Xhaelyn paused in front of Grey's house—a modest structure with crisp angles and clean lines, its minimalist design echoing the architecture of Earth. It blended in with the surrounding buildings, yet something about it always caught her eye.
She stared a little too long, again.
"Xhae. It's been two months, yet you still look at my house like it's going to grow wings. Should I start charging you per minute?"
Xhaelyn blinked, pulled from her thoughts. Grey sat in her wheelchair beside her, a familiar smirk curling at the edges of her lips.
"Sister Grey," Xhaelyn muttered, casting her a sideways glance.
The girl in the wheelchair wasn't ill—but her body was undeniably fragile. She was like fine crystal—fragile in form, but sharp enough to cut if you weren't careful. But her resilience? That was something else entirely. She'd taken Xhaelyn in the very day they met, without hesitation or question.
Such kindness… it felt out of place in this world.
Especially from a girl so sarcastic, so lazy, so deceptively frail.
"What? Don't tell me you're still poor."
Xhaelyn responded with a dry chuckle. Grey hadn't just given her shelter, food, and clothes—she'd provided something far more valuable: the knowledge to survive in this world.
She pushed Grey's wheelchair toward the front door, her movements casual, practiced.
"I've been trying to grow your business. Yet, I'm still poor. Any idea why, Lazy Boss?"
"Why ask me?" Grey yawned. "And don't 'Lazy Boss' me. I'm your elder sister. Also, it's 'our' business."
In just two months, their bond had grown at the speed of light—right alongside Xhaelyn's emotional growth.
Grey had shortened her name to "Xhae" almost instantly, as if calling someone by their full name took more energy than it was worth.
Xhaelyn never corrected her.
Grey had been bossing her around like an older sibling ever since she learned she was a year older than Xhaelyn. Surprisingly, she wasn't even ten—just nine.
Xhaelyn hadn't complained. Not just because of the kindness Grey had shown her, but because she saw it as a form of repayment. Still, Grey being Grey, eventually began teasing her to call her "elder sister."
Xhaelyn had been reluctant, but after enough lectures about etiquette and respect, she gave in—sort of. Instead of "Elder Sister," she settled on "Sister Grey."
Over time, the title stuck, carved into their daily lives like a quiet ritual.
Maybe in this strange new world, being called something familiar by someone who treated her like family… felt like comfort. Grey had brought a strange but unexpectedly warm sense of belonging.
Inside the house, the air was warm with the faint scent of parchment and herbs. The walls were lined with shelves—not of food or weapons, but scrolls, tomes, and strange crystalline storage cubes. A map of the 12 Dominions hung on one wall, dotted with thumbtacks, notes pinned with tiny glyph-marked paper strips.
It had taken Xhaelyn a while to understand that Grey's stall wasn't just a place for selling odd magical items—it was also an information hub.
No… not just information. Insight.
Grey had an unnerving grasp on what was happening across Ozyria and even beyond. Political tensions, underground rumors, movement of guilds, changes in trade routes, even confidential whispers between Dominion elites—somehow, she knew them all.
It was like she had an invisible web spun through the world, with threads leading back to her little stall. Or like she'd installed CCTVs across the dominions. At times, it felt like Grey had the entire Library of Eryndral archived inside her skull.
It wasn't long before Xhaelyn realized: this wasn't a girl simply selling trinkets—she was selling secrets. And that made her stall more dangerous—and more valuable—than it looked.
But despite all that potential, Grey's business remained small. Quiet. Contained.
At first, Xhaelyn assumed it was due to Grey's weak constitution. She rarely left the stall or her house unless necessary, and her thin frame couldn't withstand long days out in the cold or heat.
Yet... that wasn't the whole story.
As weeks passed, Xhaelyn pieced together the truth.
Even if Grey were perfectly healthy, even if she could walk the dominions and build a network the size of a guild...
She wouldn't.
Not because she lacked ambition—but because she was, at her core, too lazy to care about expansion.
