Precious Info  

The mysterious old man had barely stepped out when the vibe in Nia's shop warmed up. Areyos and his friends hung around, their laughter bouncing off the polished wooden walls. Around a table cluttered with crumbs and empty cups, they got lost in random talks—about their races, their governments, dumb stories—surrounded by the sweet smell of pastries still lingering in the air. Time slipped away with their loud voices and the clink of spoons against porcelain. Outside, the sun had died out, sinking Baringer into a soft darkness, its cobblestone streets faintly glowing under lantern light. They finally left the shop after a big meal from Nia. Sorey and Keldo slipped into the night, their heavy steps echoing toward their usual training spot. The rest kept walking, their minds already on the secrets Erina had pulled from Zyriel, a quiet heaviness hanging between them.