Buried Emeralds

Chapter 1: Ghost

My fingers mindlessly brushed past the various objects, a carefree smile on my face as I took in the beauty of every delicate item that adorned the shelf.

"You forgot the sauce!" yelled Mr. Frances from the backroom.

"No I didn't, Mr. Frances!" I called back, rolling my eyes while chuckling slightly, "I specifically asked them for extra!"

I had brought him lunch, like I always do on my lunch breaks every Friday. Mr. Frances was a 40-something year old man who owned the antique shop that I am currently in. He was the sweetest person ever, even after everything he went through, from losing his wife and parents on the same day to having to quit his job and take care of the family business at just twenty two.

Business was pretty good from what I saw, considering he lived in a mansion in the outskirts of the city, but I'm pretty sure living alone gets boring after a while. He did date quite a lot, but none of them could quite fill the hole in his heart.

A few seconds later he came back from the room, one hand carrying the sandwich wrap I had gotten him and the other carrying the sauce to dip it in.

"It was in your hand wasn't it?"

"It was in my hand."

We both said at the same time before bursting into a fit of giggles.

I went back to looking through the shelves for anything interesting will Mr. Frances started eating his sandwich, very noisily might I add.

My eyes stopped at a bracelet, with a single emerald in the middle and silver arrows coming out of either sides with intricate detailing on them. The Arrows ended with a small distance between them so that it was easier to put on.

"Woah," I said softly.

"That's an actual emerald," Mr. Frances said through a mouthful of food, "And the detailing is ancient runes of protection, power and healing from the 15th century."

I nodded slightly, still entranced by it as my finger moved to touch the emerald, which glowed slightly at my touch.

Wait. It glowed?

I shook myself out of my daze, eyebrows furrowed together as I though about what I saw.

No, it's probably just the sunlight. Or maybe only getting three hours of sleep every night is finally taking it's toll on me.

"Did you-," I looked back at Mr. Frances to check if he saw what I thought I did, only to see him happily munching away at the sandwich with a content smile on his face, "Nevermind."

I looked back at the bracelet, staring cynically at the bracelet for a while before brushing it of as my mind playing tricks on me.

"How much is the bracelet?" I asked, without looking back at Mr. Frances.

"Oh don't worry about it, it's on the house."

I stared back at him, "What? No it's-"

"It's the least I can do for you after all the lunches you've brought me," He assured me.

I smiled at him, deciding to take it, "Thank you Mr. Frances."

He groaned, "Lydia, I've told you a million times! Call me Danny."

"Okay, Mr. Frances."

He groaned again as I smirked at him, "I'll call you Danny when you stop calling me Lydia. I mean, come on, how is it even a nickname when it has the same amount of syllables as Adelaide?!"

"Then what am I supposed to call you?" He asked, starting to walk backto the counter after having picked up the bracelet.

"I don't know, Addy? Like everyone else?" I said giving him a look as I followed behind.