Grey preferred staying in one place. She liked routine, silence, sleeping in late, and only talking to customers smart enough—or desperate enough—to find her. Scaling up meant more people, more noise, more chaos—and Grey had no interest in inviting any of that into her world.
Xhaelyn understood that. She had once longed for a normal, peaceful life, too.
Such sharp intelligence, wasted on passivity.
But then again, not everyone wanted to climb ladders.
Some people just wanted peace.
And Grey… was one of those rare few who had carved out her peace, hidden in plain sight, under a stall that most people walked right past.
Over two months, Xhaelyn had learned a great deal about Grey's business and network. But not once had Grey shared anything about her personal life—why she was alone, how she knew so much, or what her Unique ability was.
She didn't ask. She respected Grey's silence, and Grey respected hers.
"Hey. You're spacing out again. What's on your mind?"
Grey's low, lazy voice pulled her back—again.
Xhaelyn opened her mouth to answer, but Grey beat her to it.
"Don't bother. I'm sleepy."
Xhaelyn's eye twitched.
Then, a thought surfaced.
"Sister Grey," she said. "I want to expand our business to Duskar Dominion."
Grey lazily cracked one eye open and studied her. "Oh?"
She remembered Xhaelyn mentioning that she was from the Duskar Dominion. With a mind far beyond her years, Grey immediately understood the true reason: unfinished business.
Grey didn't know why Xhaelyn left her home-dominion, or which city she came from, but after living with her for two months, she was fairly certain of one thing—Xhaelyn was an orphan.
The Duskar Dominion was dangerous—especially some of its cities.
"That's not a small dominion," Grey murmured, her usual lazy tone layered with implication.
Xhaelyn caught it immediately. "In City K," she said.
So she's from there, huh? Grey mused. That's a complicated city.
"City K was dominated by the Steelwards Mercenaries."
Xhaelyn stared at her, sharp eyes catching a flicker of expression on Grey's face. A rare, fleeting crease of her brow—signaling something complicated, something irritating enough to momentarily break through her usual apathy.
What was so complex about City K?
Maybe the Steelwards' connection to the human traffickers, she wondered.
Suddenly, Xhaelyn's eyes narrowed. "Was?"
"Do you know Worz? The Steelwards' captain? He was working with a human trafficking group. Apparently, he asked them to help stage the abduction of a child from the Crimsonclaw Mercenaries. That way, he wouldn't be held responsible—and he could use the child as leverage. Dirty move, but still within their twisted code of 'their domain, their rules.'"
She paused to study Xhaelyn's face, then continued.
"But the branch leader of the trafficking ring realized during the capture that the kid was a prodigy. A high-quality 'product,' in their words. He ignored Worz's request and took the child to be shipped to City A."
Grey shrugged.
"Worz threw a fit. Demanded the kid be returned. Insulted the traffickers. Thought he had enough value to make demands because of their past cooperation. But now? He's their puppet."
Xhaelyn's eyes darkened.
Yes, she had grown comfortable here. Yes, Grey had brought peace and warmth.
But she had never forgotten why she escaped from the human traffickers, as soon as she saw an opportunity.
She had only planned to stay in Ozyria long enough to stabilize herself—then return to City K.
To pay back Crimsonclaw's kindness.
And make Worz pay what he owed her.
Now that she understood the situation more clearly, the fire in her heart only burned hotter. More dangerous. More certain.
The traffickers? She wouldn't interfere—unless they interfered with her.
But Worz?
She would make him pay. And maybe—double the price.
Grey watched her quietly, then let out a sigh.
"She's not gonna let this go," she muttered, half-amused, half-resigned.
That thought worried her—but only for a second.
"No dinner in sight, but I'm still feeding you information? That'll be two Lira."
Xhaelyn's eye twitched. "I thought we were sisters."
"We are. Business is business."
Xhaelyn's eye twitched again. "Lazy Boss, that's daylight robbery."