“Who was that man?” the robed, long-eared woman asked. “He was dressed rather strangely.”
Despite the unexpected encounter, Princess Lynneburg of the Kingdom of Clays and her companions were informed that the auction would proceed as planned. So, they continued into the venue, weaving through the stream of other participants. Here and there, they spotted some of those blown into the walls by the earlier windstorm—though, strangely enough, they appeared completely unruffled.
“That was Zadu,” the princess explained. “He’s attacked us several times before. Instructor Noor always managed to fend him off, but...”
“From the look of things, this ‘Zadu’ pulled one over on him this time. That black slab he took—the thing reminiscent of a signboard... It’s important to Noor, isn’t it?”
“The Black Blade, you mean? Yes, it’s very important. I don’t doubt for a second that he will retrieve it, and yet...” Lynne hesitated, her expression dour. “I cannot help but worry.”
A young man—one of the princess’s companions—caught the group’s attention with a shrug, a rueful tinge to his ever-present grin. “Noor took his money with him. Every last coin we had was tucked into that Wallet of Mountainous Storage. Those were meant to be our funds for the auction.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” the long-eared woman announced with a carefree smile. “Our objectives are one and the same—and as that kind old butler informed us, I’ve been using a credit system for years. Lynne, I’ll lend you as much money as you need, without interest, so spend to your heart’s desire!”
“Thank you, Astirra. I shall gratefully impose upon you,” the princess replied. “However, there’s another concern on my mind...”
“What’s that?”
“Instructor Noor asked me to ‘handle the auction,’ then took his money with him. It must be some kind of message—one I’ve yet to decipher.”
“Are you sure he didn’t just forget?”
“No, that’s not possible. There’s always a deeper meaning behind Instructor Noor’s actions. He never acts without intent.”
The long-eared woman blinked. “Huh? Really?”
“Don’t let his appearance deceive you—his mind is deeper than most can fathom. But never has he failed to guide us toward the right decision.”
“Are you sure about that?” Astirra asked, no less taken aback. But before Lynne could respond, an usher stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
“Dear guests, if you’ll follow me...”
“Oh, um, thank you,” the long-eared woman said, her eyes drifting over the venue. “Wow, this place is even larger than I expected.”
Lynne’s group followed the usher, finally setting foot in the auction venue proper. It resembled a theatre, with a stage occupying the central space at one end. If anything about it felt small, it was only relative to the enormity of the building’s exterior.
“The auction will begin shortly,” the usher informed them. “In the meantime, please relax and enjoy the refreshments provided.”
The princess and her companions were led to a large, round table at the center of the venue, finely carved from thick wood. It was ringed by seats and set with drinks in transparent glasses.
“These are good seats,” the long-eared woman opined. “Right in the center, with a perfect view of the stage. And they even prepared drinks for us. This place has excellent service.”
Lynne’s expression darkened. “Nevertheless,” she murmured, “I get the distinct sense that we aren’t welcome here...”
“Oh? You’ve noticed it too, Lady Lynneburg?” Rashid said, wearing his usual grin.
“What’s got you two so worried?” Astirra asked, then paused. “Hmm? Is it just me, or is there something beneath us? Can you feel it, Tirrence?”
“Yes, mother.” A boy who bore a striking resemblance to the long-eared woman smiled and took a seat, examining his surroundings through narrowed eyes. “It would appear there are a number of concealed presences throughout the venue. They’re positioned to surround us.”
“Oh. I suppose that explains the good seats—not that I really mind.”
“Your Holy Highnesses have sharp senses indeed,” Rashid said. “What you’re sensing beneath us is most likely an assortment of security golems. Normally, there would be no need for such stringent precautions against guests, but given the recent history of a certain individual in our group...” He paused. “Not that he’s present at the moment.”
“Did Noor get into trouble on your way here?”
The young man laughed. “Indeed, he did. All kinds of it.”
The robe-wearing woman shook her head incredulously as she reached for a drink. “You must have had it rough, Lynne.”
“Indeed, we have,” the princess agreed. “Forgive me for involving you.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m far too used to sticky situations by now.” Astirra turned to her son. “Tirrence, you simply must try this drink. It’s delightful.”
