Spring 86, 511
A spread of blades shone in the high noon sun, less than brilliantly. Most of them were decorative, on the verge of garishness, but those that were not were labelled in her price range. A plainly dressed eypharian woman stood on the buyer’s side of the stall, a pair of arms in incredulous akimbo while another held a ceremonially gilded khopesh. She moved it to the light, frowning, then pulled it into her own shadow. Her inspection seemed to unnerve the young merchant across the table, who ultimately said nothing.
Serasia set the weapon down again to pick up a simple dagger. She turned it over in her hands, trying to identify the methods in which it was made under the guise of an interest in buying. While a jeweler at heart, she had some experience with metalworking and had recently considered delving into the art of weaponsmithing. Her eyes ultimately strayed to the hilt, around which a swirl of silver boasted an almost ocean-like fluidity. She could not have replicated the technique in a bracelet, much less a blade. She interpreted her envy as scrutiny. The words slipped from her mouth before she could realize they were inappropriate: “How do you make the silver shine like it does?”
The girl replied tiredly, “I do not. My mother makes them.”
“Of course she does.” replied Serasia. She remembered being in that same position at that same age, just as appreciative of her mother's art. Now, it was all she thought about. With stoic grace framing the tinges of embarrassment below her eyes, she set down the dagger and moved on.
OOCEdited for accuracy now that the Street of Emeralds is up.