is horrified at how much I'm enjoying this, but that voice grows weaker with each new experience.

As we leave the Fear Eater's Den, Kieran mentions my upcoming practical exam. "I'll admit, past your reward, you have midterm exams coming up which can be… challenging," he says, leading me to a shop called "Dungeon Delver's Emporium."

Inside, we select an array of tools – enchanted lockpicks that whisper the secrets of any lock, a compass that points towards the nearest danger… or treasure, depending on your perspective, and a bag of holding that can fit an impossible amount of loot.

As I examine a particularly nasty-looking curse component, Kieran places a hand on my shoulder. "Would you like to learn something... interesting?"

We step into the Dungeon Delver's Emporium, a shop that seems to exist in a pocket dimension of eternal twilight. The air is thick with the scent of leather, metal, and arcane energies. Shelves and display cases stretch into impossible distances, filled with gear that would make any adventurer salivate.

The proprietor, a grizzled old faerie with skin like weathered bark and eyes that have seen a thousand dungeons, nods to us in greeting. "Welcome, Lord Kieran. What manner of delving brings you to my humble establishment today?"

Kieran's lips curl into a small smile. "Outfitting my apprentice for her first serious expedition."

The old faerie's eyes light up as they land on me. "Ah, fresh blood. Well then, let's see what we can do for the young lady."

As we browse, Kieran pauses by a display of enchanted scrolls. "Aria, come here. There's something you should learn before we proceed."

I approach eagerly, and he begins to teach me a hex right there in the shop. It's complex, requiring precise movements and words that seem to slither off my tongue. But somehow, I grasp it quickly.

"Now, try it on that," Kieran says, pointing to a practice dummy made of enchanted wood.

I focus, channeling the dark energy as he taught me. The words of the hex flow from my lips, my hands weaving the intricate patterns. Suddenly, the dummy begins to wither and decay, crumbling into dust before our eyes.

The rush of power is intoxicating. I stand there, breathless, staring at my hands in wonder and a touch of fear.

"Magnificent," Kieran breathes, his eyes glowing with approval and something darker. "You're a natural, my dear."

The old faerie whistles, impressed. "She's got talent, that one. Now, let's get her properly equipped, shall we?"

We spend the next hour selecting gear. I try on a pair of supple leather boots, imbued with charms for silent movement and sure footing. They fit like a second skin, and I can feel the magic thrumming through them.

"These are blessed by the Twilight Striders," the proprietor explains. "They'll never lose their way, even in the darkest of mazes."

Next comes a new cloak, deeper and darker than the night sky, with a hood that seems to swallow light. "Woven from shadow-spider silk," Kieran murmurs appreciatively. "It'll turn aside both blade and spell."

We also select a pack that seems to swallow everything we put into it without growing heavier or fuller. "Bottomless," the old faerie grins. "Well, nearly. Don't go trying to stuff a dragon in there."

As we prepare to leave, laden with our new acquisitions, Kieran turns to me. "Well, my dear? How do you feel?"

I look down at myself, clad in gear that would make the most seasoned adventurer envious. The hex he taught me still tingles at my fingertips, ready to be unleashed. I meet his gaze, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"Like I could take on the world," I reply, surprising myself with the confidence in my voice.

Our final destination is "The Nightmare Menagerie." As soon as we enter, I'm overwhelmed by the cacophony of otherworldly sounds. Cages line the walls, containing creatures that defy description.

"Every great magician needs a familiar," Kieran explains, his voice low and intense. "Something that resonates with your essence. Choose wisely."

I wander the shop, peering into cages. There are shadow cats with too many eyes, birds made of living smoke, and even tiny dragons that breathe multicolored flames. But none of them feel... right.

Then, in a corner, I spot something. It looks like a small fox made of swirling darkness, with stars glittering in its fur. As I approach, it lifts its head and stares at me with eyes like silver moons.

"That one," I say, certainty filling my voice.

The shopkeeper, a wizened fae with antlers sprouting from his temples, looks surprised. "Are you sure? That's a cosmic shadow fox. They're... challenging to bond with."

But I'm already opening the cage. The fox leaps into my arms, its form cool and insubstantial, yet undeniably there. I feel a connection forming instantly, like a piece of myself I never knew was missing has finally clicked into place.

As I cradle the fox, I feel its consciousness brush against mine. Images flood my mind – vast cosmic voids, the dance of celestial bodies, the ebb and flow of shadow realms. I understand, instinctively, that this creature is far more than just a magical pet. It's a conduit to realms beyond mortal comprehension.

"An excellent choice," Kieran says, a note of respect in his voice. "It suits you."

The fox - no, my familiar - nuzzles into my neck, its fur cool and soft as stardust. I can feel it already attuning to my magical essence, our energies intertwining.

"What will you name it?" Kieran asks as we leave the shop.

I consider for a moment, letting the fox's otherworldly nature wash over me. "Nova," I decide. "Its fur reminds me of a newborn star."

As we make our way back to Ravencrest, Nova curled around my shoulders like a living scarf, I realize how much I've changed in just one night. The girl who entered Nightmarket feels like a stranger now. In her place is someone new, someone darker, more powerful.

Part of me mourns that innocent girl. But a larger part, growing stronger by the moment, relishes this transformation. I've tasted real power tonight, and I want more.

I can feel Nova's agreement, a soft purr in the back of my mind. It shows me visions of the magic we could work together, the realms we could explore. The possibilities are intoxicating.

Kieran watches me with a mixture of pride and wariness. "How do you feel?" he asks as Ravencrest's imposing silhouette comes into view.

I consider for a moment, then smile. It's not a nice smile. "Hungry," I reply, feeling Nova's eager agreement.

His answering grin is equal parts thrilling and terrifying. "Good," he purrs. "We've only just begun."

As we pass through Ravencrest's gates, I stroke Nova's ethereal fur, marveling at how its colors shift like cosmic nebulae. The familiar's presence amplifies my newfound powers. I can feel shadows responding to my will more readily, and the whispers of cosmic secrets seem clearer.

The darkness no longer frightens me. Now, with Nova by my side and the taste of real power on my tongue, it feels like home. I walk with Kieran to his chambers, my mind buzzing with plans for the future. Nova leaps onto a settee in his living quarters and curls up, his eyes glowing with shared excitement.

Even as Kieran and I chat about our day out, I can't help but catch my reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at me is changed. There's a new confidence in her posture, a glimmer of otherworldly knowledge in her eyes. Nova appears in the reflection, its starry form complimenting my new, darker aura perfectly.

I smile at my reflection, and for a moment, I swear I see shadows swirling behind me as if welcoming me home. With Nova by my side, I feel ready to face whatever challenges this new world has to offer.