“If you insist, mother.”
“You won’t regret it.”
Holy Prince Tirrence smiled ruefully as he took one of the glasses from the table. The woman playing the part of his mother seemed completely at ease with their surroundings, while the girl sitting near her remained contemplative.
“Something about the other participants doesn’t seem right,” Lynne remarked. “Those who were blown into the walls earlier look completely unbothered.”
“Presumably because they’re not from House Sarenza,” Rashid explained. “It’s strange—while agents are commonly employed during auctions, this tends to be more of a family event than anything else. Ordinarily, all the seats would be taken by my relatives.”
“But today, the venue’s full of people you don’t recognize?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say everyone here is an actor, a sellsword, or a well-trained golem operator.”
“I see. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Dear me... And after so many of their primal golems were destroyed. It seems they never learn. I can admire their resilience, at least. And I suppose their judgment wasn’t entirely mistaken, since Noor isn’t here at the moment. What shall we do, Lady Lynneburg? As it stands, we might as well have knives pressed to our throats.”
“Nothing,” the princess said. “Not until they’ve made their move.”
Rashid chuckled. “Once again, your unassuming appearance belies a daringly intrepid heart.”
Lynne’s grim expression stood in stark contrast to the mother-son pair, who looked far more relaxed.
Suddenly, lights across the ceiling sprang to life, as if the roof had opened and sunlight were pouring through. A woman’s voice echoed throughout the theatre-like venue.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you for your patience. Welcome to House Sarenza’s private auction—by House Sarenza, at House Sarenza, for House Sarenza.”
The hostess stood upon the illuminated stage. She bowed to the audience and smiled as brightly as the lights above.
“We extend our gratitude to our fortunate guests who have gathered for this occasion. The rare and unusual goods up for auction today, gathered from every corner of the world expressly for your pleasure, can be found in no other market. Please take the time to appreciate them and, if the inclination takes you, to bid on any you would like to take home. Lastly, as we have first-time participants today, I shall give a brief overview of the auction’s proceedings. Please examine the back of your participant’s coin. There, you should find engraved your credit ranking and participant number.”
“Credit ranking...?” Lynne wondered aloud.
“A simple evaluation of your financial muscle, so to speak—as judged by the auction’s hosts,” Rashid explained. “Noor must have roughly as much in assets as Her Holy Highness, so you should have no shortage of credit to work with. What does the engraving say?”
“‘Unlimited.’”
“In that case, you should be able to compete on equal footing with any other participant in the venue.”
“Should you wish to bid on an item, please raise your coin so that I, your host, can see the back, and indicate the price you wish to pay. You may use hand signals or simply call out. That concludes my explanation. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the auction!”
After a polite round of applause, the first item of the day was brought onto the stage in an oversized crate. The audience breathed a collective sigh of admiration—though it seemed rather performative, if one paid close attention.
“To kick things off, our first listing is the Great Saint’s Tears—a vanishingly rare magical item, enchanted with a blessing of continuous health and beauty for its owner. Originally from the Dungeon of Oblivion, this item will start at a price of one hundred million gald. Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot wait to see your keen financial acuity in action. Begin!”
Rashid wore a cool grin, watching the other guests gleefully drive up the price of the item onstage. “Do you not intend to join them, Lady Lynneburg?” he asked.
The girl seated next to him looked distinctly more bitter as the price rose to greater and greater heights. “Not in the slightest” was her reply.
“Two hundred million gald from number eighteen. Ah, I see three hundred million. Is there anyone else? Yes—four hundred fifty million from number twenty-four. Six hundred million from the madam in the back! Are there any other bids? Don’t hold back—everyone is welcome to participate!”
Several more bids were placed, through calls or other signals, before the venue went still. The silence was broken by the sharp sound of a wooden gavel.
“Congratulations to participant number twenty-four, who wins the Great Saint’s Tears with a bid of 1.22 billion gald. May your beauty be further blessed, madam. Now, on to our next listing. This enchanted Divine Spear of Earth comes with a written letter of guarantee from a first-rate craftsman, and—”