The market smelled of burning incense and rotting cabbage.
Ahri wrapped her cloak around her nine tails and fiddled with her twin sunstone tokens to distract herself from the stench, rolling them between her fingers and snapping them together. Each one had the shape of a blazing flame, but they were carved in such a way that their sharper edges fit together, forming a perfectly smooth orb. She had carried the golden stones since before she could remember, though she had no knowledge of their origin.
Though Ahri was in a new environment, she was comforted by the latent magic buzzing all around her. She passed a stand with dozens of woven baskets filled to the brim with polished rocks, shells etched with legends from a seafaring tribe, gambling dice carved from bones, and other curious items. Nothing matched the style of Ahri's sculpted tokens.
"Care for a gem to match the blue of the skies?" asked the gray-bearded merchant. "For you, I'll trade a cerulean bauble for the cost of a single cryraven feather, or perhaps the seed of a jubji tree. I'm flexible."
Ahri smiled at him, but shook her head and continued through the market, sunstones in hand. She passed a stand covered in spiky orange vegetables, a child selling fruit that shifted color with the weather, and at least three peddlers swinging tins of incense, each of whom claimed to have discovered the deepest form of meditation.
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"Fortunes! Come get your fortunes told!" called a young woman with lavender eyes and a soft jawline. "Find out who you'll fall in love with, or how to avoid unlucky situations with a pinch of burdock root. Or if you'd prefer your future left to the gods, I'll answer a question about your past. Though I do recommend finding out whether or not you're at risk for death by poisoning."
A tall vastaya with feline ears was about to take a bite of a spiced pastry. He froze and stared at the fortune teller in alarm.
"The answer is no, by the way. Yours for free," she said, curtsying at him before turning to Ahri. "Now, you look like you've had a dark and mysterious past. Or at least some tales worth sharing. Any burning questions for me, lady?"
Beneath heavy layers of incense, Ahri paused at the scent of wet fur and spiced leather lingering at the woman's neck.
"Thank you, but no," she replied. "I'm still looking around."
"You won't find any more Ymelo tokens in this market, I'm afraid," the woman said, nodding to Ahri's sunstones. "Like the ones you have."
The back of Ahri's neck prickled and she drew closer to the woman. She would not let her excitement get the better of her. "Do you recognize these? Where do they come from?"
The woman eyed Ahri.
"I think they're Ymelos, anyway," she said. "Never seen a pair in person. He only carved a small number in his time, and many of the sets were separated in the war. Dead rare, those."
