Chapter-24 Tasting Glamour

The training hall had emptied, leaving Frederique and the captain alone in the cold, echoing space.

Her body ached from the repetitive drills, every muscle sore from the constant strain of maintaining House of Mirrors. Sweat dampened her hairline, but it wasn't the physical exhaustion gnawing at her now... it was the gnawing void within.

The hunger.

It burned deeper with each illusion she'd conjured, each time she'd split herself, even when the copies flickered out. The more she used her magic, the more it clawed at her insides, hollow and relentless.

The captain watched her carefully, his pale Nocker features unreadable behind the permanent scowl. Strange tools dangled from his belt... small orbs, rods, and vials pulsing with faint colors, each radiating quiet magic. He finally broke the silence, speaking as if reading her thoughts.

"You're feeling it, aren't you? The drain."

Frederique's jaw tightened, but she nodded.

"It's called Glamour," he continued. "The fuel of our kind. The spark. The more you use your Art, the faster it burns. And if you run out..."

His expression darkened, the scowl deepening into something sterner.

"You'll lose control. Starve. Or worse."

The hunger coiled tighter. Frederique could feel Frideria's presence, restless, pacing inside her mind, echoing that same desperation.

"So what am I supposed to do? Just...starve?"

The captain snorted, but not unkindly.

"You're new. Barely a week since your Change. Even we don't expect you to figure it all out instantly."

He reached into his coat, producing a small black pouch. From it, he withdrew a single coin and flicked it toward her.

Frederique caught it with a reflexive snap of her hand. The coin felt...oddly warm. Heavy, but not from weight. Power.

One side was stamped with a radiant sun, every line delicate and precise, golden rays curling outwards. The other bore a crescent moon, silver and elegant, wreathed in shadows.

"What is this?"

"A recruitment pay," he said with a dry smirk.

"A Fey coin. Half Day, half Night. Our world doesn't deal in human money. Here, Glamour matters more than gold."

" This little thing?"

He tapped the coin in her hand and give her a smaller pouch with five coins inside.

"Spend it wisely, and it can buy...almost anything. A feast. A weapon. Even a soul. With enough of these, you could pay someone to kill a god."

Frederique's stomach twisted. The idea made her uncomfortable, but the raw, gnawing need inside her twisted harder.

The captain's gaze softened... just a little.

"You're a Redcap. You shouldn't need this often, not once you're settled. Your kind is...efficient. But you're still figuring things out. So take it. Use it. And..."

He turned toward the door.

"Lira."

The cat-like Pooka poked her head in, ears perked, golden eyes bright with curiosity.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Take her to the Market. Help her settle her hunger properly."

Lira blinked, then grinned wide.

"Oh! Of course. Come on, Red. You're gonna love this."

Frederique hesitated, then nodded, clutching the coin tighter as she followed Lira out.

They walked through narrow corridors until the stone shifted beneath Frederique's feet. The damp chill of the training hall gave way to something...older. Warmer. The walls became roots, twisted and dark, pulsing faintly with life as if the entire space was breathing.

The deeper they went, the louder the sounds became... murmured conversations, the soft strains of music, the clinking of glass. The air shifted, heavy with spice, sugar, and something rawer... emotion.

They emerged into a vast cavern, but it felt nothing like the darkness she'd expected.

Soft, golden lanterns hung suspended in midair, casting a warm glow over a bustling market square. Fey of all kinds milled through the space: tall, willowy Sidhe draped in shimmering silks, hunched figures with gnarled horns, and even tiny winged sprites darting between stalls like fireflies.

But it was the stalls themselves that caught Frederique's attention.

Glass jars filled with liquid in impossible hues: swirling violet, molten gold, and rich crimson. Plates of food that shimmered faintly, glowing softly as if holding light within.

Frederique felt her stomach twist, the hunger gnawing louder as the scents wafted over her... smoke, honey, sharp citrus...and something sweeter.

"Welcome to the Glamour Market," Lira purred, gesturing wide with both hands.

"Everything you see here? It's not just food. It's emotion. Bottled. Cooked. Distilled. The best way to refill your energy without...you know, hunting."

Frederique frowned. "Hunting?"

Lira tilted her head, waving her tail. "You do know how we feed, right? It's not just...food food."

Frideria shook her head, shame rising unbidden.

Lira's playful grin softened.

"It's okay. You're still learning."

She plucked a delicate bottle from a nearby stall, swirling with golden liquid.

"This? Pure joy. Aged perfectly. Want a taste?"

Frederique hesitated, then nodded.

Lira uncorked the bottle and offered it carefully.

The scent hit first... bright, like sunlight after rain, sharp and tingling.

Frederique sipped.

Warmth exploded across her tongue. Not just sweetness... it was happiness, vivid and full. A rush of laughter, the feeling of winning, of hugs and sunshine and good days. She staggered slightly, blinking hard as the hunger inside her eased, just for a moment.

Lira chuckled.

"Yeah. Strong, huh?"

Frederique exhaled shakily.

"That...wasn't just a taste."

"Exactly. Glamour's pure emotion. Eating it fills us back up. But be careful... it doesn't last long, and the stronger the feeling, the faster it burns out."

Frederique nodded slowly.

The next stall displayed thin slices of meat glowing faintly blue.

"And that?" she asked.

"Regret," Lira said simply. "Not bad if you're into the whole bitter aftertaste thing."

Frederique's gaze drifted to another dish... deep red steaks pulsing with soft, rhythmic light.

She didn't need to ask.

"Anger," Lira whispered. "Savory, sharp, burns hot but fades fast. If you're really daring..."

She gestured toward a drink, swirling dark purple, almost black, in a tall glass.

"Despair. Cold, bitter, but...powerful. If you can stomach it."

Frederique's grip on the pouch tightened.

Lira noticed.

"Use it. The captain gave it to you for this exact reason. You need to learn control. And you can't fight on an empty stomach, Red."

Frederique nodded, stepping toward the nearest vendor. She handed a coin over, and in return, was offered a tall glass filled with shimmering crimson... fear, mixed with a splash of adrenaline.

The first sip sent a pulse of raw power through her veins. The hunger, for now, was silent.

She could fight again.

And for the first time since her Change, she felt...stronger.

Ready.